Filmmaker Prabhu Solomon wastes no time pulling us into the world in Sembi. He uses a beautiful song composed by Nivas K Prasanna — whose music plays a very pivotal role — to tell us enough about the world of Sembi, a ten-year-old tribal girl living with her grandmother (Kovai Sarala, who is called ‘ammachi’ by the little one) on a mountaintop in Kodaikanal. The lyrics of that song, Aathi En Mela, written by Prabhu himself, go like this: Neeyae vaanam, neeyae bhoomi, neeyae ulagamadi (You’re my sky, my earth, and my world). Apart from the desolate forestscapes, ammachi and Sembi have only each other; watching her granddaughter achieve her dreams of becoming a doctor is the latter’s only purpose in life.
Ammachi teaches Sembi the art of harvesting honey without disturbing the bees, and minutes later, their world gets torn apart; three young men brutally sexually assault Sembi at the desolate mountaintop. The police get involved, and we learn that one of the boys is the son of the opposition leader of the state (Nanjil Sampath). A series of misfortunate events happen, ammachi fights back, and she is forced to flee with Sembi.
Sembi
Given this information, it’s right for the audience to doubt if this is one of those films that manipulate their emotions for pay-offs. But Sembi is different; Prabhu touches upon a pivotal social issue, and through a powerful story of good vs evil, he strives to give hope to the hopeless and highlights the immediate need for the emancipation of the silenced communities.
As the director revealed in an interview with us, he achieves the above by scaling down all of society to a minibus named ‘Anbu’ (meaning ‘love’), in which ammachi and Sembi plan to escape the authorities. The many new characters inside the bus are distinct in their philosophies, sensibilities, and politics. After his 2016 film Thodari, Prabhu once again uses the Speed formula here, and Anbu cannot stop anywhere. The ‘bomb’ here is the larger political ploy that is happening against the two victims; with state elections inching closer, the leaders of the opposing parties use Sembi’s case to gain votes, and Nanjil’s aid plots many schemes to kill off Sembi and ammachi.
With the case getting sensational every minute, the commuters begin to talk about its many perspectives, and the first thing that one realises from these conversations is that this is a world created by Prabhu Solomon, which doesn’t operate like the real one. The characters here are largely black-and-white; the criminals in this world are pure evil, and they even boast about being pedophiles. But this uni-dimensionality doesn’t necessarily become an issue given that the film makes the intentions of these conversations loud and clear. Sembi reassures us that there is goodness in this world. And in two of the characters inside the bus, Prabhu also tells us that sometimes people can cross over from the other side.
Ashwin Kumar Lakshmikanthan of Cooku With Comali fame plays a lawyer on board the bus and is one of the good ones. Despite appearing to be a bit caricaturish, his character is vital in driving forward what Prabhu strives to tell. Every time the ignorance of the common folk is used against them, Ashwin’s nameless character comes to the rescue. In a noisy atmosphere, he is also the observant one who looks at the little things in life. Now, it would have been great if the character remained to be the one who ignites the flame of compassion among others, but he becomes yet another saviour hero and this becomes a major buzzkill.
This is mainly because Sarala, who was terrific until then and who you had been rooting for from the beginning, takes a complete backseat and Ashwin becomes the frontrunner. The writing too begins to get more gimmicky, and a few scenes here do test our patience. Nevertheless, what keeps you going is the urgency that is consistently built up, the seemingly-powerful antagonists, and the longing to see if and how Sembi gets justice.
The film also unnecessarily adds another layer to the narrative to state that God is the ultimate saviour. While the intent might be honest, it feels jarring in a film that had just told a good story about the good in society, and how people will bind together to fight evil.
Despite all the fumbles, Prabhu manages to leave you with hope. To the vulnerable sections of society, he assures them that they are not alone, and to the rest of us, he asks us to look out for others.
Sembi releases in theatres on December 30
