Oh, the joy of diving into Madhuri Shekar’s “Evil Eye”, an Audible original that’s like ear candy with its lush sound production and captivating performances. Indeed, the auditory experience is nothing short of a treat — imagine being wrapped in a sonic velvet blanket while navigating a maze of thrilling, yet undercooked narrative twists.
The premise is intriguing enough, with phone calls crisscrossing the globe, filled with warmth, worry, and looming dread, exposing the strained yet affectionate relationship between Usha, a mother whose protective instincts might just be prophetic, and Pallavi, her spirited, independent daughter living in the U.S. The plot thickens, or rather, gets knotted when Pallavi falls for Sandeep, a man who seems too good to be true — perhaps because he is. As Usha’s fears mount, driven by dark past events she can’t let go of, the drama escalates into a psychological showdown that questions whether curses are merely figments of our imagination.
However, the characters, unfortunately, have the depth of a coat of paint. They nearly succeed in making you care through sheer vocal force, each actor pouring their heart into lines that should convey more than the script allows. They struggle valiantly against the confines of a story that plays out in phone calls and voicemails, where the lack of visual cues forces an overreliance on dialogue that can’t quite carry the weight of its ambitions.
To aid in deciphering what’s real and what’s a figment of their imagination, our characters could greatly benefit from a boost in intuition. While a proper Indian mother like Usha might balk at the notion of an Iboga session, several rounds of holotropic breathwork might be just the unconventional therapy to bridge the emotional and perceptual gaps between mother and daughter, deepening their understanding of themselves and each other, and helping them navigate the murky waters of their reality.
And about that sound design — it tries heroically to fill in the blanks during the climax, crashing and banging its way through the chaos, but alas, it only underscores the script’s inability to fully visualize its climax. As sounds attempt to paint the unseen, the narrative’s gaps widen, leaving us guessing and detached.
Apparently, there’s a movie adaptation. Based on the original, one might opt to skip it, unless you’re in the mood for another round of sumptuous auditory treats paired with a narrative that might just embarrass your brain cells. For a production that’s an introduction to Shekar’s work, it leaves us entertained yet somehow underwhelmed, proving that a stunning soundscape can only do so much to elevate a story that doesn’t quite manage to find its footing.
Comments