One secluded, one expelled: The beauty of Joymon and Monichan in Jan-E-Man.
My thoughts.
Some characters stay within us, even after the credits start rolling. Like a breezy wind in a sunset, we cherish them; enjoying every second of its effect.
While I was watching Jan.E.Man, expertly directed and written by Chidambaram in his debut work, two characters that mesmerised me were Joymon (Basil Joseph) and Monichan (Balu Varghese).
(Both these characters are introduced in context of their respective hurdled: isolation for Joymon while abandoned for Monichan.)
The funny thing is that both these characters are like apples and oranges. One is settled in Canada, while the other considers the interiors of the mountainous Kumily as his abode. One is groomed and buzzing with energy, while the other’s looks automatically draw contempt from others.
Yet when we strip these characters to bones and flesh, one similarity strikes us…
Both are left alone in their own labyrinth of loneliness and pain.
In the case of Joymon, the fundamental element of the character is his craving for human connection. Through the serene white landscape of Canada, the makers establish the isolation that haunts Joymon with the opening shot itself. Yet when he begins to interact with others, he immediately makes them despise him. He becomes petty. Compassionless.
Another interesting detail that adds great depth to his character is how Joymon expresses his isolated living in a rather simple manner. After picking him up from the airport, Joymon recounts his acquaintance with a local gunda through Facebook. Though it immediately strikes off as comedic in nature, it reflects his need for constant interaction with people—and how he even enjoys a mere Facebook comment.
In addition, when he chats with a disturbed Monichan for the first time, he casually conveys the fact that he is suffering from depression. No drama or exaggeration. He simply drops it amidst their conversation. And when he considers death as an option to end his pain, the subtle change in Monichan’s expression and voice tone elevates this scene.
Monichan immediately strikes off as a vagrant; rebelling against his family’s expectations and wishes. There is a pure roughness that embraces him, evident in his unkempt hair and shabby dress. He barely addresses his family and chooses to occupy himself with liquor at the backyard of the house. Rather than paying respect to his dead father, his purpose in the arrival was just to fulfil his ‘son’s duty.’ In stark contrast to Joymon, Monichan keeps others away.
(A scene where the audience truly empathised for Monichan.)
But even then, he is bleeding from inside. Ever since the incident that led to him being ousted from his very own family, he had no one. Trapped in a maze, he was forced to navigate his way alone. Though he had friends around him, none offered him relief. The family he looked after and supported after their mother’s passing have bitten him. Abandoned him like an umbrella forgotten after a shower of rain.
Both characters cry. Yet no one hears. Joymon is unable to mingle with others. He is desperate, and it is evident in the way he talks and lights up when someone offers him the slightest attention (at the funeral house). Monichan too is in need of love from his family. When he catches a glance of his dead father’s photo, the wall he had built shatters. His elder sister (a nun) embraces him, silently apologising with tears for leaving them alone after their mother’s death.
Both these characters are hurt and yearning for human connection. While one openly projects it, the others is quite and brittle. Nonethless, both understands each other in a brilliant moment; in a poetic clash of pain and lonliness.
Wired to:
Latest watch: Saudi Vellaka (Amazing, poignant film; yet to finish it; gonna write a heck load on it :))