The humour is intermittently effective, and at times all over the place; there is so much happening on one side, and so little on the other. The context is as unreal as it gets, plenty of opportunities are missed, and grace is far from sight.
What ‘Lilli’ with the double ‘L’ and ‘I’ would probably be remembered for, is the flicker of sure promise that its director Prasobh Vijayan displays. The debutante filmmaker does get all his survival thriller tropes right and crafts a terror climate with great flair, but falters in his choice of a script that thwarts his ambitions.
Fellini’s take on a man wanting to take a final puff and chuck away a long-standing addiction is akin to the first smoke ever; drawing in a bit too much of a cloudy breath and holding it all in for a moment before the anticipated onset of the dreaded cough, throwing out a whole lot than one had bargained for, in spurts and spasms. And when peace is finally regained, the smoke or what is left of it, slowly dissipates into the air around.