I wouldn’t have thought of Sookshmadarshini without my first film, Nonsense. The idea came during its post-production in 2018. Nonsense was a one-day road movie with logistical challenges, such as no night shoots, which stretched the schedule and budget. For my next film, I wanted fewer locations, more interiors, and the ability to shoot at night. Sathyan Anthikad’s films like Thalayanamanthram (1990) and Gandhi Nagar 2nd Street (1986) came to mind—they feature tight-knit neighbourhoods and relatable characters, making them timeless. I wondered, what if I set a Hitchcockian mystery in such a world? Imagine the tension and drama of a suspense thriller, but with the warmth and simplicity of Sathyan Anthikad’s setting.

No, we discussed several other treatments before settling on this one. Initially, the story was more linear, but as we delved deeper, we realised the film needed a distinct visual and narrative rhythm to stand out.

The semi-rural neighbourhood was crucial to the story. We wanted the setting to feel familiar yet slightly eerie, striking that fine line between comfort and unease. The ideal location needed to have a sense of intimacy, where the residents know each other well. We scouted for a place with low compound walls and interconnected spaces that conveyed a close-knit community, but finding the right spot wasn’t easy. The biggest challenge was finding a neighbourhood that felt isolated but still connected to a broader community. When we finally found the perfect location, it had everything we needed—charm, familiarity, and a touch of mystery. But even then, adapting the space to fit the film’s needs was a huge challenge. We worked closely with the natural features of the neighbourhood to ensure every corner served the narrative.

While developing the idea, I realised Malayalam cinema needed a unique female detective. If she were a conventional police officer or CBI agent, producers might question why it couldn’t be a man. I wanted her role to be indispensable. The inspiration came from my mother. During the post-production of Nonsense, I noticed her watching a car parked at a neighbour’s house, trying to figure out who they were. I thought—what if such curiosity formed the basis of a female detective in our milieu? But I didn’t want such a character to be stereotypically voyeuristic. I knew I had to frame her actions as empathetic and sharp, not invasive. Later, an incident solidified this idea. One day, while boiling milk, I got distracted, and it overflowed. I cleaned everything, thinking I had erased all traces. But the next day, my mother casually asked if I spilled the milk. I was initially surprised how she noticed it. But what truly stunned me was when she asked, “Did you use the induction cooker?” She had noticed a mark on the centre of the vessel's bottom, which I had forgotten to clean. On a gas stove, similar marks would appear on the side, not the centre. She immediately deduced it was the result of heating on an induction cooker. Then it hit me, it wasn’t voyeurism but an extraordinary level of sharp observation. This became the foundation for Priyadarshini's character.

That was one of the biggest challenges. Priyadarshini had to come across as driven by care and instinct, not nosiness. Her curiosity stems from genuine concern, not voyeurism—she notices Manuel’s odd behaviour and feels something is off. This is where the observational theme helped. Instead of making her a passive onlooker, we gave her a proactive role. She connects the dots through small details—like my mother with the induction cooker. The audience sees her intelligence and empathy rather than judging her actions.

Absolutely. From the earliest drafts, the female characters had prominence, each with detailed backgrounds that influenced their actions, even though these aspects weren’t directly depicted. For example, Asma’s relationship with her husband and Sulu’s personal history subtly shaped their behaviour in the film.

I have to give credit to Sameer ikka for suggesting Nazriya for the role of Priyadarshini. Initially, I hadn’t considered her, but he believed she was the perfect choice. Priya was a layered character—grounded, inquisitive, and relatable, yet capable of carrying the weight of the mystery. Nazriya’s warmth and natural presence made her an ideal match. As for Basil, I initially had doubts about casting him as Manuel. I had always seen him in comic roles, and I wasn’t sure if he could pull off the mix of menace and charm the character needed. But after watching his performance in Jaya Jaya Jaya Jaya Hey (2022), I realised he had the range to portray both the dark and lighter sides of Manuel.

Initially, John was a serious, almost grim character. We had considered several actors, but nothing felt right. It wasn’t until I watched Bramayugam that I realised Sidharth ettan would be perfect. There’s a psycho aspect to John—he enjoys the chaos he’s helping to create. Sidharth ettan brought that twisted charm to life. Once he joined, the character evolved from a straightforward role into something more complex, with quirky, darkly humorous elements. The character's UK background, for example, was improvised on set.

Initially, the character of Priyadarshini's daughter, played by Malootty, had limited scope. However, her performance inspired us to improvise and add more scenes for her. Later, in the editing process, we also trimmed some scenes involving Priyadarshini and her husband to streamline the narrative.

From the outset, we were very particular about making the film family-friendly. We wanted the suspense and emotional tension to take centre stage rather than relying on graphic violence or bloodshed. Hitchcock’s influence was key—he often implied violence, which heightened its impact, like in Psycho (1960). We wanted viewers to feel tension and fear through Manuel’s eerie presence and psychological mind games, rather than excessive brutality.

The first scene was essential for establishing the core dynamics of the story. On one hand, it serves as an introduction to Priyadarshini’s character, showing her as someone who is not just hardworking but also clever and resourceful when it comes to adapting to situations. On the other hand, it gives a glimpse into Manuel’s worldview—how he underestimates those around him, especially the women in the neighbourhood, due to his deeply ingrained patriarchal mindset. More than anything, I wanted this scene to lay the groundwork for the central conflict without being too obvious.