Aadujeevitham Movie Review: Straightforward survival saga anchored by a stunning Prithviraj

It has been over 15 years since writer Benyamin's words brought to the fore the unimaginable plight of Najeeb Mohammed, and through him, the plight of migrant labourers from Kerala seeking better fortunes in the Arab lands. The poignancy of the work and its underpinning emotional themes saw the work, Aadujeevitham, embraced by millions of readers, becoming one of Malayalam literature's all-time best-selling novels. When such a hugely popular and dense novel gets adapted to a cinematic format, the challenges ahead are multifold. However, director Blessy and team manage to surmount most of it with their unwavering determination and uncompromising vision... Yet, there are parts where the film leaves a lot to be desired.

Director: Blessy

Cast: Prithviraj Sukumaran, Amala Paul, Jimmy Jean-Louis, KR Gokul

Blessy's version of Aadujeevitham is a straightforward story of survival and resilience sans any philosophical layers. Considering the massive efforts and budget involved, it seems like a conscious decision to make the film palatable for a wider audience, who might have otherwise found it hard to sit through its almost three hour runtime. But it also means that there's not enough to ponder over, an exercise that otherwise helps leave a lasting impression on the viewer.

While it is unfair to compare a literary work and cinema where the possibilities and limitations are entirely different, the adaptation of something as popular as Aadujeevitham is still worth an examination. If Benyamin's novel is monologue-heavy, giving us a peek into Najeeb's internal turmoils and dilemmas, the struggles conveyed in the film are mostly external or physical. It is made possible by a stunning Prithviraj Sukumaran, who is ready to stretch himself to any limit to ensure we feel every inch of Najeeb's pain and agony. However, there are only scant moments where we see Najeeb reflecting on his thoughts or contemplating on how to survive this ordeal. He is mostly seen getting physically hurt, either by his master or the goats or the ferocious desert climate. It's also quite natural for anyone going through such a traumatic phase to have suicidal thoughts, but strangely, the film doesn't get a lot into such spaces.

Another layer from the novel that Blessy has simplified is Najeeb's equation with God. Irrespective of how devout a person is, one would invariably start questioning the existence of God when pushed to such a distressing state. In the novel, Najeeb, a strong believer, often has such thoughts about the purpose of Allah, but in the next moment he would comfort himself by accepting that everything is part of His design. There is a constant tussle in his mind about Allah's mercy and apathy. In the film, though, such a complex mental state is tried to communicate through a single instance where Najeeb expresses his angst at God. A helpless Najeeb lets out a wail looking up, but suddenly stops himself and turns angry. Prithviraj is brilliant, yet again.

The film begins with a shot of Najeeb and the goats drinking water from the same tank. It's such a powerful visual conveying the blurring lines between man and animal. After having lived among the goats for so long, the man is now half-goat himself. After the initial torment, Najeeb develops a strangely beautiful bond with the animals in the masara, especially with the goats. Early in the film, we see how Najeeb pleads with a goat not to kick her while milking and she responds with a tender glance. In another scene, we see the goats flocking around Najeeb as if to offer comfort after the Arab breaks his leg. But still one can't help but wish that the film had more such warm moments to underline the relationship between Najeeb and the goats. A couple of significant chapters from the novel depicting their bond have been skipped to focus more on the escape portions. This is probably why we don't feel the heartbreak when he bids adieu to the goats.

A major share of the film's latter half is devoted to the desert odyssey by Najeeb and his accomplices. This is where the survival part of the film actually begins and Blessy leaves no stone unturned to make it a visceral experience. Their miserable journey is made engaging by punctuating it with frequent obstacles—fatigue, thirst, snakes, sandstorm... Unlike the usual exquisite portrayals of deserts, this film intends to show them as a vast expanse of misery. However, there are still some jaw-dropping shots employed to register the topography. The dryness in these sequences are in stark contrast to the portions in Kerala where one almost feels the moisture. In a work of sheer genius, we can see the legendary Sreekar Prasad merging the two geographies using a beautiful transition shot. In fact, the film has an abundance of such moments where technical prowess is in full glory. Notably, the glorious picturisation of Omane song. Blessy, a master in portraying intimate moments, handles the Najeeb-Sainu segment delicately without ever coming across as voyeuristic. Though she appears only briefly, Amala Paul adds a lot of depth to the relationship with her graceful performance.

During the literature-to-cinema journey, the film also falls short in conveying the disgust that Najeeb feels during his initial days in the masara. Apart from a casual dialogue in the beginning about a stench coming from the Arab's dress, there is no further emphasis on the filthy environment where Najeeb is forced to live. But the makeup department covers it up to a large extent by convincingly presenting Najeeb's slow deterioration. From the gradual darkening of his skin tone to the unkempt hair and nails, close attention has been paid to make the transformation look authentic. Probably all of this wouldn't have been possible without the dedication of Prithviraj, who has literally put everything at his disposal for this film. He internalises the performance so deeply that there is hardly a dialogue or glance that evokes the Prithviraj we have seen before. A lot has been spoken about his transformation, but we realise its severity only when he takes his shirt off. Amidst all the horrifying images in the film, this one stands out.

Aadujeevitham is not an easy film to sit through. It would have been an even tougher experience had it not been for AR Rahman. His soul-stirring compositions act as a much-needed solace amidst Najeeb's gut wrenching struggles. Rahman is for Aadujeevitham what Sainu was for Najeeb. Hope.