Merry Christmas review: Sriram Raghavan blends toasty romance with chilling murder

While Andhuadhun, Raghavan’s 2018 thriller, was based on the French short film L’accordeur (The Piano Tuner), Merry Christmas adapts hardboiled noir writer-director Frédéric Dard’s Le Monte-charge (literally ‘dumbwaiter,’ but published in English as ‘Bird in a Cage’). An existential drama, it unravels like a paranoid nightmare or a dream gone wrong, if you will, that will keep you on the edge of your seat. The sense of dread and foreboding, and the underlying psychological unease, are all characteristically Hitchcockian; you know it from the word go.

The grind of life

When the film opens, what we see on the split screen are two grinders in motion: while one grinds chilies and lentils into milagai podi, the other turns pills into fine powder. The grind of life bruises and batters us all, but how we emerge out of its millstone is a matter of luck. And our strengths of character: if we must have our survival strategies in place to cope with its rough and tumble, we must also have the ground beneath our feet steady to ensure we do not stumble. The build-up to the central conceit, which leads to the somewhat underwhelming climax (it leaves a lot to be desired, but let’s talk about the good things first), is gripping.

Albert’s evening takes an unexpected turn when he has a chance encounter with Maria, who is dining with her daughter Annie (Pari Maheshwari Sharma), at a cozy restaurant not long after he gets off a train and takes a stroll through the city. Where could the father of the child be? he wonders. When the two break the ice and start chatting, it doesn’t take too long for them to connect. When Maria invites him to her apartment, Albert thinks his luck is in, but he soon discovers a chilling scene that pulls him into a dark and unsettling journey.

Albert and Maria open up about their respective pasts, and their failed relationships. Maria tells Albert that her husband, Jerome, is cheating on her. Albert, on his part, both reveals — and hides — the facts about his life’s situation. Secrets tumble out of their cupboards. So do the twists from the director’s sleeve. Radhika Apte, Sanjay Kapoor (a caterer pining for the damsel), Tinnu Anand (the neighboring uncle who treats Albert with wine on the day of his return), Pratima Kazmi, Vinay Pathak (the policeman), and Aswhini Kalsekar appear in fleeting but memorable roles.

The palpable chemistry

The unlikely pairing of Sethupathi and Kaif has worked tremendously well; their chemistry is palpable. At a time when love and romance often take a backseat to action on celluloid, Raghavan, with his innate skill of world-builiding, has delivered one of the most interesting murder mysteries, and a love story of unmatched depth. He imparts a warm and distinct aesthetic to the film, casting a nostalgic glow over the era. Production designer Mayur Sharma and cinematographer Madhu Neelakandan take us to every nook and cranny of Maria’s apartment. It’s a repository of minutiae: a Christmas tree, a well-stocked bar, countless books and artifacts. Looking at them, we know that the devil indeed is in the details.

This careful curation of the physical space opens a portal into Maria’s world, inviting us into aspects of her life that would otherwise remain hidden from us. In the slowburn, the deliberate unhurried movement of the camera transforms each frame into a palette that couldn’t be more reminiscent of Christmas. Neelakandan builds tension by using zooming techniques that oscillate between creating suspense and offering intimate glimpses into the characters’ souls.

Sethupathi communicates a lot through his eyes — moist, evocative, and brimming with untold stories. Kaif is impressive in her own ways; she holds her ground against the brilliance of Sethupathi. What makes Kaif’s achievement even more remarkable is her earnestness, a determination to prove herself once again even though she has already spent several years in the industry. There’s a poignant sincerity to her craft that elevates her performance to a spectacular level.

Though Merry Christmas may not do as well as Andhadhun, we must acknowledge that Ayushmann Khurrana, however efficient, is no match to Sethupathi. And this makes all the difference. In Raghavan’s previous film, Tabu led the charge; in Merry Christmas, it’s Sethupathi whose craft lingers in your memory, and makes the film find its way into your heart. Also, while Andhadhun was more intense and nail-biting, Merry Christmas leans more towards the emotional spectrum. It’s not just about the thrill, it’s about the fact that more than the murder, it’s the motivation behind it that matters.