Tourist Family Movie Review: A soulful tale of survival and solidarity
Tourist Family(3.5 / 5)
Over the years, Sasikumar’s filmography has been carefully crafted to evoke a singular thought at the mere mention of his name. He stands as a beacon of restored faith in humanity; that is, once you set aside the image of his signature hysterical laugh. With his latest film Tourist Family, Sasikumar embodies his familiar persona as a symbol of hope, leading a story that may be straightforward on paper but delivers a journey that takes you through the whole nine yards of emotions.
Cast: Sasikumar, Simran, Mithun Jai Sankar, Kamalesh, MS Bhaskar, Sreeja Ravi, Elango Kumaravel, Bhagavathy Perumal, Ramesh Thilak
Director: Abishan Jeevinth
In Tourist Family, Das (Sasikumar), Vasanthi (Simran), and their sons Nidhu (Mithun Jai Sankar) and Mulli (Kamalesh) flee the economic crisis in Sri Lanka and migrate to Rameswaram by sea. Quietly resettling in a Chennai colony, they try to live under the radar until unforeseen circumstances expose their identity. What follows is a poignant exploration of their uncertain fate as refugees.
More than just a film, Tourist Family unfolds as a character study. Set largely within a colony bustling with residents of varied temperaments and traits, the film offers a vivid cross-section of humanity, bound together by one underlying thread: a quiet benevolence nestled within flesh and blood. Among them, Mulli, the youngest in the family, emerges as one of the most well-written characters in recent memory. His notoriety, sharp observation skills, compulsive lying, and innate kindness are all effortlessly etched out, remarkably, in a single scene even before the title card appears. Every character brings out a distinct personality in Tourist Family. Nidhu’s rightful ire, Vasanthi’s naive liveliness, Richard’s (MS Bhaskar) strict-to-a-fault nature, and Gunashekar’s (Elango Kumaravel) default distrustfulness are some of the contrasting characteristics that beautifully play out to form the diverse dynamics and situations that the film has to offer.
Undoubtedly, Sasikumar’s Dharmadas stands out as the force that holds all this heterogeneity together; a man so close to flawless, it borders on mythical. He’s the kind of person who, at a memorial for a recently deceased woman, is called a ‘God’ by another mourner. He’s so virtuous that even something as innocuous as throwing garbage into a dustbin almost spells his downfall. How can a ‘too-good-to-be-true’ man, who consistently puts everyone else’s needs before his own, actually exist? This is where Abishan Jeevinth’s brilliance shines, not just in writing such a character but in casting the right actor for it. Dharmadas is tailor-made for Sasikumar, whose screen persona has been carefully built around integrity and humility. But Abishan doesn’t stop at riding that image. He subtly introduces cracks: a moment of drunken recklessness, a confrontation born out of Nidhu’s justifiable resentment, reminding us that even the purest hearts carry burdens. This balance in writing, both in character and in logic, is what allows the audience to suspend disbelief—and yes, the film does ask a great deal of it. Take, for instance, an early scene where Mulli lies about his name. His uncle, played by Yogi Babu, reacts with surprise, prompting Simran’s Vasanthi to casually remark, “Sondha thangachi pasanga per kooda therla,” tying up what could’ve been a loose thread. It’s this kind of consistent detailing that carries the film through.
For a film so lightweight it practically floats in your hands, Tourist Family is surprisingly punctuated by abrupt tonal shifts. Usually, that would work against a film; the emotional tug-of-war often leaves audiences unanchored, unable to fully connect with what the film wants them to feel. But here, those jarring shifts are wielded smartly. Right after an intense father-son confrontation, brimming with monologues that tug at the heart, we get a completely unexpected and utterly hilarious dance routine from the three men of the family. It throws you off, yes, but in the best way. Similarly, just before a cleverly placed callback to Simran’s dancing nostalgia, there’s an understated romantic beat—one of the better-written scenes in recent times—that serves no grand purpose in the larger narrative yet leaves you with a gentle warmth. Tourist Family swings between grief and serendipity, pathos and harmless, mindless humour, and in doing so, Abishan and his cast manage to walk a tightrope with remarkable ease.
Those who step into movie theatres often come with the expectation of watching something that they do not experience in their day-to-day lives. That’s precisely why actors’ larger-than-life personas, their single-handed tackling of villains, and their inevitable triumph over evil is a genre that never gets old. But with Tourist Family, Abishan offers a different kind of rarity, not fantasy, but a seldom-seen-in-real-life experience: raw humanity and quiet brotherhood. And so, just like we leave superhero films wishing we had powers, we leave Tourist Family with a quieter wish, to carry a little more humanity within ourselves, to become the very kindness we keep hoping to find in others.