'Pathirathri' Review: Navya Nair & Soubin Shahir Shine In a Predictable Tale Of Relationships
Ratheena’s Pathirathri begins on a disquieting note, a drug-use sequence wrapped in eerie silence, a tired police station soaked in fluorescent gloom, and a rural night brimming with unspoken tension.
From its first frames, the film promises a dark, layered thriller about guilt and moral failure. Yet as it unfolds, that promise remains largely unfulfilled.
Spoiler Alert:
At the centre are two police officers — Jancy Kurian (Navya Nair), earnest but conflicted, and Hareesh (Soubin Shahir), cynical and emotionally burdened.
During one of their night patrols, they encounter two strangers in odd circumstances but dismiss them as routine. Later, a journalist named Ansar Ali (Sunny Wayne) goes missing — and guilt gnaws at the officers as they realise the disappearance may be linked to the same night.
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From there, Pathirathri drifts between guilt, investigation, and the quiet disintegration of personal lives. Ansar’s wife Yasmin (Ann Augustine), the presence of Anjali (Athmiya), and the involvement of Felix (Shabareesh Varma) weave a network of deceit, betrayal, and moral ambiguity. The setup is rich, but the storytelling remains inconsistent — too deliberate to thrill, too repetitive to sustain suspense.
Ratheena, known for her psychological precision in Puzhu, aims for a similar meditative tone here — dissecting human frailty rather than delivering a conventional crime thriller.
However, the balance between mood and momentum often tips the wrong way. The film’s pacing is sluggish, and while it creates an atmosphere of unease, the lack of narrative urgency makes it unexciting and emotionally distant.
Scenes linger longer than necessary, and the same incidents are retold multiple times from different perspectives without offering new insight, leaving the viewer detached.
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Technically, the film is impressively mounted. Shehnad Jalal’s cinematography beautifully captures the darkness of rural nights, flickering streetlights, and the damp eeriness.
Jakes Bejoy’s score is moody and textured, though occasionally it overstates emotions the script hasn’t fully earned. Together, they create an atmosphere that feels immersive even when the narrative itself falters.
Navya Nair delivers a composed and credible performance as Jancy, vulnerable yet quietly determined. Soubin Shahir portrays Hareesh with weary realism, his bitterness from a broken marriage bleeding into his professional life.
Their dynamic anchors the film. Shabareesh Varma as Felix lends a bit of gravity, while Ann Augustine, Athmiya and Sunny Wayne make the most of their limited screen time. Indrans and Harisree Ashokan provide authenticity in supporting roles, grounding the story’s world in lived-in realism.
But the major drawback lies in Pathirathri’s predictability. The mystery surrounding Ansar’s death and the connections that follow — to Felix, to Anjali, and to the police officers themselves — unfold exactly as one expects.
The film’s climax, though emotionally motivated, feels conventional and uninspired. The supposed twist lands with a soft thud — neither shocking nor deeply moving.
Despite these missteps, Ratheena’s intention remains sincere. She explores themes of guilt, betrayal, and the fragile lines between personal failure and professional ethics.
The film often reflects on how human weakness, not evil, drives tragedy, but sadly lost amid its unexciting pacing and underwhelming structure.
Timeline Verdict:
Pathirathri is a film of quiet ambition, visually accomplished, sensitively performed, and thematically thoughtful, but undone by its predictable storytelling and underwhelming narrative. Ratheena’s humanistic lens is admirable, yet the film lacks the sharpness and emotional voltage that could have made it memorable.
