‘Thudakkam’ review: Vismaya Mohanlal and Ashish defy nepotism jibes in gripping survival thriller

Dubai: Let's first address the elephant in the room: Thudakkam is undeniably a bit of an unapologetic nepo-kid showcase.

Vismaya Mohanlal, the daughter of iconic actor Mohanlal and Suchitra, headlines the film, while the deliciously sinister villain is played by Ashish, producer Antony Perumbavoor's son.

Given Mohanlal and Antony Perumbavoor's decades-long association, it's hard not to notice the family connections. But here's the thing; both newcomers justify their casting more often than not.

Vismaya, who plays Meenu, is undeniably raw. There are moments, particularly in the heavier emotional scenes, where she appears a little gawky and unsure of herself. Yet there's something strangely endearing about her screen presence. She has an unaffected innocence that makes you root for her, and once the film shifts into survival mode, she grows into the role with increasing confidence. You keep watching because she feels authentic rather than manufactured.

Vismaya's biggest strength is that she feels real. She plays an ordinary young woman without trying to manufacture heroism, making her easy to like.

Her relationship with her father, played with aching love and quiet vulnerability by Sai Kumar, forms the emotional backbone of the film. Sai Kumar delivers a deeply felt performance, bringing warmth, tenderness and gravitas to every scene he's in. He is a joy to watch and effortlessly elevates the film's quieter moments.

Ashish, meanwhile, is the film's biggest surprise. As a near-silent psychopath, he projects menace with unsettling ease. His performance is stripped of theatrics and all the more effective because of it. He is the kind of villain you genuinely love to loathe and hate with all your might.

The film also indulges in a few overt nods to Vismaya's real-life lineage. Mohanlal appears in an extended cameo as a mentor figure, and those moments feel a little too eager to remind us who she is. They're affectionate but also rather on-the-nose, almost as if the film momentarily loses faith in letting its debutante stand on her own.

And that's where the contrast becomes obvious. Mohanlal possesses the kind of effortless charisma and star power that only decades in cinema can build. The moment he appears, the screen seems to belong to him. Neither Vismaya nor Ashish has that commanding presence yet; but that's hardly a fair comparison. They're just starting out, and despite their rough edges, both leave enough of an impression to suggest there's genuine promise beneath the privilege.

To its credit, Thudakkam isn't just interested in chasing star-power alone. It's also a commentary on what it means to be a woman constantly looking over her shoulder. It taps into the uncomfortable reality that for many women and girls in India, even something as ordinary as boarding a public bus can feel unsafe. Unwanted stares, casual groping, men who are clueless about consent, and the exhausting vigilance that women are expected to maintain every single day are woven into the narrative without feeling preachy.

The film also explores victim blaming, slut shaming and the alarming indifference surrounding women who speak up. More than anything, it captures the unsettling feeling of women being hunted; not just by one psychopath, but by a society that often dismisses their fears until it's too late. Manoj K. Jayan's sincere police officer is a welcome counterpoint, but he also highlights a larger truth: one good cop cannot fix a system where too many women are still expected to fend for themselves.

It's this undercurrent that elevates Thudakkam beyond a standard survival thriller. The scares aren't frightening simply because there's a killer on the loose; they're frightening because they tap into fears that many women already carry with them every time they step out alone.

Interestingly, there's something about Thudakkam that reminded me of Drishyam. Not because the stories are similar, but because both films are rooted in the lives of an ordinary family that finds itself caught in extraordinary circumstances. Here too, the emotional stakes come from that simplicity -- a loving father, a young woman trying to live a quiet life, and a world that suddenly turns hostile.

Where Thudakkam differs is in the agency it gives its leading lady. If the teenage girl in Drishyam had been given the chance to fight back instead of merely surviving the aftermath of violence, this might have been the result. I won't give the game away, but once the film hits its pre-interval twist, it transforms into an unexpectedly empowering survival thriller.

My only gripe is with its villain and how that character is written. Ashish is wonderfully menacing, proving that you don't need lengthy monologues to terrify an audience. His cold stare and simmering rage do most of the talking. But I couldn't help wanting more. Who is this man? What turned him into such a remorseless predator? The film is so invested in making us fear him that it forgets to make us understand him. A little more backstory would have made an already chilling villain even more unforgettable.

Having said that, if there's one thing Thudakkam left me with, it's the urge to enroll my own children in self-defense classes. That's perhaps the film's biggest achievement. Beyond the thrills and the chase, it reminds you that personal safety isn't just a plot device; it's a life skill. In a world where women are too often forced to look over their shoulders, the film's message about being prepared feels less like fiction and more like a necessity.