Spoilers Ahead:
Chidambaram's Balan: The Boy has a fascinating angle about a mother who protects her son from male subjugation. At one point, the mother tells the elderly woman under her care a story about an abusive husband, whom she labels a Rakshas. In the story, the wife kills the 'Rakshas' because of his relentless abuse and her pregnancy and to keep him from enslaving his child in the future. While the film never confirms whether the fable is a metaphor, Chidambaram's writing suggests that it represents the mother's actual story. Likely, the woman had to kill her husband out of sheer helplessness, and that is probably why she spent time in jail with her son. This upbringing helps explain why he plays along with his mother and her carefully constructed world, involving changing identities. Notice how, at each crucial phase of the story, he asks his mother what his new name and identity are in the fictional world she constructs for their survival from a hostile society.
Eventually, as the mother fears, her son becomes the slave of a thief (played by Tovino Thomas). Circumstances pull the mother away, allowing the thief to exploit the boy through child labour and make him complicit in his crimes. A moment that stands out is one where Tovino's character delivers a wicked smile after refusing to let go of the boy to his employer. The thief retains the boy because he knows that he can make use of the latter's innocence for criminal gains.
This subconscious enslavement ties up well with the moral of the mother and her Rakshas story. Her traumatic past explains her reluctance to settle down with an elderly hotel owner who offers her work in exchange for food and shelter. As in the story she narrates to the old woman, the mother does not want to take the risk of her son becoming the hotel owner’s slave, even though he appears harmless and unsuspicious. This shows why she runs away from the hotel owner's residence without informing him. This is what being part of an evil community does to you: it makes you suspect even the noble and the feeble.
The film inflicts a penalty on the mother for her deceits by keeping her from being able to see her son for years. It separates a cruel police officer (John Paul Lal) from his lover for his vengeful acts against others in his life. It also punishes the thief who acts as the boy's father figure for years for child labour and exploitation. Even the elderly woman severs ties with her son for years for his decision to work in the UK, the same nation that killed her husband during India's freedom struggle. This retribution cuts both ways, echoing the mutual suffering of the mother and her boy. The old woman's long-time alienation itself is a tragic byproduct of her lingering anti-colonial grief. The fact that she commits suicide is her self-penalty and penance for alienating her family, including her son. The woman's objection to her son working in the UK, as it represents the empire that destroyed her past, mirrors the mother’s refusal to let the boy serve any master. And what happens to both women? In a way, they become inhabitants of a prison of their own making. Both choose extreme alienation and self-punishment over capitulation to an authority figure. The cosmic justice in the film is ruthlessly equitable.
The 'brothel madam' pays the ultimate price when she attempts to lure the mother into her trade. Even a female police officer pays a heavy price for being in love with the cruel cop, knowing his dark side. Remember when she tells a fellow cop that she would not leave the cruel cop, because he has been treating her well, despite his mistreatment of others? A suspension from the job is her inevitable upshot for turning a blind eye to injustice.
Chidambaram creates a moral universe where no action—no matter how justifiable it may be by trauma, grief, or any other factor—escapes consequences. Only, some receive a more severe form of punishment than others. Suffice to say, Balan The Boy is as much a tender mother-son saga as it is an uncompromising study of karma, exploitation, and poetic justice. Perhaps the only disputable element of the film is the major misdirection it uses to tie up the central mystery involving the mother and the boy. It is slightly questionable how this deception slips beyond law enforcement. Then again, if you suspend your disbelief, even the red herring lands gracefully in Jithu Madhavan's screenplay.
