Vanka and Kuttappayi lived centuries apart. But they share an upsetting fate, so real and sharply portrayed that you can almost feel the wetness of their tears. ‘Ottal’, Jayaraj’s adaptation of Chekhov’s celebrated short-story, is a highly watchable film for more reasons than one. A heartbreakingly beautiful tale of childhood and innocence, it pieces together the small-but-kaleidoscopic world of a kid and his grandfather.
The film opens as an 8-year-old furtively writes a letter to his grandfather. The entire film is one long flashback woven around a 70-year-old duck farmer and his grandson Kuttappayi. The dark-and-sturdy grandfather with his drooping white moustache has no name, he is simply ‘Vallyappachayi’ or ‘Tharavu Mappila’. The film follows them as the duo herd ducks through the endless waterways of Kuttanad. As the elderly caretaker falls ill, the child is carted off to Sivakasi and a life of exploitation and cruelty.
Jayaraj cleverly knits into his narrative motifs that are integral and in sync with the theme. There are flocks of ducks and egrets filling the screen, winged visitors from faraway lands and hanging nests of of weaver birds. Another visual that keeps repeating is that of ottal, the indigenous fish trap and the people engaged in the wary exercise. The visuals add to the poignancy of the storyline as Kuttapayi goes through stages of orphanhood, freedom and entrapment.
The director also wrings out remarkable performances from its lead cast - Kumarakom Madhavan and Master Akshanth. Except a few, negligible hitches, Kuttappayai and Vallyappachayi give no clue that they are first-timers. The grandfather’s forlorn look after seeing off his grandson and Kuttappayi’s wide-eyed jubilance as he splatters water on the old man’s face - the film has many moments that stay in your mind. The old, solitary angler, the conniving ‘mesthiri’, the rich kid Kuttappayi befriends, and even the nameless dog - they all add to the sense of loss and doom.
‘Ottal’ also has a strong and unapologetic environmental perspective. It’s little hero is part of an organic glory, green and resplendent. He doesn’t want a big Christmas star because he owns a whole constellation; he doesn’t yearn to be part of an affluent family because no wealth adds up to the unending horizon that shelters him. The lyrics and music composed by Kavalam Naryana Panicker and BGM by Sreevalsan J Menon are apt and evocative. But ‘Ottal’ is more of a film that proves M J Radhakrishnan’s artistry in cinematic craft. His camera indulges in an act nurturing and nourishing each frame creating a landscape that’s both familiar and exotic. ‘Ottal’ is definitely a film you can’t give a miss.