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Churuli - When the absurd is also the funny

I instinctively get hyped up whenever Lijo Jose Pelissery drops an update on his upcoming projects. It was Ee Ma Yau through which I initially got pulled into the LJP universe, and I was blown away by the mojo the film carried throughout. When the announcement came that Lijo's next film was going to be a Sci-fi thriller, I got slightly sceptical. It wasn't the first time a talented Indian filmmaker was setting out to make a Sci-fi movie, and not many such made movies left a lasting impression. Despite that, I was curious to see how a director like LJP would handle a genre like Sci-fi and its associated intricacies. So, as soon as the film dropped on OTT, I watched it without giving any space to spoilers.

Unsurprisingly, my very first reaction as Churuli ended and the end credits started rolling was a "What the hell did I just watch?". Well, this wasn't the first time a film ended up invoking such a reaction in my mind. Whenever a movie puts me through this feeling, I almost instantly start searching for explanations in a bid to reason things out - an attempt to ensure the film does not break its own logical construct. However, with Churuli, I felt no such urge. Though the film was a labyrinth in all possible ways - breaking rational constructs casually as the plot progressed, the screenplay seemed to be well-structured and was thus somehow oddly satisfying.

When you happen to watch a film that deals with time loops, portals to different dimensions and extraterrestrial beings, it can get hard to follow what's happening. And when the screenplay doesn't come to your rescue, you end up easily getting disconnected. With Churuli, Lijo has tackled this problem thoughtfully through his subtle yet experimental approach to world-building. Filmmakers of today tend to take world-building to its most literal sense. They add voice-overs explaining the dynamics of the world the film is set in and spend a considerable chunk of time showing its various landscapes and inhabitants, irrespective of whether or not the plot requires them. In contrast, Churuli brings out the absurdity of its world through a combination of frantic visuals and a series of social interactions.

For instance, the portal which carries people from the rational world that we are familiar with to the world of absurdity is a broken log bridge. And how is the audience informed of the completion of this transformation? Through the sudden hostility the characters on the screen exhibit towards the two protagonists. As soon as transportation to the other world is complete, the two protagonists get constantly subjugated by its inhabitants who look down at them with the utmost contempt. As these two slowly forget the very reason they are in this world and start seeking acceptance from the natives, one of them undergoes a wild "trippy" transformation. From then on, we get to see and experience the surreality of the world from his perspective. Though this approach came across as over-the-top at some places, it was rejuvenating to see someone experiment instead of settling for conventional world-building.

Another thing that stood out for me in the film was how it utilised absurdity to drive the element of humour. There is a beautiful scene at the beginning where the protagonists take a jeep ride with a few people who happen to be the inhabitants of Churuli. During this brief ride, Anthony, one of the protagonists, shoots a wide range of closed questions hoping to build a conversation with the inhabitants of Churuli. Strangely enough, they respond with a vague, etiquette laughter to all of his questions. When we, the audience finally get suspicious of this behaviour and start wondering why they act in such a bizarre way, Anthony shoots them the same question. And to add to the already overwhelming ridiculousness, they respond with another wave of etiquette laughter. By crafting an otherwise usual scene significantly different from what the audience might ordinarily encounter in daily life, Lijo manages to get the audience to laugh hysterically.

In another instance, when the second protagonist Sajivan explains to an elderly lady that he's there to dig a few pits, she starts chasing him with an axe trying to kill him. Sajivan somehow manages to escape this spine-chilling murder attempt. After a few days, as the inhabitants gather to celebrate a first communion ceremony at a Liquor shop (yes, a liquor shop!), Sajivan encounters the same lady. She throws a subtle smirk and winks at Sajivan, who is taken aback by the profound insanity of the woman. Why in the world did she try to kill him? Can digging a goddamn pit get you killed? We ain't got no answers.

Each time you think the film has started to progress on a single narrative, it subverts you and takes you on another loop - a lunatic acid trip. Right when you start believing that you have finally understood the physical and social dynamics of Churuli's environment, you encounter something that's beyond your newly learnt capabilities of reasoning. As the film continues this way and approaches its end, if you are lucky enough to have not been numbed by the endless loops which the film intentionally takes you on, you get to see glimpses of extraterrestrial life combined with a few stunning visuals. You are also given the license to create your own interpretations and find your own answers to all the questions waiting to go bonkers inside your head.

If you are someone who usually sits through a complex movie hoping for the filmmaker to discern and simplify the maze he/she has built, Churuli shall end up disappointing you. There is indeed a lot that Lijo has tried to convey in this wilfully ill-weaved story, but he has also chosen to leave most of it open to individual interpretation. At the end of the day, what purpose did such elevated levels of absurdness serve? I don't know for sure, except that it was fun and absolutely hilarious.