In Ronth (meaning “Patrol” in Malayalam), writer-director Shahi Kabir proves yet again why his name has become synonymous with grounded police narratives that interrogate the force not with glorification, but with brutal honesty and introspection. Following his work on Nayattu and Joseph, Kabir returns with a more restrained yet no less resonant exploration of morality within the Indian police system.
Set over the course of a single night shift in Kannur, Ronth centers on two police officers—Sub-Inspector Yohannan (Dileesh Pothan), a world-weary, deeply layered veteran, and Dinanath (Roshan Mathew), a green but sincere junior cop. The pair are assigned a routine patrol, but as they navigate a series of loosely connected incidents—some petty, some tragic—we’re drawn into a richly observed character study that slowly reveals the emotional and ethical toll of their work.
Character-Driven, Not Case-Driven
Unlike many police procedurals that rely on escalating crime or suspenseful whodunits, Ronth is quiet, almost meditative. The drama unfurls through lived-in details: a bribe reluctantly accepted to repair a department vehicle, a drunk priest let off the hook, the visible discomfort of a cop confronted by a suicide. What could have felt episodic instead becomes revelatory, as Kabir uses each event to deepen our understanding of Yohannan and Dinanath—not just as officers, but as flawed men, shaped by trauma and institutional decay.
Dileesh Pothan’s Yohannan is a masterclass in ambiguity. One moment compassionate, the next caustic, his character walks the razor’s edge between protector and perpetrator. Roshan Mathew’s Dinanath is equally compelling, the rookie cop who is both morally outraged and painfully naïve. Their dynamic is the film’s beating heart—equal parts mentor-protégé, father-son, and adversary-confessor.
No Easy Answers, No Clear Heroes
Kabir’s lens is unwavering in its depiction of a morally compromised system. Echoing Training Day (2001) and his own Nayattu (2021), he shows how institutional pressures, personal trauma, and societal inequities entangle even the most well-meaning officers in morally dubious acts. But Ronth is less cynical than Nayattu, more empathetic in its tone, even if it doesn’t shy away from unsettling truths.
Still, Kabir is not without flaws. His scripts often tread dangerously close to softening the very abuses they portray. In Ronth, the killing of a Dalit character as a narrative device—intended to build tension around the case against the protagonists—raises uncomfortable questions. Likewise, while the film attempts to humanize cops through backstories and subtle moments, it sometimes glosses over the systemic power they wield, especially against marginalized communities.
Performances & Craft
Dileesh Pothan delivers what may be his most layered performance yet, embodying both menace and vulnerability. Roshan Mathew balances innocence with inner conflict, creating a believable arc from idealism to disillusionment. Krisha Kurup, as Dinanath’s wife, and Baby Nandhootty, as their daughter, bring warmth to the margins of the story.
Cinematographer Manesh Madhavan’s subdued, moody visuals turn the night streets of Kerala into a character of their own—sometimes oppressive, sometimes eerily calm. Editor Praveen Mangalath ensures a seamless flow between vignettes without ever disrupting the narrative rhythm. The background score is minimal but effective, echoing the film’s commitment to realism.
Final Verdict
Ronth may not be for everyone. Its slow pace, minimal action, and moral greys demand patience and maturity. But for those who stay the course, it offers a rare, textured view into the unseen emotional toll of policing, without ever pandering to jingoism or melodrama.
Though not free from Shahi Kabir’s persistent blind spots—especially in representing caste and institutional bias—Ronth is among the finest Malayalam films of the year so far: a somber, affecting patrol into the night, and into the hearts of men caught between duty and decay.
Ronth is a nuanced, character-driven cop drama that marks another significant step in Shahi Kabir’s journey as a filmmaker deeply attuned to the systemic fractures and moral ambiguity of the police force.
CINEMA SPICE RATING: ★★★★☆ (4/5)