Ekam web series review: A layered and deeply immersive journey through Karavali

When Ekam was first conceived nearly five years ago, its creators Sandeep PS and Sumanth Bhat wished for the show to be an embodiment of everything that is Karavali, from the region’s spirit, mythos, and philosophy, to how its people love, laugh, and eat. Plunging headlong into this idea, the duo takes us into the depths of the world that they (and their team of writers and directors) have seen from within and are very intimate with. Their creation is now an anthology of seven episodes that range from satire and tragedy to parables and puzzles. The episodes are intentionally devoid of a common theme, but still forged together by tales of human experience centred in Karavali.

One of the striking features of the series is its unhurriedness. Each story, preceded by an evocative animation sequence and a cryptic voiceover by Kishore Kumar, drops us into a very specific place and time of the Udupi district with not more than a character or two kept in focus throughout. The very first story, titled Haaraata (Flight), takes us to the idyllic coastal village of Padoor where the college-going Manjula (Pallavi Kodagu) has just encountered her crush Thomas (Shine Shetty), the classic boy next door. Manjula is visibly shy and smitten and it doesn’t help that the village’s long-nosed Mr Kirikiri (Prakash Thuminad) always maintains a keen eye on her to prevent her from sharing those unspoken romantic exchanges with the boy. 

Manjula’s thoughts are communicated largely through on-screen text that is humorous and punch-line-like. A major chunk of the episode, directed by Sankar Gangadharan and Vivek Vinod, is dedicated to an innocent syrupy love story laden with music, dance, comedy, and whatnot. One might opine that the denouement to this opening episode arrives a little too abruptly and that the writers do not dig all that deep into the crux of the story. However, the story springs a pleasant surprise as the title, it turns out, might have a profound meaning that we didn't spot initially.

Sumanth Bhat, one of the chief writers and directors of the show, then enters the fray with four episodes. Bhat showed with his debut feature Mithya that he has the knack and the empathy to trace the journeys of those who are lost and disillusioned and each story he tells here upholds that gaze with aplomb. He loves to make the little moments that speak volumes — the slight fall of a shadow on someone’s face to a quiet stare into nothingness. This approach is best expressed by the fourth episode of the show, titled Bhranthi (Delusion). 

Khushi (Arunima Minj) studies in class 10 and it’s the first day of school after summer break. The teens are aware of what their rigid curriculum holds for them and none are keen for lessons on the very first day. While their affable English teacher doesn’t agree to play anthakshari, he doesn't mind conducting a fun little experiment based on the blood groups of the students. For Khushi, though, the world is turned upside down when the experiment throws up a not-so-pleasant result.

The charm here lies in how Bhat, with the help of his cinematographer Ankur C’s ruminant visuals of the rain-drenched Udupi, eases us into the psyche of his protagonist. Khushi's inability to fully comprehend and express her worries to the elders around her, just as in Mithya, becomes a great tool for understanding the erratic nature of the human mind and how it starts to unravel with the smallest of triggers. Bhranthi, while dawdling a little as a narrative, remains still and meditative on its protagonist as she ponders and arrives at a conclusion of her own accord, never really being cajoled into making a decision. 

A similarly passive protagonist is seen in Bhat's Tulu short Shoonya, starring a very effective Basuma Kodagu. A gifted hunter named Guruva with the ethereal skill to spot the prey from a distance suddenly finds that his powers have evaporated, when he is handed a gun for the very first time in his life. As the man wages an internal battle to retrieve what was his, the film's unobtrusive tone takes centre stage once again and poignantly relays the horrors faced by an artist who is just not able to make any sense of his loss. Udit Khurana's visuals are both cinematic and hallucinatory in capturing this stirring fable, which by all means is among the best of the selection. 

Raj B Shetty, a marquee name in the ensemble cast, lends his comic-timing to a satire named Dombarata (Masquerade) which follows a Dubai-returnee struggling to start a new business and simultaneously save a broken marriage. Visually appealing, the story is perhaps a tad too literal in including political commentary and how the average Joe is fooled by the promise of a 'greater tomorrow' (the cow becomes an enterprising instrument here). But Bhat's control over his material makes it an engaging watch nevertheless. 

The fourth short Swathu (starring Suhan Shetty and Manasi Sudhir) is about a former matinee idol's scandalous old sexual escapade that rattles the lives of a naive young fan and a middle-aged woman in a distant village. In comparison to the rest, Swathu is a repetitive watch in terms of visual grammar and energy, even though the powerful ending manages to leave an impression. 

Ekam is an exquisitely layered piece of work, and this is further highlighted by the final two shorts of the series. In Poorvachara (Tradition), starring Prakash Raj and Ujwal U V, a man who is soon set to be perched on a funeral pyre suddenly shows up alive. As a group of men and women then try to take stock of the situation and ensure that traditions aren’t broken, the audaciously abstract premise takes a bizarre route to offer us a peek into the deep religious and cultural textures of the region. 

The final episode, titled Asmite (Identity), then comes as a sweet closure to the long parable that this show is, as it offers a whimsical glimpse into the life of an ageing Malayalam writer (Babu Annur). Both episodes are directed by Swaroop Elamon and Sanal Aman, with Sumanth Bhat writing them with Elamon.

Ekam, unlike a vast majority of the shows under the OTT ether, isn't exactly a binge-worthy product in that it demands your patience and leaves you hanging with more questions than answers on many occasions. The tonal similarity among all seven episodes becomes wearisome towards the end and it becomes apparent that the showrunners needed to employ more diverse voices to capture the essence: while women feature prominently, perhaps the inclusion of female writers and directors would have helped a little? 

That said, Ekam is a rare show that is backed by an intent to not appease but be insightful and its effects are perhaps realised in hindsight. Give this pioneer Kannada webseries its due chance, especially if you prefer watching something out of the ordinary.

The series, co-produced by Rakshit Shetty's Paramvah Studios, debuts on July 13th on a self-ideated platform named ekamtheseries.com.

Swaroop Kodur is a freelance film writer, critic, and a fledgling filmmaker. 

Disclaimer: This review was not paid for or commissioned by anyone associated with the film. Neither TNM nor any of its reviewers have any sort of business relationship with the film’s producers or any other members of its cast and crew.