Review of the movie “Neru”: A poignant, perceptive courtroom drama with a steadfast focus

Mohanlal’s disillusioned, pessimistic, and worn-out ardent supporter Vijaymohan is easily persuaded to dust off his robe. The case, which involves the rape of blind sculptor Sara (Anaswara Rajan), is very severe. However, she is a warrior who will endure torturous legal proceedings in order to pursue justice. Vijaymohan’s resolve is what drives her to return to the courtroom. He adds, “I might not succeed, but I don’t want her to.” Even though it’s difficult to prioritize the survivor and her triumph in a movie starring a megastar, director Jeethu Joseph and co-writer/actor Shanti Mayadevi manage to create a successful courtroom drama. They make sure that Answara and the topics discussed are not diminished by Mohanlal’s presence.

Neru is being advertised by Jeethu as a “emotional courtroom drama” in an attempt to temper the high standards established by his other movies. Although it is very emotional, the main feelings are those of a suspenseful drama. Considering the nature of the crime, a good deal of pain and trigger warnings would be expected; however, the creators avoid unduly graphic representation. The strategy stays just enough in the background to convey the seriousness of the issue without going too far in disturbing us. The movie makes it quite obvious whose side it is on, who we should support and who we should despise. Its emphasis on its essence is maintained throughout, as I said before. It makes sense when you consider how, during one of the most important scenes in the movie, a woman’s presence of mind in the face of tremendous risk becomes a major talking point.

Think of Neru as the opposite of Drishyam. The suspense in the Drishyam flicks came from a guy trying to escape after committing a crime. With one exception, Neru also acts in a similar manner. We aim to punish the culprit as much as possible this time. But how is it conceivable given that he is the wealthy businessman’s son and has hired the most shrewd and toughest defense attorney, Rajashekar (Siddique)? Given his extended absence from the courtroom, what are the prospects against Vijaymohan?

The script for Neru is jam-packed with details—so many in fact that there were times when I couldn’t keep up with them all. It continuously feeds us data after data and switches between scenes in the fastest possible way, so there’s never a chance to consider logical errors. It recognizes that it wouldn’t be a good idea to waste time on small talk in this day of short attention spans. It is intended to be concise. There isn’t any effort to make us feel sorry for Vijaymohan by giving him a protracted, depressing past, unlike in Sidney Lumet’s The Verdict, which is an excellent character study and courtroom drama. Even though he lacks confidence and has failed in the past, Vijaymohan does not indulge in excessive self-pity. He isn’t haunted by a prior tragedy or turns to alcohol for solace, unlike Sam Alex, another Jeethu Joseph character from Memories. He works from home and is still engaged in his career. There’s no thrilling background soundtrack or slow-motion opening to go along with his return to the courtroom. Just before that, he informs his assistant that he’s going to take an Uber rather than the luxury car he just brought.

That’s not to argue that Vijaymohan doesn’t have any “heroic” moments in the movie at all. This is Mohanlal, after all, and he’s in a Jeethu Joseph movie! However, it once again takes an appropriately measured and controlled stance when it comes to sharing the spotlight. The film is sustained by Anaswara (in an incredibly moving performance) and Siddique (at his sleaziest, manipulative best), aside from Mohanlal, who plays Vijaymohan as someone who is desperate for victory and takes some time to regain his mojo. There are unquestionably moments in the movie where there are fleeting energy lapses.

I mention this because Neru sometimes has the same issue that plagued Jeethu Joseph movies in the past—even the greatest ones—weak supporting casts mixed with overt references to Malayalam cinema from the 1990s. At one of the most serious points in the movie, for instance, the senior supporting cast member who portrays the suspect’s wealthy father delivers a startling line. The same applies to the suspect and his friends, who sometimes behaved like antagonists from Malayalam films from the 1980s and 1990s. (Jeethu’s last movie, Kooman, highlighted this problem the greatest.)

Also, I noticed that my focus was impacted in areas where the material was presented in an uninteresting manner. It seems like you’re going through a dry lecture in a school. Here, efforts at explication, an excessive reliance on legalese, and the theatricality of the performances all work against the viewer.

Furthermore, the discourse is violently stopped often, making any effort to mimic a real-life courtroom scenario—where someone is continually ordered to look at the judge while answering questions—frustrating. If this was an effort to keep things realistic, why wasn’t it applied to the supporting cast members’ performances as well?

But you tend to overlook Neru’s flaws since it offers so many excellent ideas—mostly intricate backstories that are relevant to the case at hand. In addition, the filmmakers should be commended for taking use of the medium of film to address a variety of legal system nuances and implore viewers to be more mindful. Instead of having a limited, generalized perspective, it requires you to put yourself in the shoes of the less fortunate and have a better grasp of what happens in certain circumstances. And this isn’t a spoiler: the last scene is my favorite. A reporter is instantly discouraged when he dares to lift his camera while everyone else had respectfully dropped theirs. That was a strong conclusion.