Still Single In 2025? ‘Simple Manusan’ Explores The Messy Reality Of Love In Malaysia [Review]

Of marriage, money, and Milo with whiskey.

(Comrade Pictures)

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[Mild spoilers ahead.]

It’s not every time I watch a movie and it fully meets my expectations. Simple Manusan did exactly that. I went in expecting a poignant, thought-provoking story about a Malaysian-Indian man searching for love – and that’s exactly what I got, in all its raw and unfiltered glory. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Our main character’s challenges seem simple enough. Simple Manusan tells the story of an unnamed 32-year-old KL barber (Hindravel Bose) whose biggest concern is finding a wife. While part of this desire comes from within, it’s also heavily influenced by his father, friends, and societal norms pushing him toward marriage.

His routine is predictable – splitting time between home, where he lives with his father and sister, his barbershop, where he lepaks with his misfit group of friends, and an endless string of failed attempts at romance.

Whether through matchmakers, blind dates, or dating apps, every effort to find a partner somehow falls apart, often in ways that make for wildly entertaining comedy.

But filmmakers Haran Kaveri and Shobaan take the story deeper.

“Soulmate, love, marriage. These are not the same. Which one do you really desire?”

We wanted to tell the story of a man who, like many of us, believes happiness is just one step away, only to realize that life doesn’t always work the way it should.
Haran and Shobaan.

The movie was so real and raw that it made me slightly uncomfortable, not in a bad way, but in a way where I had no choice but to confront and come to terms with the realities of a man’s experience and how he relates to the women in his life.

It was incredibly insightful in its honesty. As I viewed this man’s journey to find love (and himself) it felt more like a coming-of-age story rather than a rom-com, but it made sense for it to feel that way because our main character never really had the chance to explore his own desires and figure out what he wants in life, until now.

And that is perhaps the scariest part of watching Simple Manusan as a 32-year-old woman – realising that most 32-year-old men out there are probably going through what our main character is going through.

As a woman, it’s frustrating to feel empathy for this man. There were moments where the way he treats the women he goes out with hurt and pissed me off because I’ve been in their shoes before.

But at the same time, it was refreshing to see a side of men that isn’t always visible. A side that gave me insight into why so many men this age still feel lost when it comes to love, and why, as a society – including women – we also play a part in shaping (or stifling) who they become.

“How much money do you make?” vs. “What’s your bra size?”

There is a scene in the film when our main character goes on a date and rather early in the date he gets asked what his salary is. Despite his poker face, we can all feel the frustration and this bleak sense of hopelessness radiating through the screen – kudos to Bose’s remarkable performance.

And he casually throws her back a question, asking her bra size.

Of course, this isn’t a free pass for anyone to remain immature. But the depth of the film can be boiled down to this simple interaction between this man and the woman.

At face value, it may seem like the question he Uno reverses is extremely childish compared to the ‘very valid question’ that she asks. Because after all, it is a man’s job to provide for the woman.

But to a man, asking him about his salary is directly related to his self-worth, identity, and manhood. Much like how questioning a woman about her body is related to her self-worth, identity, and womanhood.

Blurring the lines between dreams and reality

The film intercuts to these mystifying and seemingly out-of-place dream sequences that can throw viewers off at times, but these sequences reminded me of Thai director Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s award-winning film Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives (2010).

The dream sequences were a nice touch to elevate the film, but they also represented the main character’s desire for something beyond his reach – someone that he hasn’t quite figured out yet and never materialises.

The ending of the film was perfect. It’s as if he’s right back where he started. In a stunning POV-style shot, the camera represents us as we follow him with his back turned to us, as if we’re trying to get answers out of him. And as he looks over his shoulder and sees us following him, he starts running – away from us, truth, and reality itself.

Whiskey and Milo, anyone?

Scenes like him getting drunk with his friends at the bar and mixing whiskey with Milo and mutton curry, might leave a bitter taste to some viewers about reinforcing racial stereotypes, but that’s an extremely narrow view of the film.

The characters, their dialect, their surroundings, and their way of life reflect a community that is often underrepresented on screen. These are stories we grew up around, conversations we’ve heard in barbershops, and experiences we’ve seen play out time and again. It was important to us that this world felt authentic and that audiences saw themselves in it.
Haran and Shobaan.

All in all, Simple Manusan delves into the intersection of personal struggles – self-worth, loneliness, and societal pressure – with the broader realities of being a Tamil-speaking Malaysian-Indian man in a working-class job today.

It’s definitely worth your time.