This plodding, meandering film lacks a story, plot, and even convincing acting.
Every once in a while, your reviewer faces a question that leads into an existential crisis. At moments like these, he tends to ponder on the meaningless purpose of mankind, the inevitability of death, and the ruthless nature of life. Ziaullah Khan's Viraam put him in a moment of inescapable darkness.
In the simplest of ways, the story revolves around an ageing, though good-looking, widower Abhiraj Malhotra (Narendra Jha) from Dehradun who offers refuge to a young girl, Maatun, (Urmila Sawant) from Purulia in his house. Soon, she goes from being housekeeper to his love. But the girl is a pawn planted to cheat him of his money. It breaks his heart and Abhiraj dies. Maatun, who has fallen in love with him is now heartbroken. She fulfills his dream, then randomly leaves to never return.
As random and ordinary as the story is, it requires a special talent to stretch it over a period of 2 hours. That credit goes to writer Abdullah Khan and director Ziaullah Khan. Once the opening sequences are set, the film is predictable in its movement, and not very smooth either. There are sequences where the characters' behaviour is devoid of any sense of realism.
For instance, for the pivotal moment of passion that sets the tone between the two leads, Maatun, who is a househelp is shown dressed in a skimpy nightie. How a girl who ran away from home and is seeking refuge at a millionaire's residence managed to find a silk nightie to conveniently seduce her boss is a question that needs be asked.
Also, when she suddenly changes from being the househelp to dressing in very fashionable saris, not one of her co-workers ever notices. If this were not enough, the very bad acting takes a toll on the viewer.
While Narendra Jha manages to bring a semblance of reality to his ageing, widowed businessman who has lost an interest in life, the rest of the cast are terrible. The less said about it, the better.
As for the characterization and story, it is filled with randomness and convenient endings that are beyond the ken of life. In that matter, the film does offer a bit of escapism for the audience. Nowhere in life does any affair conclude with such a seamless transition in property and a familial understanding.
By the time Abhiraj's death arrives, it almost feels like a relief. But the film continues to plot for 15 more minutes before it's actually wound up with a conclusion. A conclusion that seems like an afterthought by the writer, conjured up to meet deadline to submit the script.
In all, Viraam is pretty much what your reviewer wished for his day after watching this film.