Birthmark Movie Review: Misses the mark by a mile

Birthmark is built on the backbones of a tried and tested thriller formula. A happy couple moves into an isolated place (often in the woods), and the caretaker of said place acts strange, everything seems perfectly normal but the couple can feel a sense of threat looming in the peripheries. One of them—most often the man—starts dealing with their repressed psychological issues, and towards the end, you just wish whoever the film wants you to care about, makes it out alive. Perfected in Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining, this skeletal framework is also used in films like Knock At the Cabin and Get Out. While Birthmark has its own authentic spin on this formula, it fails to leverage any of its strengths and even disengages us with its tonally confused filmmaking.

Director: Vikram Shreedharan

Cast: Shabeer Kallarakkal, Mirnaa, Deepthie Orintelu

Birthmark follows a couple, Daniel (Shabeer Kallarakkal) and Jennifer (Mirnaa), going through pregnancy. They move to a natural birthing centre in the hills where Daniel, an army soldier with severe PTSD symptoms, gets into constant fights with a mute caretaker. Daniel starts behaving strangely and Jennifer is worried for her unborn children. We have every ingredient for a gripping thriller: The eerie setting, the absence of any other residents, the cult-like practices of the birthing centre, and Daniel’s deteriorating psychological condition. However, the chaotic rhythm, odd directorial choices, overpowering soundtrack, and a weak screenplay, make sure that we don’t enjoy the thrills inherent in the premise.

One of the first things that actively kills our immersion into the film is its consistent use of the ‘white void room’ trope (except here it is a black room), where either past events or the psychological state of the characters are enacted with said characters in a void-like place with no walls. This avant-garde approach is laudable for trying to push the envelope in a conventional thriller. However, it ends up being a debilitating dampener to the story’s momentum. Any tension that builds up is immediately nullified by the sheer artificiality of these black room sequences. It also does not help that we feel neither connected to the central characters nor invested in their plight. Despite these shortcomings, Shabeer and Mirnaa try their best to do justice to their characters but their efforts go in vain. Vishal Chandrasekhar’s soundtrack is overpowering to the extent that we get new music for every head-turn and change in the emotions of the characters. At times, these tracks do work to serve the purpose—like in the place where the birthing centre workers perform their strange rituals—but through the soundtrack, we are over-fed directions on how to feel, to an extent where it seems like the composer is anxious to explain the film more than the director himself. 

Except for Daniel and Jennifer, almost all the supporting characters seem severely under-developed. While this could work to build mystery in a conventional thriller, due to the lack of tension in Birthmark, we only end up confused. Why did the head of the birthing centre talk like a mysterious soothsayer? Why did Mirnaa’s character have to be a transphobe? What was the point of all the religious commentary? Why did the caretaker have to be mute if it did not affect the story in any meaningful way? If you look long enough, all these points could be explained away but these questions do not come off as interesting puzzles for us to ponder over. 

Save for the disappointing pay-off in the end, Birthmark, in its own way, holds our attention. The above-mentioned shortcomings grate our patience only because we want the fairly engaging premise to be fleshed out well. We see what Birthmark is aiming for but we can also see, perhaps well before the director wants us to, that it misses its mark by more than a mile.