You simply can't miss a thriller as thoughtfully-realized as Aattam

2024 cinema's hot streak with high-quality movies involving plays, like Ghostlight and Sing Sing, continues on in style with Aattam. However, those two American indies explored the ways plays can help mend the soul. Writer/director Anand Ekarshi instead uses a theatre group in Aattam as a microcosm of a larger chilling social issue. The men of this group (which also includes a single woman) represent how the voices of sexual assault/harassment survivors are minimized to maintain the status quo. The comfort of bystanders, who do not want to see their worlds upended, is prioritized over basic things like checking to see if survivors are okay.

Aattam begins with another successful performance performers like Anjali (Zarin Shihab), her trusted friend Vinay (Vinay Forrt), and major movie star Hari (Kalabhavan Shajohn), the latter of whom joined the collective just two years earlier. Afterward, these performers spend the night drinking, partying, and celebrating at a lavish house. The next morning, Anjali is suddenly absent from the group. Not only that, but all male members of this acting initiative (save for Hari) have been called for an important meeting.

It is here Madan (Madan Babu K) reveals that last night, Hari reached through a window and groped Anjali. Vinay and a handful of others, like the elderly Aji (Aji Thiruvamkulam), immediately call for Hari’s removal. If he can’t treat Anjali like a human being, he shouldn’t exist in this group, period. Most of the men, though, take to challenging the story. Was Anjali dressed a certain way that “provoked” Hari? Could she be lying for attention? Was it really as bad as she said? All the toxic phrases folks used to minimize survivors of disgusting predatory behavior (someone even claims her clothes at the part informed Hari’s lack of self-control) emerge at this table. Still others, like Jolly (Jolly Antony), opt for silence, refusing to take any side.

Aattam’s intimate scope confines much of the action to just this house where the male characters hash out their differences (Anjali also eventually returns on-screen to become a major player). In this space, Ekarshi focuses heavily on deftly injecting little flourishes to make each of the principal figures distinctive. There are such fascinating variations in each member of the acting troupe. This even extends to how doubters of Anjali’s story have their hesitancy informed by radically different means. Meanwhile, even folks supposedly “on Anjali’s side” are prone to engaging in obliviously dehumanizing rhetoric.

These unique qualities further enhance the realistic nuance of each Aattam character. They feel as fully dimensional as human beings existing outside of a movie theater screen. The narrow scope of the story allows Ekarshi to wring every possible revelation for maximum drama. Details like Vinay knowing about Anjali’s plight much earlier than he told his other actors, for instance, would get lost in the shuffle of a larger-scale feature. With the camera largely locked on just a few rooms in a house, each new lie or defamatory statement hits like a knife plunged into the chest.

It's further impressive how Ekarshi’s screenplay puts viewers into Anjali’s headspace even when she isn’t on-screen. As the male characters gather in this house, folks Anjali views as trustworthy (Vinay, Madan, and Aji, namely) are depicted as anchors of sanity for moviegoers. These are the people our eyes turn to for hope when everyone else at the table is dismissing Anjali’s perspective. Once Anjali physically returns to the forefront of the narrative, this screenwriting trait becomes even more pronounced. Aattam’s most devastating moments come from the audience and Anjali simultaneously realizing how little support she has in this work environment she treasures.

That lack of support eventually involves the acting troupe grappling with the prospect of traveling to perform their play overseas. The catch, though, is that Hari's involvement is non-negotiable. He's organized this international endeavor. It only exists with his participation. This fantastic storytelling turn keenly demonstrates another reason alleged sex pests keep getting “a pass” for their transgressions. When others can benefit from these harmful people, the experiences of sexual trauma survivors go out the window. The same phenomenon informing why Louie C.K. is playing sold-out stadiums right now informs Aattam in a very well-realized fashion.

This plot turn is one of the many ways Aattam demonstrates its craftiness in telling a story about sexual trauma. This is a tragedy not just about horrific acts against a woman transpiring. It also concerns the normalization of these actions in society. Elements like emphasizing Anjali’s point of view don’t enhance those thematic ambitions. It means Aattam is deeply subversive in the pantheon of typical mainstream films about survivors of sexual trauma. Typically, these narratives highlight perspectives of folks not suffering from such trauma. Such points of view are motivated by survivors functioning firmly as supporting characters. Think of the endless row of sexually violated women existing to spur male action movie protagonists into action. Even 2022’s She Said focused on New York Times reporters Survivors of Harvey Weinstein’s abhorrent behavior were supporting players.

Anjali, meanwhile, fuels every inch of Aattam. Ekarshi’s screenplay’s deeply empathetic gaze is exemplified in the movie’s willingness to slow down and explore Anjali’s life beyond her male co-workers. This is best demonstrated in an early scene at that fateful lavish party. Anjali offers up a big bed for Shajitha (Nandini Gopalakrishnan), one of the few other women on this excursion, and her daughter. Shajitha insists Anjali join them rather than sleep on a couch. Their sweet interaction concludes with Anjali wrapping her hands around Shajitha and expressing gratitude another woman is here.

Aattam keeps Anjali’s horrific abuse at the hands of Hari off-screen. Instead, Akrashi and cinematographer Anurudh Aneesh often fill the screen with corners of her life beyond her trauma. This friendship with Shajitha, for instance, and Anjali’s thoughtful nature are given precedent in Aattam’s visual language. This scene is made further engrossing thanks to the significance of Shihab and Gopalakrishnan’s compellingly warm dynamic. The two performers communicate real consideration and affection between the two women. They’re looking out for one another, listening to each other’s needs. Meanwhile, the male actors gaze upon the women through a lens of self-satisfaction. How can Anjali fulfill MY needs? How can women do something to improve my life?

The contrasts between these interactions are just one of many instances where Shihab shines as a performer. This gulf between this Anjali and Shajitha moment and how men treat the former character fascinatingly echoes a similarly evocative disparity in Killers of the Flower Moon. In Martin Scorsese's film, Mollie Burkhart (Lily Gladstone) takes her sister, Anna (Cara Jade Myers), aside and says “you’re my treasure”. Oil gushing beneath their feet is superfluous to her. What's truly essential is her sibling. 'Such a loving exchange is pitted against the relentless cruelty between white murderers like Ernest Burkhart (Leonardo DiCaprio) and William King Hale (Robert De Niro). They're connected by blood, but capitalist impulses define their priorities, not affection. In both cases, an oasis of compassion vividly and tragically contrasts with capitalism-informed dynamics between members of the privileged class.

If Aattam conjures memories of a modern-day Martin Scorsese classic, then something has gone very right here. Mesmerizing performances like Shihab’s turn heavily inform that accomplishment. Just a late scene of her riding on a bus alone, her face quietly communicating a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, is a stunning sight to behold. She’s an incredible anchor for this entire enterprise. Immense props as well to individuals like Forrt or Antony. They work wonders in organically peeling back the layers on their characters. Every time we learn something new about Vinay or Jolly, these actors make it seem like organic extensions of what we already know, not strained character detours.  

From its superb ensemble cast to deeply striking examples of blocking to an emotional gut-punch of an ending, Aattam functions effortlessly as a captivating thriller and a vital, haunting portrait of how abuse of sexual trauma survivors takes many forms. There’s the misery you experience at the time of the assault. Then there’s all the ways society and men dehumanize you afterward. Aattam explores that weighty material with searing finesse. Anand Ekarshi's latest directorial effort certainly continues in 2024 cinema's heavy presence of movies centered on-stage performers. However, it's also a must-see motion picture in its own right that lingers with you days after the credits finish rolling.

Aattam is now streaming on Amazon Prime Video in the U.S.