Mother-daughter tropes are pretty common on screen. A terminally ill patient and caregiving struggles have been shown on screen in myriad forms before. We have seen natural disasters become characters in films before. So, what’s special about this Christo Tomy directorial? The women, of course. Ullozhukku (2024) is the recipient of multiple coveted awards because it presents a mother-in-law-daughter-in-law dynamic free of the stereotypes that have long dominated Indian films. Yes, there’s drama, tears, and a sentimental ending. But the undercurrent, as the film’s title (Ullozhukku, meaning “undercurrent” in Malayalam) suggests, is the biggest draw. Screened on the closing day of the Bhubaneswar Film Festival, Ullozhukku drew curious audiences eager to see an award-winning film from a language that wasn’t their own.
Set in the flooded backwaters of Kerala, Ullozhukku follows the struggles of Anju (Parvathy) and her mother-in-law, Leelamma (Urvashi), who are caring for Leelamma’s son, Thomaskutty (Prasant Murali), even as the floods threaten their low-lying house. It is established pretty early on, and in quick succession, that Anju is unhappy in her marital home. A brief intimate scene is all it takes to register that Anju’s life is nothing different from that of other married women in arranged marriages who are stripped of their agency in loveless (not sexless though) marriages. She is in love with Rajeev (Arjun Radhakrishnan), a Hindu, and Christo Tomy wisely refuses to over-explain their past. And it is intricately tied to events leading up to the wedding.
Anju continues to see Rajeev in secret and harbors no guilt about it. She fulfills all the duties of a wife except letting her husband touch her when he clearly is terminally ill and unable to even walk on his own. She is more of a nurse than a wife to him. Leelamma appears compassionate and deeply religious, yet grief and loneliness gradually push her towards the same patriarchal attitude that torments her daughter-in-law, and makes her willing to strip her autonomy.
It is pertinent to notice how none of the three characters here has much control over their circumstances. So, they all stick to their agency, including Anju, who wishes to escape her rotten existence in a sickly household with a history of emotional unavailability in its men.
Thomaskutty dies just as Anju realizes she is pregnant. Before she could run away, everyone finds out, and a ray of hope emerges in a house with a dead body. Floodwaters delay the funeral, trapping everyone together as long-buried secrets begin to surface. For Leelamma, the unborn child becomes a final connection to her dead son; for Anju, it represents the future she refuses to accept or surrender to. The scene where Anju is seen rowing a boat in the flooded backwaters of a haunted Kerala landscape reflects her struggle to save herself from drowning in duties society deems fit for a woman without even an ounce of regard for her choice or say in her own life.
However, Anju is not a victim. She reclaims her agency and is willing to fight for it. She makes it clear to her mother-in-law that the child is hers. It doesn’t take long for Leelamma to put two and two together. She tries her best to keep Anju bound to the house. Even as Anju’s parents, Leelamma’s daughter, and people from the local Church begin to gather (and gossip) as the funeral inches closer, skeletons keep tumbling out of the closet. As more truths emerge about Thomaskutty’s illness and Anju’s past, the family’s carefully maintained façade collapses, exposing the ways in which everyone has participated in preserving secrets through silence. Anju realizes the entire system is against her autonomy, including her own mother.
Aiding the parents and the in-laws in this cover-up is Sister Rosamma (Veena Nair) of the local Church, who accepts her involvement and that of the Church Priest as well. It’s a mix of religion, family, and community governing women to keep them as selfless, unpaid caregivers all their lives. The moment the woman speaks up, her womb and her body are used against her to push her into silence and subjugation.
Anju is not the only fighter here. Leelamma finally relents even as she struggles with the secret she kept from Anju. She takes Anju’s side when her daughter Sheba (Smruthi Anish) chides Anju for dishonoring the family, and reminds Sheba of her absence during Thomaskutty’s caregiving and Anju’s service towards him, not just in life but in death, too.
Leelamma has had her own secrets too. But she refuses to let her past define her family. She knows why Thomaskutty was emotionally closed off and clung to the wristwatch his late father gave him on his deathbed. Despite her selfishness and efforts to hijack her daughter-in-law’s life, she is also willing to understand Anju’s point of view when the time comes, and why she needs to let Anju live her life the way she wants.
Despite being failed by everyone around her, including her lover Rajeev, Anju chooses the only one who saw her for who she was. The ending might seem detrimental to the feminist ideology the film seeks to uphold, but it is not so. If anything, it upholds not just one, but both women’s autonomy.
Anju and Leelamma are the only ones who bore the brunt of a terminal illness and survived entirely on their own while the men of the family died. Though not related by blood, it’s their individual and collective defiance of circumstances that makes them each other’s life partners, more than the men they were married to. Their methods might differ, but they both fought against patriarchy and refuse to be defined as simply mothers by everyone around them.
In any case, there are no villains in Ullozhukku. No one is judged because everyone is a victim of societal chains that hurt each other. Christo Tomy is sure to showcase how individuals are bound not just by their religion, community, or traditions, but also by economic subjugation and class consciousness. Even the dead have no room to rest in peace, as is evident from multiple scenes showing a flooded, claustrophobic church cemetery.
Ullozhukku has its parallel in the director’s real life. Apparently, Christo Tomy based the script on his real life when his grandfather passed away during the devastating floods of 2005 in Kerala and the family had to wait nine days to bury him.
Urvashi is outstanding as Leelamma, well deserving of the National Award bestowed upon her. She is indeed one of the protagonists, not a supporting character. Parvathy is powerful as ever, and Jaya Kurup and Alencier Ley Lopez leave strong imprints as Anju’s parents. The film’s multiple National and State Film Awards are a testimony to its power and relatability despite the so-called language barrier.
As in most Malayalam films, nature is a character here — the floodwaters act as a barrier for the family, forcing everyone to confront the past and deal with the present before moving on. Like the undercurrent from which it derives its name, the film’s emotional force is often invisible, but impossible to resist. Long after the floodwaters disappear from the screen, it is these quiet currents — of love, loss, forgiveness, and freedom — that continue to linger.
‘Ullozhukku’ is currently streaming on Netflix USA.
Retrospective Courtesy of Neha Jha
Feature Image Courtesy of Netflix