5 years of Trance: Fahadh Faasil, Nazriya Nazim’s misfire on pseudo-prophets that showed how not to make an ‘Everything Everywhere All at Once’ film

Trance, at its core, explores a wide range of themes, from the unsettlingly hypnotic nature of theism — where radical thinking is nearly erased — and the essence of atheism to the commercialisation of religion, the exploitation of human suffering, existentialism, nihilism, the profound effects of mental health struggles and the devastating consequences of substance abuse, among others. But one of the film’s greatest strengths is how it intricately weaves all these into a single character, anchoring them in his mind and psyche, where even the smallest shift triggers significant ripples in the external world. In many ways, Viju Prasad’s (Fahadh) mind serves as a personification of the concept of “Everything Everywhere All at Once”.

While films like PK (2014) and Oh My God! (2012) expose the hollowness of superstitions and pseudo-prophets by telling their stories from the perspective of outsiders who reject such narratives, Trance keeps under the microscope the very factories that manufacture these beliefs. It also examines the skilled representatives who recruit the gullible as customers — in this case, believers — using a range of persuasive tactics. While the said Bollywood films take a more objective approach, infusing their narratives with humour and focusing on only the superficial consequences of challenging massive enterprises that claim to mediate between people and God, Trance goes all in, venturing into the darkest alleys, where beneath the glossy surface, one could still find old, uncleaned bloodstains on the walls and floors.

Revolving around a motivational speaker, Viju, living in Kanyakumari with his younger brother Kunjan (Sreenath Bhasi), who struggles with severe clinical depression, Trance’s first act primarily focuses on the siblings’ lonely and impoverished lives. Despite conducting motivational sessions to help others unlock their potential, Viju is unable to apply these principles to his life, remaining trapped in poverty. After their mother’s suicide when they were still children, Viju took on the responsibility of raising Kunjan, working odd jobs at the cost of their education. The film also makes it evident that their unconventional upbringing left a deep impact on their mental well-being.

Interestingly, Trance, here, critiques the superficiality of motivational speaking through Viju’s journey. It draws a parallel between motivational seminars and religious congregations, with both relying on blind faith in a central figure who is believed to miraculously transform lives. Notably, the primary attendees of “Viju’s Success Juice” sessions are elderly people, mirroring the demographic that later becomes the core audience of Joshua Carlton (the identity Viju adopts as a pastor later). However, despite positioning himself as a guide who helps people realise their hidden potential, Viju fails to prevent Kunjan’s suicide, a tragedy that plunges him deeper into despair.

Haunted by sleeplessness and auditory hallucinations, Viju turns to his brother’s anxiolytics, which heighten his energy but fail to numb his grief. Lost and uncertain, he leaves Kanyakumari for Mumbai. Yet, his struggles persist. In one striking moment, the film shows him through a broken windowpane in his dormitory, sitting under dim light dressed in off-white, visibly dishevelled, mirroring his mental state. Under the influence of his brother’s medication, he appears disoriented and as the camera pulls back, revealing a wider shot of the building, we see trippy purple and yellow decorative lights hanging on the floor above. It is at this moment that the film’s title appears, signalling his slow descent into a trance-like state.

From here, the narrative shifts to explore how an atheist Viju transformed into Pastor Joshua Carlton, a self-proclaimed miracle worker. The film shows how, much like the construction of a “superstar” persona, religious leaders can also be manufactured through strategic image-building. When approached by a corporate firm that wants him to pose as a pastor, Viju is initially hesitant. In one moment — almost as if receiving a sign from the universe — he slips and falls while receiving a phone call with the invitation to meet Solomon Davis (Gautham Vasudev Menon) and Issac Thomas (Chemban Vinod Jose), the heads of the firm. Maybe that was a warning for him. But since observing such ‘signs’ is a privilege reserved for those with choices in life and for someone teetering on the edge of mental collapse and extreme poverty, even noticing them seems impossible, Viju accepts the offer immediately after hearing the financial rewards of the job. A closer look at the conversation between Solomon-Issac and Viju reveals another parallel — just as Joshua later preys on the pain and desperation of his followers to rise in power, Solomon too manipulated Viju by toying with his lifelong suffering, making him feel he has no option but to surrender.

As its title appears, Trance signals Viju Prasad’s slow descent into a trance-like state. (Credit: Facebook/@anwarrasheedentertainment)

Once this transformation begins, the film’s visual tone shifts and the muted, subdued colours give way to brighter hues, while the pacing of the actions accelerates. The editing pattern also changes, with sharp cuts for the shots, creating a sense of artificiality that underscores the staged nature of his newfound identity and the happenings. Trance also deconstructs the imageries it established at the start, showcasing the changing power dynamics. During Viju’s training, Avarachan (Dileesh Pothan) asserts that he is Jesus Christ, while the former is merely a servant. Later, however, Joshua Carlton himself assumes a Christ-like role (besides having the same initials, JC), even symbolically resurrecting on the third day after being assaulted by Solomon and men for defying their control.

