Imagine the grating noise of metal scraping the ground, how it could rasp your nerves and fray your patience. Now, place that sensation within a cinematic context, and you have a rough sense of experiencing Jayam Ravi’s latest film, ‘Siren,’ which is mired in both auditory excess and narrative tedium. This movie is a conundrum wrapped in a cacophony, a sonic assault that paradoxically dulls rather than sharpens its thriller edges.
The storyline of ‘Siren’ appeared promising at the outset, a tantalizing prospect with ambitions of intrigue and suspense. It introduces us to Thilakan Varman, portrayed by Ravi, a man who steps out on a fortnight’s parole after fourteen years in prison, having been implicated in the murder of his wife. But destiny has a twisted script, as a slew of fresh murders coincide with his release, and a dogged police officer, Nandhini, played by Keerthy Suresh, is convinced Thilakan is orchestrating these gruesome acts.
But as the movie’s storyline meanders aimlessly, much like the characters ensconced within it, the narrative’s initial allure diminishes, its plot points scattered like puzzle pieces without a coherent image. Antony Bhagyaraj, a first-time director, attempts to string together the fragments but struggles to find a rhythm that resonates beyond surface-level curiosity.
Officer Nandhini’s chase leads her down a path riddled with hunches and hearsay, her investigation playing out with less precision and more brute insistence. Even as the movie seeks to humanize her with a backstory of professional suspension and murky superiors, her on-screen antics, characterized by an imprudent disregard for due process, quickly veer from intriguing to irksome.
Meanwhile, Yogi Babu, as Velankanni, Thilakan’s parole officer, injects a smattering of humor into the otherwise somber proceedings. It is a comedy that, amid the seriousness, is both jarring and welcome, a respite from the dense atmosphere that pervades the film.
Amidst this are glimpses of Jayam Ravi’s efforts to imbue his character, Thilakan, with depth and nuance, attempts that flicker briefly but are ultimately lost in the surrounding narrative muddle. His characterization is one of the film’s few merits, hinting at a complexity that the screenplay does not adequately explore.
The character of Malar, Thilakan’s daughter, epitomizes the film’s struggle with emotional authenticity. Malar, who harbors a deep-rooted resentment toward her father due to the societal stigma his alleged crime has wrought upon her, could have been an evocative lens through which to examine the themes of redemption and reconciliation. Unfortunately, like much else in the film, her potential as a character is never fully realized.
With every frame, ‘Siren’ seems to drift away from delivering a captivating thriller and, instead, becomes wrapped up in its sound and fury, signifying nothing. The film’s titular reference might make sense, with the overbearing score and a storyline that flits rather than flows, it does indeed feel like enduring a blaring siren—a signal of caution that is both loud and foreboding.
In the end, cinema-goers might find themselves emerging from theaters, ears ringing and minds weary, pondering the paradox of a thriller that numbs rather than tingles. ‘Siren’ is now showing on the big screen, a reminder that the marriage of sound and story requires a deft touch lest the audience be left reaching for earplugs instead of the popcorn.
