Ashakal Aayiram Movie Review: Jayaram anchors an uneven film that plays it safe

Ashakal Aayiram Movie Review:

As its title, Ashakal Aayiram (A Thousand Dreams) suggests, the film tells the story of two dreamers — a father and his son. While the youngster is brimming with hope and ambition, the worn-out father has long buried his dreams to grapple with the harsh realities of everyday life. On one hand, we see the son nurturing fantasies of becoming a film star and owning a posh caravan. Cut to the next scene, the father doesn’t even have enough money to buy a red velvet cake for his wife’s birthday, settling instead for an ordinary one. That, he believes, is the sensible choice. He even spells out his philosophy at one point: “After a point in life, you don’t live for dreams. You live simply to exist.” But the son is in no mood to buy it. He doesn't want to be like his father. Interestingly, the father also wishes the same, but fails to communicate it.

The generational clash becomes more intriguing because it is played by a real-life father-son duo, lending the dynamics an added layer of authenticity. However, the film’s reluctance to break new ground or push beyond the familiar ultimately confines it to the realm of an ordinary family drama.

Director: G Prajith
Cast: Jayaram, Kalidas Jayaram, Sharaf U Dheen, Asha Sharath
Rating: 2.5/5

Ashakal Aayiram initially treads territory familiar to Oru Vadakkan Selfie, also directed by G Prajith. There’s the aspiring actor protagonist, his perpetually grumpy equation with his father, a doting mother, and a largely irrelevant sister. But unlike Umesh (Nivin Pauly), for whom cinema was a shortcut to quick fame, Kalidas’s Ajeesh is portrayed as someone deeply passionate about acting, or at least, that’s what we are repeatedly told. This becomes one of the film’s major problems. Ajeesh’s acting dreams are treated largely as comic fodder. Instead of showing us his rejections and emotional setbacks, the film focuses on his laughable audition tapes and social media reels. So when the narrative suddenly turns serious and expects us to root for his passion, the shift feels unearned. Kalidas, too, struggles to convince us of Ajeesh’s supposed brilliance, barring perhaps the climax monologue.

In contrast, Jayaram’s character is consistently well-written, with the veteran actor bringing considerable gravitas to the role. When the medical representative, who has been toiling for 25 years, says helplessly, “Nadannu nadannu maduthu, Ashe” (I’m tired of walking, Asha), you can feel the exhaustion seep through. A key incident during a film shoot in his neighbourhood triggers a sudden transformation in him. While the shift initially feels too abrupt to digest, the writing later offers enough justification for his actions. Jayaram’s performance remains compelling, especially in intense moments, which also inadvertently expose his son’s weaker presence.

While the characters are positioned as equals in conflict, there is no contest when it comes to the performance front. Jayaram scores effortlessly in both lighter and emotionally charged scenes. Even in a dance sequence staged like a face-off, it is his charm that draws us in more than Kalidas’s youthful energy.

Apart from the central duo, Ashakal Aayiram features Sharaf U Dheen in an important role as actor Sumit. The character is as stereotypical as they come — a nepo film star driven by ego and manipulation — but Sharaf makes it engaging by striking a balance between playful charm and sharp villainy. The blame lies with Aravind Rajendran and Jude Anthany Joseph’s writing, which remains extremely predictable, following familiar beats and frequently slipping into overt melodrama.

Despite being present throughout the film, Asha Sharath’s character is largely relegated to the sidelines, either busy pacifying the conflict between the father and son or making pickles for her neighbours. The writing attempts to give her a token heroic moment through a punch dialogue towards the end, but the film might have benefited more from exploring her financial independence, which it teases briefly.

Ashakal Aayiram leans heavily on nostalgia as it is packed with references and callbacks to Jayaram’s older films and his previous collaborations with Kalidas. While some of these moments are genuinely fun, others, such as the reuse of ‘Chellakkatte’ in the climax, feel like desperate attempts to evoke emotion, betraying a lack of confidence in the material at hand. The film works best when it stays light and leans into the easy chemistry between Jayaram and Kalidas. However, once it attempts emotional depth, it slips into a predictable zone, offering a reconciliation and coming-of-age journey that feels overly familiar and emotionally distant. Harmless, still.