35 (2024) Review

10-year-old Arun (Arundev Pothula) can't make sense of "zero". It's a baffling concept for him. How can an entity that signifies nothing somehow affect the value of another number? His mother, Saraswathi (Nivetha Thomas), usually so adept at parrying Arun's doubts, finds herself stumped. Zero haunts his Math scorecard, a reminder of his refusal to grapple with what he can't intuitively grasp - until a stern Math teacher (Priyadarshi) steps in and forces him to confront the subject.

In "35", Math is the lens through which director Nandi Kishore Emani delves into human relationships. There's the fraught dynamic between Arun's parents, Saraswathi and Prasad (Vishwadev Rachakonda), who clash over how best to deal with Arun's disregard for math. And Saraswathi's shaky confidence at having failed 10th class herself. There's Arun's loneliness at being demoted, and being targeted by Chanakya Sir. And big life lessons about friendship and family that Arun learns when he vandalizes Chanakya Sir's bike and gets punished for it.

The film's authentic tone is its crown jewel. Set in Tirupathi, an intimate portrayal of a middle-class religious family is visible in every inch of the frame and heard in every sound-byte. Saraswathi's domestic rituals - cooking fresh curries and sweets, smiling over the stove, offering her children samples - are so familiar that they will make you smile and reminisce. While her husband reminisces about a superior version of these dishes made by relatives in that stereotypical husband way.

Indeed, the portrayal of an Indian household - the working father; the multi-tasking mother who keeps the peace in the house and is the family's linchpin; the children navigating their own little world at the school - captures the endearing quality of family life. Small, telling details, like the plump kid who perpetually dozes in the background of every classroom scene, or the diligent kid who reads math books even during a school trip to the beach, are a testament to Emani's attention to detail. Of particular delight is Arun's younger brother, Varun (Abhay Shankar), and his habit of flinging open his shirt at every chance he gets. Emani's subtle infusions of character quirks brings his somewhat run-of-the-mill story alive in interesting ways.

Math becomes a punchline in several moments, such as when Arun, puzzled after being told that a negative multiplied by a negative equals a positive, wonders if another year of failure might actually promote him. Yet, Emani's storytelling is commendable for turning mathematical confusion into meaningful narrative. Arun's long-standing struggle with the concept of zero finds its resolution through a poignant, if somewhat sentimental, scene where his classmates rally around him.

35 retains a charming heart to the very end, rarely resorting to commercial storytelling shortcuts. The closest it comes to having a villain is with Chanakya's character - the epitome of the evil math teacher. He calls kids by their math score, touting math as a way of separating the smart kids from the fools. His reaction to discovering that Arun's best friend, Pavan, has a perfect score - he subsequently attempts to drive a wedge between them - adds a sinister note.

Priyadarshi is convincingly dour as the joyless math teacher, looming tall over his fifth-grade students and hurling chalk at the troublemakers. The children themselves are a lively, entertaining bunch. Their antics - scheming in bathroom stalls, goofing off in class - are portrayed with a delightful realism. Arundev Pothula who plays Arun (reminiscent of the child in Taare Zameen Par) brings a compelling curiosity and emotional depth. His younger brother provides a lively counterpoint, while Kiran Mayi, Arun's bossy, playful bestie played by Ananya, bring a whole lot of spunk.

But the film's emotional core is in Nivetha's exceptional performance as Arun's devoted mother. In a wrenching scene where she reunites with Arun after a harrowing event, the camera captures the spectrum of her relief, anger and joy with a raw honesty as she simultaneously chastises and hugs her son. Her Tirupathi accent is particularly a joy to listen to. And her magnetic screen presence overshadows the somewhat flat performance of Vishwadev Rachakonda, who plays her husband.

35 falters with a sluggish third act and a finale that fails to deliver its full impact. Most of the clever metaphors run dry, leaving the story to rely on sentimentality alone. Yet, as the father's favorite refrain goes, "chinna katha kadhu". The film's genuine characters and meticulous attention to detail - which carries through in Vivek Sagar's playfully evocative score too - celebrate a kind of human-scale story-telling that avoids heavy-handed critiques of educational systems or math teachers. In this respect especially, 35 earns its place on this year's notable films, scoring not just pass marks, but a distinction.