Guruvayoor Ambalanadayil review: A Priyadarshan-style comedy that misses the mark

With an able cast and a director who executed his last work — Jaya Jaya Jaya Jaya Hey (2022) — near-perfectly, the film had a lot of expectations riding on it. However, it’s plausible to consider that the film’s creation might have been motivated, at least in part, by the opportunity to partake of the windfall that Malayalam cinema has lately become.

Consider this: The average budget of a Malayalam film is around Rs 15 crore. And, on an average, they make — as per Ormax Media reports — between Rs 17-27 crore from selling the streaming rights alone. So, whatever the film earns from theatres/multiplexes and overseas rights are over and above it. What an idea, Sir ji!

Spun from a simple thread

Guruvayoor Ambalanadayil seems to have been conceived from a simple thread written backwards by throwing in elements of slapstick and situational humour — sadly, pretty much nothing works here. Even if you were to willingly suspend disbelief, this mindless comedy may not appeal to you.

Here’s the deal: Anandan (Prithviraj) talks Vinu Ramachandran (Basil Joseph) out of a heartbreak from the past that continues to haunt the latter. Anandan even convinces Vinu to marry his sister Anjali (Anaswara Rajan) and the wedding is fixed and everything seems to be going fine until Vinu finds out that Anandan’s wife (Nikhila Vimal) is his old flame.

The premise sounds promising but trying too hard to write a comedy of errors and elicit laughs kills whatever promise the plot held. Prithviraj gets into his comic avatar which comes quite naturally to him, but here he becomes too loud and reminds us of Lalu Alex with his menacingly-funny act.

Basil Joseph’s USP is his boy-next-door charm and innocence and his casting makes sense — especially since he makes an odd pair with Prithviraj — but even his act comes across as unbearable as the film progresses.

There are a host of supporting actors from Jagadeesh, Baiju, Irshad, Yogi Babu, Rekha, Ramesh Kottayam and PP Kunhikrishnan but most of them have nothing more to do than go through the motions.

The final act: A damp squib

Like the comedies of the Priyadarshan school of humour, there is a huge commotion of a climax sequence at the crowded Guruvayoor temple precincts but even that final act fails to salvage the film. And, to make it worse, there is a Nandanam reference at the end.

Nikhila Vimal sports a scowl or grimace throughout the film and Anaswara Rajan has little opportunity to perform. Although songs are generally considered expendable in films these days, the ‘K for Kalyanam’ song seems to be the best thing about Guruvayoor Ambalanadayil.

It’s a huge letdown from Das after Jaya Jaya Jaya Jaya Hey hit all the right notes: although he wasn’t originally supposed to helm this one. Apparently, writer Deepu Pradeep (of Kunjiramayanam fame) had narrated this story to Prithviraj some years ago when Vinu’s character was supposedly offered to him.

One can’t figure out how Prithviraj got convinced enough to produce the film, but as pointed out earlier, filmmaking in Malayalam is a successful business model in the OTT era, especially post-pandemic.

A lot of effort has been invested in generating laughs with a plethora of characters, but it’s not easy to pull off a Priyadarshan-style comedy solely by employing similar tropes. Even the OTT release Bro Daddy (2022), directed by Prithviraj with fewer characters, appeared to fare better than this.