Typecast Troubles: Malayalam Cinema’s Talents In Repetitive Roles

ONCE UPON A TIME in Malayalam cinema, we had actors who took the same passageway in all their filmography. There was a “familiarity” that came with their craft, appearances, and characters that surprisingly resonated with the audience. Technically they were “typecast” but for a generation of cinegoers, Oduvil Unnikrishnan, Sankaradi, Innocent, and Mammukoya were household names, reprising similar roles with signature styles. So Oduvil’s Valluvanadan slang and rustic personas, Mammukoya’s heavy Malabar Muslim slang, and Innocent’s comical head-tilt and the heavy Irinjalakuda accent were always ingrained in popular culture. Perhaps the tolerance came from this familiarity and that they were intrinsically good actors. However, today cinema has evolved, along with the audience and that also means they look for more nuance and freshness in storytelling and craft. The critical lens has shifted, prompting actors, filmmakers, and writers to introspect and refine their craft to dodge the danger of stagnation. That brings us to analyse a few actors who have been typecast and perhaps need to break free from that mould.

Interestingly one of his earlier notable roles was a clear indication that Basil Joseph could potentially be stuck in the confused-naïve-sulky boy next door archetype. In Mayanadhi he played a young filmmaker who is coerced into editing scenes, and his childlike charm, humorous undertones, and distinctive dialogue delivery shone. Later on, most of his popular outings followed this pattern, but in variations. Even in his breakthrough role in Joji, as a stiff-necked Jacobite priest who had a bone to pick with Jomon (Baburaj), Basil’s performance never stepped away from the familiar persona. From Palthu Janwar, Pookkalam, Kadina Kadoramee Andakadaham to Ajayante Randam Moshanam, except for the onscreen names, milieus, and characters, Basil’s performances consistently embodied the quintessential coming-of-age boy.

While Altaf Salim successfully cemented his goofy image with his debut in Premam (2015). Unlike Basil’s Altaf’s was more pronounced and it persisted throughout his filmography—be it Fahadh’s bumbling assistant struggling with his Hindi in Pachuvum Adbudha Vilakkum, the comical professor in Premalu or trying out as a lead in Mandakini, there weren’t even the slightest variations in his performances. It can be that filmmakers were charmed by the initial pull of his outings. That cheeky grin, funny dialogue delivery, or the inherent goofiness that he projects have always followed his performances.

When Antony Varghese made his explosive debut as a temperamental young man who indulged in testosterone fights in Angamaly Dairies (2017), it instantly captivated the young crowd. The combination of raw energy, charm, and vulnerability was a lure, but it is also true that his subsequent film choices have reinforced a singular image: the local action hero. The films that came soon after, Swathanthryam Ardharathriyil, Jallikattu, Ajagajantharam, RDX, Chaver to the recent Kondal reveal a pattern, an overreliance on physical altercations. If Jallikattu was with a beast, RDX was him straight up playing a vengeance-thirsty hero out to wreak havoc on those who bruised his family. True, he was convincing, and the punches landed well, but in Kondal, the image seems to have become a constraint. Even as a cameo, Antony is roped into punching the bad guys. If he is not planning to shift gears, it does look like this image will define his career.

True, Nimisha Sajayan made a dream debut in Thondimuthalum Driksakshiyum as a blunt, pragmatic young bride who is determined to retrieve her chain from a thief as well as see him punished. But ever since, her subsequent roles have been weighed down by heavy, intense themes. She has had to do some heavy lifting in most of her films—in Eeda she was in the middle of a strife-ridden Kannur trying to navigate her romance, in Mangalyam Thanthunanena there was trouble in her marital home, a rape survivor in Chola, Malik’s proactive wife in Malik, to a young Dalit cop fighting within the system in Nayattu and a young lawyer in Oru Kuprasidha Payyan. Not that she didn’t deliver, but this pattern also lent a repetitiveness to her performances. The “serious actor” image was constraining her range.

While Grace Antony falls on the other end of the spectrum—she is typecast in loud, eccentric, and quirky roles. Maybe her nuanced portrayal as a young bride struggling to contain her maniacal husband in Kumbalangi Nights might have aided this image. In Thamasha she aggressively markets her products, while Suhara is struggling to navigate her unhappy marriage, Kanakam Kamini Kalaham’s young wife comes with all the idiosyncrasies to match her wayward husband, and in the latest Nunakuzhi, she is temperamental, manipulative, tries to hush up a crime. And of course in Nagendran’s Honeymoons, she embodies everything eccentric and loud as Lily, who scares the daylights out of her groom on their wedding night.

It’s easier to recall when Shane Nigam truly smiled in a film. Or probably showcased a fleeting glimpse of his lighter side. In Kumbalangi Nights, one was so used to seeing the young man in brooding roles that it took a while to wrap our head around the smile. There was a perennial sadness in his eyes, that seemed to have inadvertently influenced the kind of roles that came his way. Irfan who falls in love with a Dalit woman older than him in Kismath somehow left a trail for similar brooding heroes to join the list. Most of his popular characters (Eeda, Parava, Ishq, Bhoothakalam, RDX) carried undertones of pathos and it was increasingly difficult to absorb when he rarely tried to let his hair down (Ullasam, Little Hearts)

With Soubin Shahir, his overreliance on Fort Kochi slang seems to have hindered his versatility. Of course, he can also truly knock your socks off with nuanced performances as the eldest son of a family battling depression in Kumbalangi Nights or a psychotic cop in Ela Veezha Poonchira but at other times if he isn’t playing a goofy comic, Soubin’s craft reveals holes (Trance, Irul, Bheeshma Parvam, Nadikar, Vellari Pattanam). Also, he hasn’t truly explored genres and seems only comfortable in realistic milieus.  He was unable to sell the formidability required in a character like Ajas, who eventually takes over Micheal’s reign in Bheeshma Parvam. Those are areas that show the chinks in his armour. Wonder if the regional slang and comfort zone will mark his career.