Thudarum - a META homage to Drishyam (and Lalettan)

Thudarum

Malayalam - Drama/ Thriller
165 mins
JioHotstar

With Drishyam 3 in the works, I remember looking at the poster for Thudarum and wondering: Why did Mohanlal sign this film? I got my answers after watching it—and this is my perspective.

The premise feels eerily familiar: a family man, thrust into a murky situation, has to dig deep to extricate his loved ones from the corrupt workings of the system. Instead of a quiet cable operator with a love for cinema, we see him as  Benz—a boisterous taxi driver with a legendary reputation in his town, and an Ambassador car that’s almost a character in itself. When the car is seized unjustly and things spiral, Benz is forced to confront old wounds and unspoken truths to reclaim his dignity.

And so, Thudarum becomes a different beast—ultimately playing out like a punchy, massy thriller, a louder, self-aware cousin to Drishyam. Directed by Tharun Moorthy, it might just be the most meta homage to Drishyam yet. The tension is louder, the action is turned up several notches. In that sense, Thudarum chooses to amplify everything.

But the film takes its time warming up. The first 30 to 45 minutes are bogged down by family sequences that feel meandering and overly familiar. Malayalam cinema has, by now, trained its audience well—we know the drill. The everyday rhythm of a middle-class household, the gentle foreshadowing of conflict, the loving-yet-firm father figure…all well-worn territory. These scenes stretch too long and add little to Benz’s character arc.  Bharathiraja’s role as the wise elder “Master” is touching on paper, but in practice, doesn’t bring much value to the story. It feels like a nostalgic casting choice more than a dramatic necessity.

Mohanlal, however, keeps the ship steady. He brings gravitas and later, the swagger. There are slow-motion walks, punchy one-liners, and a face-off with the law that surely played to whistles in cinemas. The film clearly aims to present a mass-hero version of Lalettan, without losing sight of its emotional core.

Shobana, playing Lalitha, does the best she can with the limited screen time. Her character is short-changed in the second half. I wish there had been a couple more emotional scenes for her. That said, it is always lovely to see her and Mohanlal share the screen again. They have acted together in over 50 films (I have seen only a handful), a couple of their scenes here—one joyful, one intense—are so natural.

The film’s stealth weapon, though, is Prakash Varma. His portrayal of the antagonist is gloriously evil, unrepentantly theatrical, and wickedly fun to watch. He is over-the-top at times—but in the best way possible. He radiates a kind of cruelty that makes your blood boil. For me, his performance is one of the film’s major differentiators —a deliciously evil character you cannot wait to see taken down. He reminded me of Kalabhavan Mani in his villainous prime: that perfect blend of menace, madness, and unpredictability.

Tharun Moorthy’s direction shows ambition. He is  clearly tipping his hat to Drishyam while carving a more mainstream path. It works—for the most part. Jakes Bejoy’s music and score are textured and support the film well.

Where Thudarum falters is in its editing. The screenplay could have been tighter. Several red herrings are thrown in—perhaps to build intrigue—but they feel more like distractions than deliberate misdirections. It is  one thing to layer a mystery; it’s another to scatter breadcrumbs that lead nowhere.

Ultimately, Thudarum knows it stands in Drishyam’s shadow—and it does not try to escape it. Instead, it dances in it. For fans of Lalettan, there’s plenty of nostalgia here, laced with fresh energy—and one unforgettable antagonist—to make this a crowd-pleaser that mostly delivers what it sets out to do.