This is a monthly series where we highlight performances from the film and streaming universe that caught our eye. Since Film Companion watches widely, we decided to curate this list to foreground exceptional work, even if these actors did not have the proverbial spotlight on them.
Streaming Platform: Netflix
A double role — a pair of twins as police officers — that requires you to chart two ends of the moral spectrum is a difficult proposition for any actor to shoulder. They have the same build, the mustache isn’t too strikingly different. The only way to distinguish them is by giving them a different aura, a personality whose perfume can be felt before words are even spoken. To complicate this moral bleakness by making the evil twin endearing in parts — even possibly redemptive — is another weight. Joju George does a fine job of establishing one as evil one as, well, subdued, but he also leaves space in his performance for sweetness, coyness, charm, and guilt. In the climactic moment when the “truth” that has haunted the story is finally revealed, all the pain, all the anger, all the guilt, is stored, brimming from the eyes only.
Streaming Platform: Zee5
Zee 5’s marquee show attempts to give the Game of Thrones treatment to India's Mughal era and there’s much in there that should make your brow furrow (is smoky-eye make-up really going to convince us Rahul Bose is an Afghan? Why does Murad just roar incoherently instead of saying dialogues?). However, despite its missteps, for at least half of its 10-episode run, Taj: Divided By Blood is surprisingly entertaining, thanks in large part to its cast, led by the living legend Naseeruddin Shah, who plays the ageing emperor Akbar. Shah’s performance shows a man who is insistent upon holding on to power as it slips out of his clutches. Unsurprisingly, he elevates the writing and brings to life an Akbar who is very different from the harrumphing patriarch whom we know from Mughal-e-Azam.
Theatrical release
It took an unlikely scene from Thuramukham to realize just how long it has taken the industry to finally give Poornima a role she deserves. As the ‘Umma’ watches her son (played by Nivin Pauly) transform entirely into the local gunda, it recalls a similar scene from the actress’ Randam Bhavam from two decades ago in which her character realized helplessly that her boyfriend (Suresh Gopi) is not who she thought he was. Thuramukham presents her with many such instances where she could evolve into the character of a helpless wife and mother defeated by the time she lives in. Earlier, when her husband leaves without saying anything, we’re able to understand he’s never going to come back just by the way Poornima is able to stop herself from imploding. The heartbreak is far more severe when she finds out about the death of her most loving son. She’s not able to hold herself back anymore and the glimmer of hope that existed in the form of her children, exists no longer.
Theatrical release
There is something about screen presence that can neither be taught or learnt. Unfair, like most things, some actors have it and others don’t. Shahana Goswami is that presence which keeps Zwigato afloat. Her eyes, steely and wide, her accent, breezy and unstudied, her gait, paced and aware. Her eyes dilating further when she is told that she will have to enter the men’s washrooms to clean it is both comical and tragic. Goswami has that electric presence that pulls at your gaze. When she is on screen, your eyes unconsciously dart towards her, even if all she is performing is silence.
Theatrical release
Soori is magnetic as Kumaresan, a low-ranking police driver who places honour, kindness, and gentleness above everything else. Assigned to the contentious area in the forested mountains, he asks, “Aren’t we here to serve and help the people?” He refuses to suppress his ideals even while keeping his head down. It is easy for such a wide-eyed performance to feel cloying, for its goodness to feel saccharine, and its innocence to feel childishly naive. Yet, Soori is able to embody this sketch of a character with so much longing, so much pain that he is able to alchemize into passion, so much passion that he is able to alchemize into heroism. It is love, and fighting for it that makes him jump terraces in the climactic battle. To be able to convincingly chart this steep arc — from rabbit to roar — is an acting feat.