Siren seems to want to appease each of its facet, that it forgets to engage the audience in the larger scheme of things
Last Updated: 03.50 PM, Feb 16, 2024
Siren, in which Jayam Ravi dons an aged and young look, traverses back and forth in its screenplay, paving way for a revenge thriller story. When Thilakan Varman (Jayam Ravi), an once ambulance driver, is now given the taste of freedom through parole, the hauntings of his past never seem to leave him alone. There are people being murdered, and all seem to point directions towards his side. On the other hand, is cop Nandini (Keerthy Suresh), who bears the cross of custodial violence on her shoulders, at the helm of the murder mystery. And in between all of this, is a father and daughter bond, that Siren rests upon. The film is about the clashes of sirens, that of police and ambulance, that of between power and truth. There is also a comic relief through constable Velakanni (Yogi Babu). Amid all these, Siren seems to want to appease each of its facet, that it forgets to engage the audience in the larger scheme of things.
Siren has a plenty of elements going on. There is father and daughter bond, a bigger addressal of caste, a crime scene, and police trying to chase after the killer. To give its due, most of the scenes in Siren seem to connect with each other. But rather being organic, they seem to be forced upon, in what it results as a convoluted screenplay. In other cases, no explanations whatsoever is given.
To give an example of the latter, it becomes a running trope that Nandini has accusations of custodial torture leveled against her. The allegations, in fact, takes the best of the role, and one constantly waits to reap the benefit of this layer that is added to the character. It is also because Tamil cinema is scarce with women in khaki roles. So, when one such role comes with an added feature, one tends to expect a more fleshed-out characterisation. But unfortunately, Siren does not seem to want to explore this unusual anger and give a resolution. Likewise, the film starts on an emotional note of a father and daughter duo, and how the latter despises her only living parent, but we aren’t given a rounding arc to conclude this storyline.
Jayam Ravi plays a man with poise, heroism, and aged intelligence, at his decent best. There are some moments of subtlety, but Siren is not loud enough to catch on these moments of silence and thrive on it. Siren becomes a melting pot of threads combined, but none are used to their fullest potential. Despite some hints of strong characters, Siren is a film that becomes too weak in its writing and, in a rush to tie them up, pulls more strings than it can. At one point, the film uses caste infestation as a catalyst, but does the film want to go into depth and address the issue? The question is up for debate.
Siren may seem like a serious revenge thriller, but if there are one of the few things that make it engrossing, it must be Yogi Babu’s track. The comedian, who plays a constable, acts as shadow police to Thilakan. The chemistry they share results in some witty one-liners, that for once do not resort to body shaming him. It also makes me wonder about the potential of a story that would revolve around a parole convict and shadow police, making it up for a hilarious subject onscreen.
Jayam Ravi and Keerthy Suresh do their parts well, but sometimes it is not enough to save the dense verbosity the script has in form of several threads. The film feels like one project, where thoughts have gone behind it, but it is not enough to resonate with the audience. Siren becomes a film that evokes some decibel to show its presence, but it is mostly noise that cannot cement a strong presence.