Move over 'Hallyu,' the 'Malyu' is here

With their cutting-edge stories and technical virtuosity, the impact of Malayaman New Wave cinema is now being felt outside Kerala

'Hallyu,' as Indian fans of K-pop have recently learnt, is a word that best describes Korean popular culture. Closer home, there's another giant wave that would do well to have a similarly celebratory term coined after it. We are talking about the Malayalam New Wave, the extraordinary swell of boundary-breaking films coming from the cottage industry of Kochi. Move over 'Hallyu,' the 'Malyu' is here.

The impact of 'New Gen' offering, as the movement has been locally dubbed, now resonates well beyond Kerala. In the last few years, a resurgent Malayalam cinema has impressed movie-goers with its diligent delivery of superbly crafted and thought-provoking narratives. Just this year, we have seen director Aashiq Abu's Naaradan, a welcome commentary on dirty newsroom politics, Rahul Sadasivan's trailblazing haunted-house horror Bhoothakaalam and Amal Neerad's mob-ilicious Bheeshma Parvam. Last year was even better—a playground for audiences who enjoy eclectic taste. Director Don Palathara shot Santhoshathinte Onnam Rahasyam with just two characters engrossed in a conversation while driving to a clinic in order to determine whether the woman is pregnant. Though it's not plot-heavy, there's enough baggage in the couple's relationship for audiences to unpack. Dileesh Pothan gave us Joji, a Macbeth reworking set in a Kerala village. The tragedy, tracking the rise of Fahadh Faasil from his family's black sheep to a criminal mastermind, got an endorsement from none other than The New Yorker'sRichard Brody who wrote in his review,"Finally a movie that integrates the pandemic gracefully and intelligently into its story."

By fixing his camera on protagonist Nimisha Sajayan toiling in the kitchen day in, day out, Jeo Baby's The Great Indian Kitchen forced you to rethink the notions of patriarchy and exploitation of women in domestic spaces. Basil Joseph's enjoyable Minnal Murali turned the superhero genre on its head. And then there was Malik, Fahadh Faasil's— one of India's finest young actors and indisputably Malayalam New Wave's hottest property—very own The Godfather turn. Not to mention crossover critical darlings from the previous few years, such as 22 Female Kottayam, Ee.Ma.Yau, Kumbalangi Nights, Sudani from Nigeria, C U Soon, Bangalore Days, Drishyam, Jallikattu, Maheshinte Prathikaaram, Big B, Angamaly Diaries, Trance,Maheshinte Prathikaaram, Kammatti Paadam,Nayattu and so forth.

Pairing rooted storytelling and formula-smashing content with technically brilliant camerawork at par with Hollywood and actors willing to be 'actors' and not stars (the best example is Fahadh Faasil), the New Gen has consolidated the Malayalam industry's position as one of India's most consistently creative powerhouses. The state's cinematic achievements made even its culture-loving chief minister Pinarayi Vijayan proud. After Kerala's 11 National Film Awards haul (including best feature film for superstar Mohanlal's Marakkar: Lion of the Arabian Sea) in 2021, Vijayan had tweeted, "The Malayalam film industry has once again proved that it stands apart at the national level."

Rooted and authentic

How did Malayalam cinema get so good, so soon? According to Basil Joseph, the sought-after director of 2021's Minnal Murali, the New Wave's origins can be traced back to 2011-12, starting with Rajesh Pillai's Traffic, Sameer Thahir's Chaappa Kurishu and Vineeth Sreenivasan's Thattathin Marayathu, to name a few. "The New Gen was always there," argues Joseph, from his home in Kochi. "But people started noticing only recently, especially during the pandemic." He cites the success of OTT (Over-the-top) as a major game-changer for the regional film market. Starring Tovino Thomas and a fresh-faced Femina George, Minnal Murali premiered on Netflix in over 180 countries. "OTT is empowering young filmmakers like me," he says.

