The filmmaking team of director Dileesh Pothan and writer Syam Pushkaran has gifted the Malayalam industry a series of masterful, almost anthropological studies of Kerala life, but none have been as profoundly dark or surgically precise as the 2021 film, Joji. A loose, yet utterly brilliant, adaptation of Shakespeare's Macbeth, the film discards grand tragedy for cold, domestic horror, positioning itself as a piercing look at suffocating patriarchy and the lethal nature of familial greed.
The narrative unfolds almost entirely within the confines of a wealthy, isolated Christian estate in Kottayam, ruled by the tyrannical patriarch Kuttappan P K. The opening sequences establish a world suffocated by the old man's authority and his rigid control over the family's finances and futures. His three sons—Jomon, Jaison, and the titular Joji—live repressed lives, their desires and ambitions stunted by the ever-present threat of Kuttappan’s wooden cane and his verbal abuse. The house itself becomes a key character—a gilded cage where fear and resentment breed in the shadows. This oppressive atmosphere, masterfully captured by the production design, is the perfect stage for the protagonist, Joji (Fahadh Faasil), a perpetually overlooked engineering dropout whose quiet desperation is misinterpreted as harmless sloth.
Syam Pushkaran’s screenplay is an exercise in adaptation through radical subversion. Unlike Shakespeare's Thane of Cawdor, who is a celebrated warrior corrupted by prophecy and his wife's ambition, Joji is a weak, resentful failure motivated primarily by a paralyzing fear of his father and a craving for financial independence. The "witches" are replaced by the common, irresistible lure of liquid wealth. The writer makes the film's most crucial and fascinating deviation in the character of Bincy (Unnimaya Prasad), Jaison’s wife. She is the closest parallel to Lady Macbeth, yet her influence is subtle, almost entirely conveyed through silence and calculated action. Bincy doesn’t prod Joji with fiery speeches; instead, she quietly provides the crucial insight and tools necessary for his crime, becoming the calculating, invisible catalyst that the patriarchal structure failed to recognize.
Dileesh Pothan's direction is the bedrock of the film’s power. Continuing his style of 'Pothan brilliance,' he allows the camera to observe, rather than dictate. The framing is often tight, trapping the characters within the claustrophobic interiors. Every scene is economical, trusting the audience to pick up on the silent language of frustration—the way Joji quietly cleans his shoes before a pivotal act, or the near-invisible flicker of calculation in Bincy’s eyes as she watches the family dynamic shift. The direction transforms the act of murder from a dramatic spectacle into a banal, chillingly simple family chore.
Fahadh Faasil delivers a career-defining performance, embodying the quiet menace of a man reaching his breaking point. Joji’s physical transformation is subtle but profound: initially, he slouches, avoiding eye contact; after the act, he stands taller, his movements become sharper, and a terrifying, cold certainty settles in his eyes. He evolves from a victim of the system to a cunning monster, and Faasil navigates this complex psychological shift with unnerving control, cementing Joji as one of Malayalam cinema's most memorable anti-heroes.
Joji is a triumph of mood, writing, and performance. Shyju Khalid's exceptional cinematography uses muted colours and heavy shadows to visually articulate the moral decay within the family. Coupled with the atmospheric sound design that amplifies the smallest sounds of the isolated estate, the film crafts an atmosphere that is tense, absorbing, and deeply unsettling. It is a slow-burn thriller that masterfully uses the cultural specificities of a wealthy, conservative Kerala Christian family to explore universal themes of avarice and power. Joji is not just a great adaptation; it is a seminal work of minimalist, modern cinema that deserves a permanent spot in the pantheon of contemporary Indian filmmaking.
