Yathrayude Andhyam
As the title suggests Yathrayude Andhyam is a journey, by road and through one’s pensive reflections. It’s a journey that quietly comes undone through the voice notes of writer VKV (Murali). KG George co-wrote and directed this telefilm for DD in 1989 and although like his previous works, the film dwells on human relationships and its myriad complexities, it's perhaps his most wordy work to date. And it has a superficiality that’s alien to a KG George landscape. He employs a fractured narrative style and the frames bathed in sepia, help with mood-building.
A telegram from his longtime buddy Abraham prompts him to set out on a road journey. En route, VKV (a subdued Murali) slips into his interfaces with Abraham, helping us draw a picture of an unusually strong friendship. Having said that, VKV’s verbose voiceovers, at times dilute the profundity of the narrative, and come across as far too dispassionate. We wish more silences filled up the blanks. After a point, we feel disengaged.
For VKV, Abraham (MG Soman) is more of a mentor than a friend. It was VKV’s writings that built a bond between them. The meeting happened much later. Interestingly, Abraham is a cloistered writer, who is too shy to have his works published. He is also older and perceptive about life’s realities and never hesitates in dispensing unsolicited advice to the junior. When VKV pays an impromptu visit spotting a shabby beard, Abraham takes one look at him and pronounces that he is unhappy with his marriage.
Abraham is a widower who is still mourning his wife. And though he appears to be self-sufficient, we know that he is lonely. His dialogues are somewhat preachy, and those are areas that heighten the superficiality in the narrative. Especially the ones that talk about women, how men perceive them, and marriage. Often they come across as lines from motivational manuals.
VKV isn’t the archetypal self-absorbed writer. Sure, he does drift into moments when his creativity appears parched. The solution is often provided by his elderly friend, who without saying much seems to read VKV accurately. But more than his writings, the narrative is poised to explore the VKV-Abraham friendship. There are certain bonds that are inscrutable and that’s the closest one can describe their relationship.
Yet for all his worldliness, Abraham’s graph starts to collapse gradually when he has to face the death of a dear one. It was as if the man who had put a brave face to the world could no longer hold the fort. He falls asleep when VKV reads his manuscript and that’s a rare occurrence. When Abraham gets a telegram with the news of his son-in-law’s death, while the moment between VKV and Abraham is moving, the dramatic wails of the onlookers sully that poignancy.
Having said that if you leave aside the VKV-Abraham camaraderie, there aren’t many takeaways. Even the stretch in the bus that VKV travels when he encounters a bunch readying for marriage, only to have the father of the bride die on the way, is underwhelming. Or some of the characters he meets on the bus, the annoying NRI who nitpicks about India or the local politician. In the penultimate scene, when Abraham’s daughter tells him that her father did mention VKV visualizing his death as he sat on the bus, VKV is devastated. It suddenly felt like he was travelling all that way carrying the lifeless body of his dear friend. Towards the end, George reclaims his touch, with the rationality and restraint in which he depicts death. VKV’s grief is almost tangible at that moment.