Her Review: Lijin Jose Delivers Ambitious Yet Flawed Tales Of Women’s Silent Struggles

Lijin Jose’s Her marks the director's return to Malayalam cinema after a decade, his last feature being the 2012 hyperlink narrative Friday. Lijin Jose, known for his unconventional storytelling, takes a shot at diving into the intricacies of women’s lives with this anthology. Backed by a stellar cast—Aishwarya Rajesh, Urvashi, Parvathy Thiruvothu, Ramya Nambeessan, and Lijomol Jose—the film sets out to tell interconnected yet distinct stories, all unfolding in the vibrant and layered city of Thiruvananthapuram.

While the stories reflect varied socio-economic realities, they are linked subtly by their shared cityscape and the underlying challenges faced by women. Writer Archana Vasudev collaborates with Jose to bring these tales to life, supported by Govind Vasantha’s evocative music and Sameera Saneesh’s impeccable costume design. Despite its ambitious premise and its attempt to portray women as complex, layered individuals beyond the trope of virtuous heroines battling the world, Her struggles to achieve an organic flow. Some storylines lack depth and cohesion, leaning more on performative elements than on genuinely compelling storytelling. 

The anthology follows five women: Anamika, Ruchi, Reshma, Abhinaya, and Santha. Each grapples with uniquely personal struggles that expose the systemic misogyny embedded in everyday life. Anamika’s narrative, a mix of social commentary and metaphor, unfolds as she rushes to a job interview, only to be thwarted by societal barriers at every turn. Ruchi’s arc dives into the chaos of urban life and mental health challenges, culminating in a deeply personal crisis. Reshma’s story critiques the superficiality of elite circles, while Abhinaya’s focuses on the complexities of physical intimacy in romantic relationships. Santha’s tale, a tender exploration of aging love, stands out for its warmth and relatability, buoyed by Urvashi’s exceptional performance. 

Anamika’s story takes an interesting, albeit slightly underdeveloped, look at women’s silent struggles, the kind that often go unspoken but are deeply felt. From the stares and passing comments to the everyday intrusions every woman has likely faced, this narrative strikes a chord. The background score does a great job of keeping you hooked, but the storyline felt thin in parts. By the film’s end, it finds its footing, though it doesn’t quite deliver the impact it seems to aim for. Aishwarya Rajesh’s performance was decent, but the character lacked the depth needed to forge a personal connection with the audience.  

Ramya Nambeessan’s Reshma, on the other hand, was a standout. As an influencer juggling a superficial online persona with the reality behind the camera, her character was refreshingly unapologetic, quirky, and well-written without crossing into villainy. While parts of her story felt lifted from real-life social media narratives, it came across more as a filler than a narrative centerpiece.  

The most compelling story, for me, was Urvashi and Prathap Pothen’s. Urvashi’s Santha is a delight, gracefully switching between playful frustration (her banter with Alexa as "Alexey" is hilarious) and poignant emotion. Once again, Urvashi proves why she’s a legend, delivering a performance that lingers long after the credits roll. Paired with Prathap Pothen’s understated brilliance, this segment felt the most balanced and well-written of the anthology.  

Lijomol Jose’s Abhinaya is another well-crafted character. While the premise isn’t entirely groundbreaking, it brings a refreshing perspective to themes of women’s empowerment, physical autonomy, and decision-making. Similarly, Parvathy’s story treads similar ground as the opening narrative, tying them together in the climax. Parvathy masterfully conveys anxiety and inner turmoil, making her performance one of the series' highlights.  

The anthology’s overarching attempt to showcase women’s lives as layered and authentic without leaning too heavily into preachiness is commendable. It’s a step forward for women-centric Malayalam cinema. That said, the execution falters in places. The decision to break the fourth wall in the first and last stories felt unnecessary, pulling viewers out of the narrative rather than enhancing it. While it may have been intended as a commentary on the male gaze, its lack of continuity diluted its impact.  

Though the characters’ lives intersect in meaningful, fleeting ways, the film struggles with disjointed storytelling and missed opportunities to delve deeper into their emotional worlds. Nevertheless, this anthology marks a promising start in reimagining how women’s stories are told in Malayalam cinema, paving the way for bolder, more cohesive explorations in the future.