“Comparing ‘Joji’ and ‘Irakal’: Exploring Parallels and Divergences in Familial Dynamics, Masculinity, and Societal Commentary

Since the release of Dileesh Pothan’s ‘Joji,’ there have been numerous discussions about its striking resemblance to the KG George classic ‘Irakal’ made 36 years ago. While the filmmakers have acknowledged ‘Macbeth’ as their source of inspiration, it’s hard to ignore the similarities in setting, plot structure, characterizations, and core themes between ‘Irakal’ and ‘Joji.’ Here, we bring these two captivating films together to explore their comparability. Paradoxically, they are distinct creations by filmmakers who have demonstrated unwavering dedication to their craft

When we first meet Joji (played by Fahad Faasil), he comes across as somewhat comical. He inhabits a sprawling, isolated bungalow that seems detached from the rest of the world, and Joji struggles to find his place in it. His father exudes a formidable masculinity with bulging muscles, still capable of intense workouts, while his elder brother Jomon is equally imposing. The second brother is no pushover either. Given the overwhelming hyper-masculinity in the household, it’s no wonder that the diminutive Joji feels overshadowed and shortchanged.

Joji forms a connection with the more ‘gentle’ figures in the family, particularly his sister-in-law and nephew. Occasionally, he asserts his sense of ‘power’ in a somewhat comical manner, relishing moments like driving their expensive Jeep Compass, owning a horse, or doting on his nephew. It appears that Joji lost his mother at a young age and is almost obsequious towards his father. The narrative is characterized by neglect, high expectations, and a strong emphasis on wealth.

Both ‘Irakal’ and ‘Joji’ share a similar backdrop and template: central characters are Jacobite Syrian Christians residing in Central Kerala, living in grand double-storied bungalows on vast rubber estates. These families are under the iron grip of a tyrannical patriarch, followed by his conniving, subservient sons who navigate a world of muscle and financial influence. While ‘Joji’ is framed in a more theatrical style, ‘Irakal’ clearly embraces cinematic storytelling.

In ‘Irakal,’ KG George crafted his version of the ‘Angry Young Man,’ a prototype popularized in Bollywood during the ’70s and ’80s as a reaction against the Emergency. ‘Irakal’s’ Baby (Ganesh Kumar in a brilliant debut) offers a more authentic portrayal of the youth’s response to corruption and widespread unemployment during that era, a time when Naxalism was on the rise.

Baby and Joji exhibit both similarities and differences. Baby, unlike Joji, appears distant and reclusive at first, but this is a facade. He has internalized his anger and disgust at the corruption and depravity within his family. From accompanying his brother to buy illicit drugs to witnessing his sister’s affair with a household employee, Baby has been exposed to it all. He is already suffering from severe depression, turning to drugs, staying awake at night, and transitioning into a hardened criminal.

Baby speaks about seeing blood drip from the rubber trees, confessing to his priest-uncle that he doesn’t love his parents and believes there’s no love within his family. Baby’s motivations are clear, while Joji’s remain more ambiguous. There’s insufficient backstory to fully understand his transformation into a criminal. Even the humor in Joji is more lighthearted than dark. When his father pushes Joji’s chest in anger, Joji quivers in pain but adds, “You’ve really put on weight! I’ll die if you keep doing this.” The catalyst for Joji’s descent into criminality, whether it’s greed, a thirst for power, or anger at his despotic father’s contemptuous treatment, remains unclear.

While Baby immerses himself in books and posters to visualize his ambitious plans, Joji relies on Google to devise his course of action. It’s commendable how Pothan keeps his film contemporary, paying attention to the smallest details.

Both Joji and Baby share a history of neglect and reside in households dominated by patriarchal figures. Ironically, Baby has a mother, although she is practically invisible and often ignored by her husband and children. Even her daughter maintains a strained relationship with her. Baby’s relationship with his girlfriend seems possessive, evident in his anger when she leaves him for a more suitable suitor. This rejection is something he struggles to accept, possibly due to a lifetime of feeling abandoned, and it reflects how he views women through a moral lens.

In ‘Joji,’ there is only one woman in the picture, Joji’s sister-in-law Bincy (Unnimaya Prasad). Like Joji, she is a victim, her voice silenced by a tyrannical patriarch who has confined her to the kitchen. In a twisted way, they find solace in each other, with the woman tacitly endorsing the crimes Joji commits. In ‘Irakal,’ we encounter various types of women, each at different stages of oppression and regression. There’s a mother who cooks, prays, and weeps for her children, a sister who is as manipulative and immoral as her father and brothers, a sister-in-law similar to Bincy who tolerates her alcoholic husband, and a girlfriend who calmly leaves her boyfriend for a better option. Characteristic of KG George’s female characters, the film refrains from passing judgment on any of them. In a narrative filled with morally ambiguous characters, the sister becomes one of them.

In ‘Irakal,’ the priest (Bharath Gopy) symbolizes reform and compassion, while Joji’s priest (Basil Joseph) appears more as a caricature, offering a subtle commentary on religious orthodoxy.

The resemblance between the brothers is uncanny. In ‘Joji,’ the eldest brother Jomon (Baburaj) is an alcoholic divorcee with a teenage son, whereas in ‘Irakal,’ a similar description is more fitting for the second brother (Sukumaran), an alcoholic with a neglected wife. However, Jomon in ‘Joji’ receives a more sympathetic portrayal, depicted as a flawed, impulsive, and quick-tempered alcoholic who deeply loves his father and doesn’t clamor for money, in contrast to his siblings. It’s in these details that the devil is said to reside in a Dileesh Pothan film.

The second brother, Jason, in ‘Irakal’ is mild-mannered, having spent his life under his father’s dominance, feeling humiliated by his inability to challenge it. Pothan meticulously captures the nuances of the community and its inhabitants, whether in their body language, habits, clothing, or responses. In ‘Irakal,’ the elder brother is the father’s subordinate, while the second brother is more perceptive about the dynamics within his family, even in his inebriated state.

The patriarchs Mathew and Kuttappan P.K. Panachel are similar in their pursuit of money, power, and control over their children. While Mathachan’s father alludes to his son’s questionable past involving animal cruelty and tree felling for rubber plantations, Kuttappan’s background remains shrouded in mystery.

‘Irakal’ is strikingly shot, especially in the scene where Baby kills his sister’s lover. The style is unlike the ’80s, employing a steady camera that creates a voyeuristic atmosphere,