By the time Sinu Solomon (Arjun Ashokan) enters Romancham, we are trying to make sense of the paranormal vibes that have seized the narrative. Set in the suburbs of Bangalore, away from the usual razzmatazz associated with the city on celluloid, the film focuses on a bunch of men huddled inside a grimy, rundown house. They live a largely cluttered existence, struggling in a city that’s still alien to them. So when they discover an Ojo board and an elusive female ghost, the men are jubilant and scared at the same time. This, for them, is a respite from their existential crisis. And one fine day, when fear starts to overpower them is when they put a lid on their tryst with the paranormal. Sinu’s entry that way is well-timed.
You first hear his version of a dubbed conversation between Krishna and Jesus. More than the conversation, what strikes you is the gentle, but strangely eerie smile that seldom leaves his face. There isn’t much of a backgrounder about Sinu, except that he is Jibu’s (Soubin Shahir) childhood friend, but Sinu endears himself to us. Every time he moves around in that house, greeting everyone with a knowing (inward) smile and a slight head shake, Sinu starts to grow on you. What’s loveable is his naivety, which is consistently upheld by the actor with subtlety. You stifle a laugh but also have this strange sense of empathy for him. And Arjun Ashokan layers him with unpredictability—it’s one of those funny, frightening acts that lingers.
Even after he leaves the scene, you aren’t sure who this guy is. Yet, you have already warmed up to him.
If there is one thing you perhaps don’t hold against Arjun Ashokan, it is that he is a product of nepotism. He did get an easy entry, but otherwise, his filmography suggests that he has taken the stairs rather than the elevator. If his father Harishree Ashokan has immortalised several comic characters on screen, Arjun, right from the start, stayed away from humour. And it has worked in his favour.
Though his debut (Orkut Oru Ormakoot, 2012) hardly registered, Soubin Shahir’s Parava was the first film in which Arjun had some screentime along with a gang of boys who spend their free hours loitering in the streets of Mattanchery. Then he did two diametrically opposite roles in Mridul Nair’s Btech and Amal Neerad’s Varathan.
Btech, placed in Bangalore, had Arjun playing Azad, an unassuming Btech student who quietly finds a place in a boisterous gang of Malayalee friends in the city.
“The role was initially planned for Asif and Asif’s role was supposed to be done by another popular actor. But when that didn’t happen, we switched roles and were in search of an actor to play Azad’s role. One day while standing at Panampilly Nagar, Arjun came to meet me along with his friends. We were stuck by his innocent smile, and we thought it would suit our character,” recalls Mridul Nair.
“When he comes into the frame, it’s difficult not to like him. Even on the sets, he carried that endearing nature. He brings so much effort to a character, asks a lot of questions and is tensed before he embarks on the journey. I felt the emotional connection to Azad was because of his performance,” adds Mridul.
If Azad was a softie who blushed when his female friend mentioned his innerwear, Johny in Varathan was a product of toxic masculinity. He views women only through a lens of objectification and Arjun is disturbingly detailed as Johny. The way he sizes up Priya (Aishwarya Lekshmi) with his stare is frightening.
PC Gireesh TP, one of the nine cops assigned for election duty in Chhattisgarh in Khalid Rahman’s Unda is an inherently naïve character, and Arjun is a natural in his shoes. "That was the first performance I noticed. He definitely has screen presence," agrees Vivek Santosh, social media film critic.
But Arjun’s role in Ahammed Khabeer’s June is quite tricky. On the face of it, he is problematic—that smitten boy who silently stalks June (Rajisha Vijayan) from school days. It’s especially bothering in the song montage, which has Anand (Arjun) secretly following June all through her school and college life. But they manage to reclaim his sanity when he meets June at a crucial juncture in her life. Arjun is very likeable in those stretches, never discomforting, just a long-term friend she can rely on. Yet you know that the love is still there in his eyes.
Director Ahammed Khabeer says they wanted a new actor for Anand and decided on Arjun after Parava. “We checked his Instagram, found both his young and slightly older look nice and felt he has a face that’s very relatable,” Ahammed says, echoing Mridul’s thoughts about Arjun’s willingness to submit himself for a character. Another aspect about Arjun is his affable nature, says the June director. When he signed him for Madhuram, Arjun went out of his way to acquaint himself with his costars and that reflected on screen.
In Wolf, he played a toxic boyfriend, while in Madhuram, he was an emotionally unavailable spouse, and a wayward young man who indulges in casual fights in Ajagajantharam. But it’s perhaps when he slips into those boy-next-door moments that the actor in him really shines. That way, Deepu in Super Sharanya, is tailormade for Arjun – an affable lad who falls easily in love and is battling minor conflicts in his love life. It’s his naturality that wins here as well.
Suraj in Pranaya Vilasam is once again the boy next door who has been in and out of love, and is in a steady relationship, but finds himself infatuated with an older woman. When his mother dies, he develops a bond with his dad. Again, Arjun makes him look very easy and relatable. His character Hamza in Thuramukham deals with oppression and poverty, set in British India. If his brother Moidu has aligned with the oppressors, Hamza has chosen his father’s path of righteousness, but ends tragically. As Ahmed says, Arjun can fit into any landscape and play various shades with ease. That’s evident in the way he handles Hamza. In the same year, he was good fun as Sethu in Trishanku, who tries to elope with his girlfriend, but ends up being chaperoned by his uncles.
Vivek feels he needs to be a bit more choosy at this stage. Agrees film critic Sreehari, who thinks he is too visible these days— “He has an easygoing presence but is too visible, and if only he took time to think about his craft, he can still surprise us,” Sreehari says.
Neelima Menon has worked in the newspaper industry for more than a decade. She has covered Hindi and Malayalam cinema for The New Indian Express and has worked briefly with Silverscreen.in. She now writes exclusively about Malayalam cinema, contributing to Fullpicture.in and thenewsminute.com. She is known for her detailed and insightful features on misogyny and the lack of representation of women in Malayalam cinema.
Views expressed are the author's own.