Imagine two women in a lonely house with a large yard that benefits no one else. Would the authorities care about their two votes? In Sajin Baabu’s abstractly titled Theatre: The Myth of Reality, this is how a discussion unfolds among locals in Kerala’s backwaters as they talk about the isolated lives of a spinster named Meera (Rima Kallingal) and her mother Sharadamma (Sarasa Balussery). Their lifestyle is peculiar and far removed from the mainland. In the agriculture-based ecosystem they’ve built for themselves, the duo is surrounded by a serpent temple (kaavu) where a prayer must be performed every day.
What prompted the women to seclude themselves? There are conspiracy theories all over town — not that the locals care much, but they do talk. Meera also becomes the latest object of intrigue for a YouTuber named Manoj (Dain Davis) after he captures her climbing coconut trees. Unlike Janhvi Kapoor’s stunt in Param Sundari, this is a genuinely unusual sight in Kerala — and rarer still when the woman lives alone on an island with her aging mother.
Public curiosity aside, Meera is no stranger to lust. On certain nights, in her vast homestead, she engages in acts that would satiate her bodily needs. In one of the film’s most powerful scenes, the mother, holding a torchlight, sees her daughter at it. The old woman quietly walks away, reading the air. Meera hasn’t reached the smartphone era yet. Her demeanour and attire — both suited to her vocation — may appear unattractive, but she doesn’t seem discontent about the absence of anything. The film also hints at a history of sexual abuse and nightmares, briefly explored as context.
The first act of Theatre: The Myth of Reality is devoted to constructing their world. When torrential rain threatens to wash away their house cat, the restless mother runs to rescue it, prompting Meera into action. It’s a symbiotic relationship between the women and the animals — both domestic and wild, including the snakes that dwell in their yard. Nature provides for them, too, through the vegetables and fruits they sell on the mainland. The same nature, however, turns Meera’s life around forever in a second. An unseen bee stings the woman, and she develops severe rashes that spread across her body.
What follows is a chronicle of how modern society responds to someone critically ill. Theatre: The Myth of Reality surprisingly doesn’t take sides. Instead, it shifts its gaze across various perspectives. Relatives have their sound bites; the local moral police make their presence felt. The Good Samaritans do their work, as do the preachers of every faith. After all, what’s wrong with endorsing the power of prayer (which is free), along with the noble act of seeking donations from whoever can contribute? Celebrities share viral videos, donations pour in from across the world, and NGOs show up with bumper deals. In short, there are many blocks in this puzzle.
The only two who remain separated from this chaos are Meera and her mother, women who have rarely left their home, except perhaps during floods. Both are unused to people, especially Meera, whose hardship-filled upbringing we gradually learn about.
The rest of Theatre: The Myth of Reality explores how the world comes together to save a woman for whom “saving” might mean something entirely different. Will they crowdfund the seven crores required for her treatment? What if the costly medicine doesn’t work? Does benevolence always come with a mandatory receipt for tax benefits?
Inspired by real events, Sajin Baabu’s film raises many questions. It examines the meaning of superstition — how faith can be interpreted, twisted, or commercialized. It explores social and familial ostracization and serves as an eerie reminder that if you stop speaking for years, you might eventually go mute. With much of it unfolding in the dark, the film carries traces of horror — not the jump-scare kind, but the quiet tension around a possible snake bite or, worse, a human intrusion.
That said, if there’s one element the film lacks, it’s humour. Theatre: The Myth of Reality takes itself a bit too seriously. As a result, the satire isn’t sharp enough. The conniving characters are too real to be detested. While this realism works in parts, the lack of tonal extremes makes it harder to root for Meera and her mother when it truly matters. But it’s heartbreaking to watch the mother’s repeated pleas. After all, Meera and the house are her only familiar, safe spaces.
Another area that tests our patience is the inconsistent pacing. Although the first act’s emptiness feels deliberate, it has a lot to say. The same cannot be said once Meera is hospitalized. The redundancy and repeated telecasts of opinions make the film somewhat less engaging, though never dull. Theatre: The Myth of Reality is not a film you’d abandon midway; it keeps you intrigued enough to want to know what happens next.
Sajin Baabu knows what he wants to say in his poignant mother-daughter drama. The film maintains a quiet, muted tone (DOP: Syamaprakash MS) throughout, coming alive only in the final reel. The production design is notably rich, particularly in the way the women’s house is laid out – with intricate pillars and several dated paraphernalia around.
ALSO READ: ‘Santhoshathinte Onnam Rahasyam’ review – A chatty, inventive take on relationships
In the central role, Rima Kallingal is a picture of strength as Meera. After a point, her lines grow fewer, but her presence drives the film. It’s a studied, methodical performance — far removed from the vibrant characters she’s played before. Sarasa Balussery delivers a mammoth surprise as a mother at an unexpected crossroads in life. It’s painful to see her struggle in a hospital bathroom, unsure how to use it. She radiates grandmotherly warmth with the nurse’s little child, the same way she channels devotion while performing rituals in the home temple.
Dain Davis is terrific as Manoj, whose enthusiasm with a tinge of selfishness is something we wholeheartedly embrace. Ann Jameela Saleem and Mekha Rajan lend the right shades of kindness and diplomacy that their roles demand. Pramod Veliyanadu, who plays Jagan, has a distinct personality that makes us appreciate the character’s innate nature. Meenakshi Raveendran, in a brief appearance, parodies the entire clan of influencers.
Theatre: The Myth of Reality never judges its people. You might find yourself agreeing with any party at different points — the YouTuber’s curiosity, the doctor’s pragmatism, the relatives’ animosity, or even the protagonists’ faith in snake deities. In that sense, Sajin Baabu’s film is an engaging, multi-layered watch that invites numerous interpretations — about womanhood, society, faith, culture, and kindness.
Rating: ★★★ 1/2
