Mental Health. Gaslighting. Wokeness. Love Language. Cognitive Dissonance. Conflict. Process. Stress. Therapy. It has been a few years since these words became common parlance in certain circles of society. Director Yuvaraj Dhayalan’s latest, Irugapatru, is set in one such world where couples in trouble don’t think twice before going to counselling to iron out their differences. Of course, this avenue isn’t their first choice, but they eventually get there. Through three couples — Mitra (Shraddha Srinath) and Manohar (Vikram Prabhu), Rangesh (Vidaarth) and Pavithra (Abarnathi), Arjun (Sri) and Divya (Saniya Iyappan) — Yuvaraj attempts to explore the fragilities of marriage, and how communication is the key to bridging two people’s highly individualistic choices. By adopting the method of couples counselling, Yuvaraj runs the risk of creating dissonance due to its seemingly elite solution that hasn’t yet pervaded all sections of society. But, that is a risk the makers take, and even if the film shapes into a mass therapy session at times, there are enough honest moments in the film to validate introspection.
The common factor between the three couples of Irugapatru is marriage counsellor Mitra, who is one of the more fascinating characters in recent Tamil cinema. As a psychologist, Mitra hears so many stories of broken marriages that she is wary of repeating those mistakes in her real life with a too-perfect Manohar. This leads to some hilarious situations at home, which adds much-needed levity to the proceedings. These portions make us laugh with the film till Yuvaraj decides to pull the rug from under our feet to make us think if being too careful and measured in a relationship is even possible.
This romance track is offset by the loveless track of Arjun and Divya. We see Arjun pleading with Divya to be more receptive in the marriage, and the latter breaking down saying she just can’t love him anymore. Now, what does a couple do in such situations? They can do a lot of things, and Yuvaraj seems to suggest that counselling is one of those things. Initially, we root for Arjun, and as their story unravels, we realise the microaggressions that have the potential to shake the bedrock of a relationship.
The only man in Irugapatru who is at fault right from the moment we see him is Rangesh (Vidaarth). He has a problem with his wife Pavithra (a terrific Abarnathi), who has put on weight after marriage and pregnancy. His behaviour, his words, and his drastic decisions paint him as a misogynist and an A-grade you-know-what. He wants to divorce her and does everything to make her feel miserable about herself including complaining of bad breath when she comes close for a kiss. The film normalises the concept of divorce even if it takes a slightly problematic stand on that front.
However, at one point, Rangesh breaks down in front of Mitra and narrates a compelling sob story about his core issue. Now, there is no doubt that the story is strong enough to warrant forgiveness. But can personal trauma ever be an excuse for you-know-what behaviour? However, Vidaarth’s terrific performance convinces us that Rangesh is flawed but not a bad person. Abarnathi’s breakout performance convinces us to throw our weight behind her character even if her decisions seem wrong. In fact, every actor in the film, especially a fantastic Shraddha, who is the fulcrum of this entire machinery, is so good that we almost look past the conflicting contradictions in the characters.
It is interesting how the Pavithra-Rangesh and Divya-Arjun stories are the catalysts in the Mitra-Manohar story, which is a slightly elaborate version of the famous Visu joke that asks where a mental health doctor goes if they have mental health issues. As I said, Mitra is fascinating, but Manohar is painted as too good for not just her, but anyone in the world. While it seems earnest to see him ask Mitra to be possessive and encroach on his privacy, initiate fights, and be clingy, it makes one wonder if he’d be the same if she didn’t know where to stop.
Yuvaraj puts forth the right kind of problems in Irugapatru, but his solutions aren’t always right. However, in some ways, isn’t that what therapy and counselling is all about? One person’s solution cannot be duplicated for another person. With Arjun and Divya, Mitra uses terms like love languages and methods like gratitude boxes. On the contrary, Mitra suggests Parvathy play the waiting game for her husband to come to his senses. Of course, she also asks her to reduce her weight, which might seem like a wrong thing to say, but Mitra takes the right route by asking if it is something Parvathi herself wants in the first place.
The men are not alright in this film, but it is the women who have to do the grovelling and pleading for the most part. A monologue here, and a realisation there, the men manage to come out of this exercise with their heads held high. They aren’t really held accountable for their actions. Of course, it is safe to assume they introspected hard enough, but cinema is a visual medium, right? When so much time is used to showcase their toxicity, why show their changeover with just one monologue or a montage sequence? For a film talking about therapy and mental health, it doesn’t bode well that evolution is instant. Also, the couples aren’t diverse enough, and we don’t spend enough time with them to want their relationships to work. In fact, despite being invested in their individual arcs, I couldn’t care less about the future of these couples.
While Justin Prabhakaran’s score aids in dialling up the emotional beats, the placement of the songs ends up as a distraction. Similarly, the film also elicits contrasting responses. The issues might seem too farcical, and the solutions too far-fetched, but that’s also because our mind likes to remain stress-free. We want to think we are above these problems. But once the self-imposed shackles of feigned superiority break, we can see how the problems aren’t really farcical and the solutions aren’t really elite. Of course, not everyone can afford counselling, but that is a problem for another day. But for now, Irugapatru reminds us that therapy, might not work unless the couple really wants to work on their relationship, but it will definitely not work if they aren’t ready to work on themselves.
Director: Yuvaraj Dhayalan Cast: Shraddha Srinath, Vikram Prabhu, Abarnathi, Vidaarth, Sri, Saniya Iyappan
