Sesham Mikeil Fathima review: A chirpy Kalyani Priyadarshan in a superficial film

Fathima is a chatterbox. As a child, she lies upside down on the sofa in the drawing room and gives a “live” commentary for Tom and Jerry as it plays on TV. She’s incorrigibly talkative, and the habit stays with her even as she becomes an adult – a lovely, chirpy Kalyani Priyadarshan dressed in bright colours. 

Fathima has shades of Beevi from Thallumala (2022), and Kalyani’s performance feels familiar. Still, the actor is very likeable on screen, playing the role with a casualness that comes easily to her. The Malabar dialect rolls off her tongue, and Kalyani doesn’t skip a beat in her glib dialogue delivery.

Directed by Manu C Kumar, Sesham Mikeil Fathima is about a young woman from Malappuram who dreams of becoming a football commentator. Not only is the profession a male bastion, she comes from a society where women are expected to be seen and not heard. It is her progressive grandmother (Sarasa Balussery) who ensures that she gets educated in an English medium school, and supports her whenever her spirit is on the verge of being crushed.

Sesham starts off on the cheery note of the “feel good” genre in Malayalam cinema – a category of films where the protagonists face conflicts but not to the extent that you feel troubled as a viewer. So, though Fathima comes from a conservative family, her supreme confidence and winning attitude mean that she steamrolls every problem before it can be allowed to develop. “Times have changed,” she says repeatedly throughout the film. It’s not possible to keep a woman tied down or get her married without her consent, she says, even as she’s slapped and dragged by the men in her family. It’s tempting to buy into this fantasy, but this also means that the film remains stubbornly superficial in its attempt to chart Fathima’s journey. 

Take, for instance, the scene where Fathima walks into the apartment of a man who could potentially assault her. Her primary emotion is one-upmanship, and she even goes on to give a “live” commentary on the situation. Manu’s writing never quite delves into the gendered nature of the battle that Fathima faces – all we get are a few cliched dialogues that sum it up. Instead, the film invents conflicts that become tedious – a villain who stands in Fathima’s way (Sabumon) and a sort of grouchy hero (Shaheen Siddique) who helps her along. Neither of these plot threads is interesting and the second half meanders into predictable turns. The incident that leads to the climax feels artificial, even though Kalyani somewhat saves the final act with her performance. 

Sudheesh as Muneer, Fathima’s mechanic father, emerges as a realistic character in an otherwise saccharine film. He loves his daughter but worries about what the world will say about this wild child. The actor plays the role with conviction, and this could have been an insightful film where a conservative man slowly understands his daughter. Unfortunately, Manu rushes through his arc, too. It is as if a special kind of Dolo 650 has been discovered for centuries-old patriarchy and misogyny, with all the characters receiving instant “relief” from their ailments. 

Hesham Abdul Wahab’s peppy songs elevate the “feel good” mood of the film, but the background score unnecessarily amps up scenes that feel flat. Like that sequence when Shaheen Siddique’s Solomon throws a few punches – we’re hardly invested in the character and the heroism seems forced. Femina George is adequate as Ramya, Fathima’s journalist friend, and her styling works well. 

Football fans may take pleasure in the cameos and trivia that the film has on offer, but Sesham comes off as a wasted opportunity. Kalyani is sure-footed in kicking the ball – the writing and direction, though, come in the way of her scoring a goal. 

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.

Sowmya Rajendran writes on gender, culture, and cinema. She has written over 25 books, including a nonfiction book on gender for adolescents. She was awarded the Sahitya Akademi’s Bal Sahitya Puraskar for her novel Mayil Will Not Be Quiet in 2015.