While Viju, despite being a certified motivational speaker, could never gather even 50 people at once for his classes, Joshua’s first prayer meeting draws at least 1,500 attendees, highlighting the power of religion and theism as products. Exploiting people’s vulnerability, greed and blind faith, Joshua swiftly climbs the ranks and in his pursuit of power, he loses sight of honesty, integrity and perhaps even his true self. Once too self-conscious to applaud himself aloud — even in private — for fear of seeming ridiculous, and hence resorting to silent claps, he begins to clap for himself openly as success emboldens him. Also, as Trance delves deeper into its themes, we witness Joshua’s gradual descent into something more sinister and the film also exposes how institutions such as his evade accountability by attributing all their actions — both ‘miraculous’ and otherwise — to God, since no one would dare to question them once the divine is invoked. “Miracles are not created, they happen,” he says.

Fahadh Faasil with Gautham Vasudev Menon in Trance. (Credit: IMDb)

As the story unfolds, we encounter more characters and moments that mirror figures and events from the Bible, with the most striking of these being the sex worker Esther Lopez (Nazriya Nazim), who is brought in by Solomon and his men after they assault Joshua — an attack that leaves him trapped in a perpetual psychedelic trance — to determine whether his supposed madness is genuine or an act. However, at this juncture, the film also takes a reductive and misinformed stance on psychotropic drugs, irresponsibly portraying their prolonged use as fatal without considering or acknowledging that certified practitioners decide dosage and duration based on the severity of each person’s condition.

Notably, Esther’s character parallels Mary Magdalene, one of Jesus’ closest followers who witnessed both his crucifixion and resurrection. Interestingly, after being freed from the grip of capitalists and blind believers, it is Esther whom Joshua/Viju sets out to find, culminating in their reunion in Amsterdam where she runs toward him, visually toward the screen, in a fourth-wall-breaking moment. Beyond these biblical references, the film also examines how prophets are created, and often left isolated and powerless, ultimately reduced to mere puppets in the hands of the powerful, with the story of Thommichan (Vinayakan), his wife Sheeba (Amalda Liz) and their daughter and the tragic fate that befalls them because of Joshua and others’ in/actions acting as an eye-opener for Viju.

The allure of the psychological thriller Trance mostly lies in Fahadh Faasil’s performance. (Credit: Facebook/@anwarrasheedentertainment)

The allure of Trance mostly lies in Fahadh Faasil’s performance. A particularly haunting moment that highlights his immense acting prowess is when Viju, early in the movie, finds a letter from Kunjan bidding goodbye. As he picks up his phone to call his little brother, his breathing becomes laboured, perhaps out of fear of what his brother might have done this time. The moment he hears the faint vibration of Kunjan’s phone from the other room, he doesn’t immediately turn toward it, as if, deep down, he already knows the unimaginable has happened. The audience first sees Kunjan’s legs, suspended mid-air, before Viju slowly lifts his gaze to meet his brother’s lifeless face. Fahadh’s masterful control over his expressions is evident in this moment and his refusal to blink while staring at his brother’s lifeless body allows his eyes to gradually redden. By the time he sees Kunjan’s face, tears well up, encapsulating the depth of his grief in a single, devastating moment.

The film is packed with such moments that showcase his exceptional acting skills, made even more impressive by his brilliant handling of the drastic shifts in his character arc, occasionally even bending genre conventions. Equally crucial to the film’s technical brilliance are Anwar Rasheed’s direction, Amal Neerad’s cinematography, Praveen Prabhakar’s editing, Resul Pookutty’s sound design, and the music by Sushin Shyam and Jackson Vijayan. Their combined efforts played a key role in keeping the film afloat amidst criticism from certain factions within the Christian community, particularly those engaged in similar malpractice under the guise of religion and faith.

The characters portrayed by Fahadh Faasil and Nazriya Nazim mirror Jesus Christ and Mary Magdalene. (Credit: Facebook/@anwarrasheedentertainment)

However, the emotional depth that strengthens and elevates the first act starts to fade with the introduction of the first plot point. While the film’s aesthetics and narrative style shift at this stage, the superficiality of the characters begins to negatively impact the overall film. And this becomes particularly evident since, from this point on, the story juggles too many elements and with the characters no longer having emotional grounding, it all feels overwhelming. It is as though the makers are simply bombarding the audience with numerous elements, attempting to create an illusion that the script is thick when, in reality, it lacks substance.

In his effort to incorporate numerous elements, writer Vincent Vadakkan loses sight of the fundamentals of storytelling, such as the precise placement of emotionally charged moments and deeper character development. This ultimately works against the film, diminishing the impact of its themes that deserve deeper discussions. Anwar Rasheed’s visual storytelling, though striking and vibrant, is unable to offset Trance’s narrative shortcomings. With an excess of elements crammed in both visually and narratively, a large portion of Trance feels undercooked, ultimately buckling under the weight of its own overambition.

Cinema cannot exist in a vacuum; it’s all about the discussions that follow. In the Cinema Anatomy column, we delve into the diverse layers and dimensions of films, aiming to uncover deeper meanings and foster continuous discourses.