Patriot, starring Mohanlal and Mammootty, is a classic example in how not to tell a story and market a film. To give credit where it is due, Mahesh Narayanan does not lack ambition, and the core concept in his multistarrer is genuinely fascinating. It follows a scientific advisor (Mammootty) of the defence department who takes on a corporation after its government-commissioned social census software contributes to multiple deaths. Patriot presents an alternative version of the status quo that feels eerily real. It shows how one can weaponise modern technology for political control and personal vendetta. The film's idea of digital surveillance taps into anxieties about state-sponsored experiments for privacy invasions that mirror the reality. It leans into the kind of surveillance scandals that have often dogged headlines about high-level politics in India. However, squandering these noble intentions is a narrative style that prioritises exposition over cinematic momentum.
Right from its marketing to the actual film, Patriot treats its premise as some revolutionary or unprecedented concept in cinema. It devotes an entire first half towards showing exactly how the spyware program works and affects its victims, telling the story from multiple points of view. Before the release, key members of the film, especially Mammootty, have emphasised the importance of the story for each and every person in the country. The film forgets that it is ultimately a piece of entertainment and rather treats itself as a documentary or a grim lecture on technophobia. After all, this is a time when we have films about Tom Cruise fighting a sentient AI and algorithms. Even a Stanley Kubrick film (2001: A Space Odyssey) from about 60 years ago presents a compelling battle between a sentient computer and an astronaut. In comparison, the story of Patriot, about one man against an evil corporation, feels rather traditional. The issue is not the familiarity of the tropes but rather the apparent lack of self-awareness.
The pivot in the second half towards retribution lays bare the friction between its high concepts and reliance on conventional tropes. You see its novelty and nobility starting to wear off when the film brings Mohanlal and Mammootty together onscreen. This is where the folly of the marketing efforts behind the film becomes quite evident. For example, you do not want to know that a major fight scene is around the corner when Mammootty, Mohanlal and Kunchacko Boban get into a particular car. By releasing a poster hinting at it before the release, the makers of the film have not done themselves any favour. It sucks out whatever little excitement the film could have generated from these ‘fan-service’ moments. Further, such sequences go against the makers’ claim about Patriot being a plot-driven story. Anyone with some familiarity in mass masala cinema in the South can tell that these are attempts to cater to the two big stars at the centre of the story. The same applies to the presence of heavyweights in the narrative, such as Nayanthara. Why are they even part of the project? Of course, the plot does drive the story, but this is also part of what makes it heavy-handed. The rigidity in the narrative makes the performances mechanical, leaving little room for emotional resonance. Take Fahadh Faasil, for example. It adds salt to the wounds when he puts on a bad impression of an evil Fahadh Faasil character.
It feels like Mahesh has not fully understood the assignment. Let us compare Patriot with L2: Empuraan, the blockbuster from last year. The multistarrer from Prithviraj Sukumaran may be a bloated affair, but at no point does the film give us the impression that it suffers from an identity crisis. Prithviraj clearly markets it for the big star, Mohanlal, and offers some thrilling hero elevation moments in the film, notwithstanding its screenplay flaws. Ultimately, Patriot is a film sabotaged by its own messaging—a manifesto for bad marketing.