Young filmmakers like Joseph, in turn, are enriching global networks with their organic, yet multi-flavoured fare. What makes the New Wave different is their rooted sensibility and technical prowess that remains one of the best in the country (the delicious slickness you see in many Bollywood blockbusters is thanks in no small measure to Kerala's diasporic cinematographers and technicians). In recent decades, films in Marathi, Bengali, Telugu and Tamil have constantly been in the spotlight for their experimental vibrancy and genre-bending content. The Telugu industry, for example, is today better known for its uniquely epic style of filmmaking. An adrenaline-pumping, well-packaged potboiler like S.S Rajamouli's RRR is a case in point. Smaller in scale and perhaps less ostentatious, Malayalam films are, by contrast, designed to appeal to a more discerning set of audiences. Therein lies their allure. It has a seperate fan following, one that is not dependent on mass adulation like their Tamil and Telugu counterparts. "Unlike Bollywood, Malayalam cinema focusses on good storytelling. Everything is in the service of the story and characters and there's no star system save for the occasional Mammootty and Mohanlal tentpoles. The New Wave has no formula. It is a disruptor. It wants to shake things up," opines Reghu Balakrishnan, a Mumbai-based media professional and a devoted fan of his state's rich cinema.

A hybrid model

"We believe in the fact that local is truly global," says Basil Joseph, citing Sudani from Nigeria (2018) as an example. "It's such a simple story about a football player from Sudan and a football manager from Kerala. Their languages are different but what connects them is the struggle, poverty and the loneliness in their lives. Humanity is what speaks beyond language and borders and that's the politics of this movie." In Kerala, he adds, "we are making authentic stories that remain true to the genre, true to our culture, character and emotions." Joseph's own Minnal Murali chronicles the journey of a small-time tailor in a remote Kerala village from an Average Joe to an American-style Superhero, only more rugged and homespun. "Though the superhero is a Hollywood genre I was not influenced by it," Joseph insists. "If anything, I wanted to twist the whole formula. Minnal Murali was original and grounded."

In truth, Minnal Murali is a heady hybrid of Western and Indian ethos. It captures the zeitgeist of 31-year-old Joseph's generation that came of age with a diverse range of influences, both native and international. Joseph talks about growing up watching the films of Malayalam directors like Priyadarsan, K.G George and Jijo Punnoose (whose 1984's My Dear Kuttichathan inspired Minnal Murali) with as much passion as relating his love for Steven Spielberg and Akira Kurosawa. "Mani Ratnam was once asked, 'Why are you the best director in the country?' and he is said to have replied, 'Because Jijo Punnoose is not making films any longer.' Jijo was a visionary. But he wasn't too prolific. While My Dear Kuttichathan was India's first 3D film, Padayottam was the first one to be shot on 70mm. Can you believe this was happening in the 1980s?" Indeed, the current crop—Aashiq Abu, Amal Neerad, Lijo Jose Pellissery, Anjali Menon, Mahesh Narayanan, Rajeev Ravi, Rajesh Pillai, Dileesh Pothan, Syam Pushkaran, Jeo Baby and Anwar Rasheed to name a few—worships Malayalam legends like Adoor Gopalakrishnan, Padmarajan, K.G George, Bharathan and I.V Sasi. But their work is equally informed by the French New Wave, Hollywood and Korean masters.

Few younger directors epitomise that more than Amal Neerad, whose eclectic filmography combines the influence of Hong Kong action spectacles on the one hand and Malayalam crime classics on the other. Yet, speaking to The Established, he modestly excuses himself from being clubbed into the New Wave, making it clear that for him Malayalam cinema's high point will always be the 1980s and early '90s when some "very beautiful films were made" that were "ahead of their time." The director of the recent Mammootty blockbuster Bheeshma Parvam firmly believes that the current movement is merely a continuation of that. "Take K. G George's Yavanika from this period," says Neerad, also an accomplished cinematographer. "It's a brilliant thriller set against the backdrop of a drama troupe while Panchavadi Palam from the same director is a landmark satire on corruption and bureaucracy that is still relevant in today's India." Unassuming to a fault, Neerad adds, "These are great films from the golden age. We have learned from these directors. Our generation has to do better to match up to them."

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