'Ronth' to 'Abraham Ozler' and 'Neru': Malayalam Screenwriters on How Their Job Wrote the Film
Cops, doctors and lawyers are scripting Malayalam hits — not fiction, but what they’ve lived through.
In the recently-released Malayalam hit Ronth, a senior police officer explains to his subordinate an eerie truth about the nature of their job. When translated, it means, “For a policeman, the last corpse you see remains in your mind. And when you see another, the image of the new corpse replaces the old one.” This dialogue doesn’t prick the viewer because of the way the actor delivers it or for its inherent pessimism. It hits you because of how matter-of-factly it’s placed in the film as this senior cop gently guides his subordinate. It was written by the film’s director Shahi Kabir, an ex-policeman who has emerged as one of Malayalam cinema’s most valuable writers. Ronth is his second hit as a director and fifth as a screenwriter.
“It’s a dialogue I borrowed directly from my life,” Kabir says, recalling the first instance in which he had seen a corpse. “It was the body of an 81-year-old woman; she died alone in her house, located in the middle of a large rubber estate. Her decomposed body was found six days after her death, and this lean woman had become twice her size as a result. As a part of the inquest, even though there were female officers, I had to help move the body because of its weight. It’s an image I could not shake off for very long.”
A junior police officer then, Shahi speaks of the trauma this event left him with. “I couldn’t think of sex for months. My mind kept recalling the image of the naked corpse. No matter how many times I bathed, I felt the stench of that body on my uniform. And when I asked my senior about what I was going through, he said I would get used to it. He told me I will soon witness far worse, and those events will gradually replace the image of the corpse I’d seen. That dialogue in Ronth was taken from there.”
In the already-realistic cinematic landscape of Malayalam cinema, the entry of working professionals such as Kabir have added an element of authenticity few other movie industries can boast of. This entry has changed the inherent nature of police stories in Malayalam, exchanging a highly-exaggerated brand of super cop movies from the 1990s with a subtler exploration of the greys that make up the life of a regular police officer. According to Kabir, the movie that changed the course of this sub-genre was Dileesh Pothan’s classic Thondimuthalum Driksakshiyum (2017), starring Fahadh Faasil. Set in Kerala’s northernmost Kasaragod district, this hyper-realistic drama traced the events that unfold after a thief is caught and taken to a police station where he swallows a gold chain he snatches off an unsuspecting lady.
“There were as many as 21 real police officers on the sets of Thondimuthalum Driksakshiyum,” confirms director Pothan, as he explains the effort that was put in to create lifelike authenticity for a plot line that was already brimming with dramatic possibility. “There were thousands of questions I’d ask any one of the police officers on my set to create that impact. It could be something about procedures or rules. It could even be about simple day-to-day functioning of the police station. We wanted the audience to feel like they’re watching the film from inside the station.”
Kabir, who was still working in the police force in 2017, was requested by Pothan to work as one of the film’s many assistant directors. “On one day, Rajeev Ravi, the film’s director of photography, called on me abruptly with a doubt. He asked during a shot about where criminals were seated when they were transported in the police jeep. I said criminals have to sit on the left side of the jeep. If they sit on the right, they could strangle the jeep’s driver. That was the logic we applied when we shot the scene too. It’s not that the viewer will find fault if we overlook such details, but that lived-in quality has an immersive power of its own.”
This doesn’t apply to police stories alone in Malayalam. Since COVID-19, doctors and lawyers too have become mainstays in screenwriting. Last year’s medical thriller Abraham Ozler, which went on to become one of the year’s big hits, was written by Dr. Randheer Krishnan, a practising doctor who runs his own hospital in Wayanad, Kerala. It was the first full-fledged screenplay he’d written after a few amateur attempts during his student days. “As a medical professional, one could make out what was missing in our movies, whenever it dealt with the medical field. Apart from factual inaccuracies, most medical thrillers operated at a fictionalised, exaggerated level. Mainstream feature films needn’t become documentaries while pursuing authenticity, but there’s room for a middle ground,” Dr. Krishnan says.
He explains how his other movie subjects too borrow strongly from his expertise as a medical practitioner, dropping hints of another screenplay he has written which is set entirely within the walls of a hospital’s intensive care unit (ICU). “Just like how I may not be able to write a convincing police procedural, a policeman needn’t be able to write a medical thriller. The scope only widens when we write to our strengths, basing it on people and situations we come across on a daily basis in our line of work. Regular screenwriters needn’t have the access or the experiences we do.”
