Siren Review: This Jayam Ravi-Thriller Is Intriguing In Parts, Contrived As A Whole

Cast: Jayam Ravi, Keerthy Suresh, Anupama Parameswaran

Written and directed by: Antony Bhagyaraj

Runtime: 155 minutes

Available in: Theatres

It’s not always right to walk into the theatre expecting a certain kind of film. However, it's naturally form an idea going by film’s trailer. The trailer of Siren, starring Jayam Ravi and Keerthy Suresh, hints at a probable revenge drama — a do-good ambulance driver, Thilakan (aka Thilakavarman), is wronged. When he is out on parole years later, several murders happen and the police suspect him. In all honesty, the film unfolds in a very predictable manner. But it is the arc of Keerthy Suresh’s Nandhini — an honest police officer who is suspended on the grounds of custodial violence — that gives the story an interesting spin.

We are told that both Nandhini and Thilakan are blamed for murders that they didn’t commit. While there is this similar pattern of emotional turmoil that they are put through, they both are up against each other in a different murder case. It’s such an intriguing idea to explore their psyches and create a thrilling cat-and-mouse chase, especially when it is a rare sight to see a leading woman don a cop uniform and go against the hero. Likewise, the father-daughter angle where Thilakan’s daughter Malar grows up hating him makes you want to root for them to get back together. The sad part though is the film builds up both these angles with enough commitment to provide support for Thilakan’s journey and then leaves them hanging mid-air.

Siren gets a lot of things right. Thilakan is out on parole after several years and the first time he visits his house, the camera becomes his eye and captures the house in a circular motion, as images of his past — the happy life with his wife (Anupama Parameswaran) and daughter — are interspersed. You are not told why he was arrested and what kind of person he was earlier. But this edit alone gets you invested in his personal life. So when his daughter doesn’t understand him, you immediately wish that she gets to know him better before his parole time ends. To neutralise the emotional heaviness the film feeds us early on, we are introduced to Yogi Babu’s Velankanni, the shadow police who is supposed to stay with Thilakan 24*7 during his parole. And Yogi Babu’s antics, witty one-liners and counters so seamlessly blend with the rest of the story that irrespective of how serious or boring the situation is, his jokes land. It is also one of the better aspects of the film. 

Amidst these, two politicians are murdered. While Nandhini, who is back from the suspension, takes charge, her superior (Samuthirakani) isn’t very pleased. Although there are several reasons why her superior is always ready to put her down, interestingly, these are revealed at different points in the film. One reason is that Samuthirakani and the two politicians belong to the same caste. So when Nandhini goes against the politicians, she automatically earns the hatred of her superior as well. The more surprising part that works is initially the politicians tell Samuthirakani “nee namma aalu, paathu pannu” (“you are our people”, which is a way one refers to people from their own caste) and you move past it. However, you later understand that this one-liner connects to a bigger caste-related issue that comes much later in the film. The way debutant Anthony Bhagyaraj has written this sequence too is very convincing. There are also random sequences like the missing of a young boy who does small-time thievery or a lost watch that goes on to become important threads in the investigation.

However, the biggest problem with Siren is that all these interesting clues, angles and complicated relationship dynamics remain just that. It’s not that the film doesn’t tie them all together but when they are all put together, the sum of it doesn’t look as interesting as the parts. One reason is that the film doesn’t delve deep into any of these angles leaving you desiring to know more about the other characters like Nandini or Malar besides just Thilakan. Another major reason is how contrived the writing is. Take, for instance, the sequence where Thilakan is driving his ambulance to save an important character’s life. He is surrounded by the villain’s two-wheelers and lorries that block his way. The fact that the chase happens for a long distance but there is no other vehicle in sight is itself a result of convenient writing. Yet the makers overdo the whole chase; when the bad guys set the ambulance on fire, Thilakan, out of nowhere, finds and hits huge water cans on the road. The film also gives away all the clues but also wants to remain mysterious and thrilling, and this becomes its undoing because the film takes itself seriously but you aren’t scared or curious to know what happens next.

The background score that’s omnipresent in Siren does so much more than required that you sometimes can’t even hear the dialogue. In addition, the film spoon-feeds the clues and emotions. Every time there is a reveal or an emotional payoff, the film never forgets to cut back to remind us of a scene that we have already witnessed, in a way forcing us to feel the connection. In between being a thrilling story of an accused on parole who is blamed for a couple of other murders and a melodramatic tale of how a father and daughter reunite, the convenient writing stops the film from becoming a fulfilling journey of neither of these aspects.