Appatha Review: Urvashi Is Soulful In This Bland Slice-Of-Life Drama 

Director: Priyadarshan

Writers: John Britto, Hardik Gajjar, Deepthi Govindarajan, Priyadarshan

Cast: Urvashi, Amit Bhargav, Sidharth Babu, Halam

Streaming on: Jio Cinema

When we watch a certain film, we usually expect high moments based on the film’s genre like the eerie buildups in a horror movie or the mass stunt sequences in an action entertainer. In terms of feel-good films, we expect an emotional heft. It might be the protagonist’s strong conflict, a self-realisation arc, relationship troubles, etc. Priyadarshan’s Appatha has some of such elements. 

The first one is the beautiful portrayal of an estranged relationship between Kannamma (Urvashia) and her son Paavada Saamy (aka Sam, played by Amit Bhargav). While Kannamma is an entrepreneur who sells pickles in her village, Sam is working at Jio company in Chennai. The distance between the two places isn’t as much as the emotional gap that separates the duo. Sam never liked his childhood, his mother, or the pickles she made; so he moved far away, as much as he can. Whenever Kannamma reminisces about their time together, even all that she can remember is how her son disliked everything. She moves to Chennai upon her son’s request but soon realises that all he wants from her is to look after his dog when he is out on a vacation with his wife and kid. But the kind of shock you feel at this moment is reduced to a mere expression on Uravshi’s face, and her worry is restricted to being stuck with the fluffy animal, as she has been scared of dogs all her life. The skillfully built arc about the mother-son relationship fades away and comes back to do only an underwhelming cameo towards the film’s climax. 

When she is left alone with the dog, we get some rib-tickling sequences as they chase each other. Flower vases break, boiling milk spills, tables crack and she even hangs in the air, holding the fan for support. The way she argues with the dog lends to some fine moments of laughter. But there is a reason Kannamma is fondly called Appatha (grandmother) by several people. A kid at heart and the most knowledgeable person in the village, she is wise and kind towards everyone and cares for even strangers like any elder in their family would. For instance, when a woman, a victim of domestic abuse comes in search of a job, Kannamma not only gives her some cash but also ensures her husband is chastised by the cops. So it is very hard to buy that a person like her would entirely forget or ignore the fact that the dog hasn’t eaten anything for two-three days — and is barking, chasing, and chewing the sofa in hunger — not even when the dog licks the spilled milk on the floor. 

Likewise, while even the other elements — Appatha reconciling the relationship with the dog, interacting with new neighbours and even going on to win everyone’s heart with her pickle business — manage to create a heartening ride, the events feel forced. The setting is a gated community in Chennai, but oftentimes, you don’t get that vibe; like the Diwali celebration song sequence which feels like a north-Indian wedding ceremony. In the scene about domestic abuse, she tells cops that women in our society might even tolerate physical abuse but will never file a complaint against their husbands. For someone who is so independent and preaches about placing oneself ahead of everyone else, it is disappointing to see her play the same sacrificing mother who gives away everything, including her own happiness for her child, who in turn, is ashamed to even call her his mother. We’ve started talking a lot about how a wife or a daughter should prioritise herself and her dreams, but have we not yet reached the space where we can do away with the “whatever he did, I am his mother” sentiment so that even a mother need not be selfless and can take her own stance for her own life, especially when disrespected and ignored?

Apart from a wonderful Urvashi, who even jumps, performs some stunts and rolls on the floor during the dog chase, only the wordplay and wacky ideas in the dialogue do the heavy lifting. So when the film ends, you don’t have the sweet-knowing-satisfactory smile playing on your lips that such films often leave you with. While explaining how her pickle has a distinctive taste, Appatha says she has a special mix of spices and a slightly different procedure that renders the otherwise generic recipe a unique touch. Probably that’s what the film lacks.