'Aasha' review: Urvashi brings fire and vulnerability to an uneven but compelling tale

Take a look at Urvashi’s recent choices in Malayalam cinema. An actor who has inhabited almost every shade of womanhood on screen now seems increasingly drawn to the matriarch: the woman who holds the family together, makes its decisions and, more often than not, pays a price for being the one in charge. In ‘Ullozhukku’, she played a mother desperately trying to uncover the truth about her son’s death while grappling with the uncertainty surrounding her daughter-in-law’s place in the family.

In debutant director Safar Sanal’s ‘Aasha’, with Joju George and Aishwarya Lekshmi in prominent roles, Urvashi plays another formidable matriarch — a mother of two daughters who is fiercely invested in their lives. Possessive, headstrong and quick-tempered, Aasha is the kind of woman you probably wouldn’t want to cross paths with too often. She does not take kindly to being bossed around, and can fly into a rage at the slightest provocation.

In one telling scene, she loses her temper after discovering that someone has casually skipped ahead of her in a bank queue. It is a small moment, but one that neatly captures her temperament: stubborn, argumentative and impulsive, yet driven by a deep concern for her daughters.

What makes ‘Aasha’ interesting is that the film does not confine her to the familiar mould of the self-sacrificing mother. She is flawed and often difficult, and her love for her daughters can manifest itself as possessiveness and control. That gives the character a messiness rarely afforded to older women in Malayalam cinema. The film deserves credit for attempting to place such a woman at the centre of a story without immediately softening her edges.

The film initially appears to be a conventional family drama. Aasha is determined to see her younger daughter married, even though the daughter shows little interest in settling down. There is also the possibility of a romantic chapter in Aasha’s own life, suggesting that the film might remain within the familiar territory of family, marriage and matchmaking. But Sanal gradually takes the story elsewhere, particularly when Aasha’s life intersects with Joju George’s character.

That encounter introduces a new narrative thread and alters the film’s trajectory. Joju, who co-writes the film with Sanal and Ramesh Girija, brings the intensity one expects from him, although his character occasionally threatens to slip into the familiar territory of the brooding, volatile men he has played before. The role, however, gives him enough room to find a different rhythm, particularly as the relationship between his character and Aasha develops.

If Aasha works as a character, much of the credit belongs to Urvashi. The role requires her to move effortlessly between irritation, aggression and vulnerability, often within the same scene. She can make Aasha’s outbursts interesting, and can convey the affection beneath her abrasiveness without resorting to easy sentimentality. There are echoes of her earlier iconic roles, but Aasha is a more complicated proposition. She is not the conventionally doting mother like in ‘Achuvinte Amma’; her relationship with her daughters is marked by friction as much as affection.

The film’s central idea, however, is stronger than its execution. The screenplay does manage to unravel several layers of the story, but there are times when it struggles to give the developments that follow enough weight and credibility. The transition into the film’s second narrative movement feels underdeveloped, and some of the tensions involving Joju’s character are not established with sufficient conviction.

Urvashi’s character works precisely because of her unpredictability, which makes her actions compelling and keeps us guessing. But the film could have added more nuance by giving the other side the same level of credibility and depth, making the conflict feel more balanced and layered. This is where the film suffers at certain intervals. Yet, despite these shortcomings, the plot remains intriguing.

Aishwarya Lekshmi does not have too much screen space, but she makes the most of what she gets and delivers her part with restraint. The sound design and music add considerable depth to the proceedings, complementing the film’s shifting mood and helping build tension as the story grows darker. The film also delves into the complexities of the human psyche, exploring how people respond to fear, uncertainty and difficult circumstances without completely losing sight of its central conflict.

Ultimately, ‘Aasha’, with its intriguing central conflict, works best when it stays close to the woman at its centre. Urvashi gives the character the texture the screenplay sometimes lacks, making her anger, affection and contradictions feel convincing without turning her into either a victim or an idealised mother. Safar Sanal deserves credit for attempting a story that gives an older woman agency, flaws and enough complexity to drive the narrative. The film may falter in its later turns and leave some of its ideas underdeveloped, but it remains engaging because of its central character and Urvashi’s assured performance. ‘Aasha’, which is just around two hours and seven minutes long, is yet another reminder of how much Malayalam cinema, can do when it allows actors like Urvashi to inhabit women who are not easily defined.