But Dr. Akshay Hareesh, the writer of Sara’s (2021), is quick to make a point or two about how experts also bring about a different kind of thinking into scripts. His debut feature was about a young couple who decide to get married after they have decided to not have children. Besides details, characters and situations, he explains how even socially taboo topics can be addressed by people with his experience. “In cinema, we generally come across notions that overly romanticise motherhood,” he begins. “But as an erstwhile student at the Calicut Medical College, I’ve come across hundreds of pregnancies and all kinds of hardships that they come with. So it wasn’t too far-fetched for me to think of a character like Sara who did not want to have children. Also, as doctors, we bring a certain credibility when we want to make a film that is decidedly pro-choice. I feel people are willing to listen.”
All of their debut features went on to become critical and commercial successes. But as Dr. Krishnan points out, it was also important that all of these working professionals began their careers with some of Malayalam cinema’s top directors. Dr. Krishnan made Abraham Ozler with Midhun Manuel Thomas and Dr. Hareesh wrote Sara’s for Jude Anthany Joseph. Kabir wrote his initial screenplays for experienced directors such as M. Padmakumar (Joseph) and Martin Prakkat (Nayattu). Lawyer-turned-screenwriter Santhi Mayadevi wrote Neru (2023) for Jeethu Joseph and Dr. Neeraj Rajan wrote Dominic And The Ladies’ Purse (2025) for director Gautham Vasudev Menon.
“When we write from our professional experience, we tend to lose sight of the final picture,” says Dr. Krishnan about some of the minuses of this route. “It’s natural for us to go too far into specifics to the point where it can alienate the viewer. Even the way we explain a scene might involve too much exposition. That’s when senior directors come in. They have a grip on how to provide enough information without it becoming too technical or esoteric. Eventually, it needs to be entertaining too.”
As for their reasonably smooth entry, both Dr. Krishnan and Dr. Hareesh talk about the occupational hazards that came their way as they tried to write their second films. Dr. Hareesh says, “During COVID-19, despite work schedules, I think a lot of us were able to find time to work on scripts. The entire process — from ideation to the release of Sara’s — was completed within a year. But as all of us got back to work and things became normal, I found myself struggling to find time to write again. Writing screenplays, at least for me, involves months of focus which can be hard with a full-time job.”
But given the nature of screenwriting, Dr. Hareesh says it’s not fair to complain. “Screenwriting is an unpredictable profession. Only those at the absolute top, with an ability to write at least a film every year, can claim to be living a comfortable life. If I’m able to live comfortably today, it’s only because of my day job as a doctor. At times, I do consider the benefits of working only on my screenplays. But when you come across the practical challenges and the financial conditions, I’m glad I have a regular income to fall back on.”
As for the directors on the other side, they feel even the everyday experiences of lawyers, doctors or policemen make for compelling content. Pothan says, “I think it works out for such professionals in our movies, because of the inherent nature of Malayalam cinema. The films being made here are connected at a deeper level to real life. When professionals from outside share detailed experiences, they find work because our films can accommodate that. Other industries are more commercial, and they work in a more fictional space. That’s the difference we have here.”
Pothan also feels that the Malayalam industry is a lot more accessible and accepting of outsiders. “It’s not too tough to reach someone who works here. If you have an extraordinary idea, you can take it to any filmmaker in Malayalam. Many people call me to narrate scripts, and I might not be able to listen to all, but if someone recommends it, we do listen. That recommendation isn’t tough to achieve. I think it’s these two factors that have helped such writers; that this is a very friendly industry and that the films getting made are grounded in real life. It’s a very healthy sign for an industry when stories from all fields are being made into movies.”
From Uniform to Screen
Dr Neeraj Rajan (Doctor): Dominic And the Ladies’ Purse (A detective story that begins with a
missing purse)
Shahi Kabir (Policeman): Joseph (A grieving policeman is forced to look back at a case after retirement)
Sibi Thomas (Policeman): Kuttavum Shikshayum (A team of officers from Kerala need to travel to Rajasthan to investigate a series of robberies)
Santhi Mayadevi (Lawyer): Neru (A courtroom drama in which a blind girl has to identify her abuser)
Dr. Akshay Hareesh (Doctor): Sara’s (An aspiring filmmaker decides to choose her career over motherhood)
Dr. Randheer Krishnan (Doctor): Abraham Ozler (A series of murders traces back to a bitter past set in a medical college)
