Malayalam cinema entered 2025 with its chin up. 2024 had stretched the industry beyond limits it once assumed were fixed, and the echo of that success was still in the air. Records had fallen quickly, confidence had hardened into momentum, and expectations grew accordingly. What followed was not a retreat, but something more tangled. A year that revealed how far Malayalam cinema could push itself, and what begins to fray when it does.
If 2024 felt like discovery, 2025 felt like a reckoning. The need to announce itself to the rest of the country was gone. Validation had arrived. What remained were harder, inward-facing questions. How does an industry built on restraint, instinct, and risk behave once scale becomes routine? As Malayalam cinema grew louder and more ambitious, it also began quietly interrogating its own creative bearings, its finances, and the values it was carrying into this phase.
That tension surfaced immediately. January opened on uncertain ground. Identity, a big-budget vehicle headlined by Tovino Thomas and Trisha, arrived with confidence and scale but failed to connect. The disconnect was swift, and the film became an early setback.
Luckily, the mood lifted within days. Rekhachithram, starring Asif Ali and Anaswara Rajan, offered the first sense of stability. Its alternate-history mystery felt assured and playful without leaning on gimmicks.
The film that truly lingered later was Ponman. Jothish Shankar’s debut drew strength from emotional honesty, carried by Basil Joseph’s spectacular turn as PP Ajesh. Still, the opening months remained uneven, with several ambitious projects failing to live up to promise, leaving the early stretch tentative despite these sparks.
Momentum steadied in March, largely through Mohanlal. L2: Empuraan opened to staggering numbers worldwide and briefly looked ready to tear through every record. The run slowed sooner than expected, dulled by mixed reviews and post-release controversies, even as it stood as the highest-grossing Malayalam film of its moment.
The real shift came in April with Thudarum. Tharun Moorthy placed Mohanlal back in a grounded, emotionally rooted space that Malayalam audiences instinctively respond to. The response was immediate. Four months later, the Onam release Hridayapoorvam, his reunion with Sathyan Anthikad, completed the arc with familiar warmth.
Rereleases of Chotta Mumbai and Ravanaprabhu turned routine screenings into jubilant celebrations, with dancing crowds greeting familiar moments like old friends. The year also carried shared pride when Mohanlal received the Dadasaheb Phalke Award, a recognition many felt had been long due. A flat cameo in the Dileep-starrer Bha Bha Ba and the forgettable bilingual Vrusshabha dulled the finish, but they could not erase a year that firmly restored Mohanlal to his rightful place.
If Mohanlal’s run restored belief, Lokah Chapter 1: Chandra rewired ambition. Just months after Empuraan held the crown, Lokah surged past it to become the highest-grossing Malayalam film ever and reportedly the highest-grossing female-led Indian film as well. Produced by Dulquer Salmaan, Dominic Arun’s vampire film launched a five-part fantasy franchise rooted in local myths. Its reworking of the Kalliyamkattu Neeli legend balanced spectacle with storytelling, keeping its cultural grounding intact.
More significantly, Lokah reportedly became the first Malayalam film ever to cross the ₹300-crore mark worldwide from theatrical collections alone. At a time when industry bodies debated losses through narrow monthly figures, this audacious gamble stood as a reminder that Malayalam cinema could still think big, take risks, and expand its imagination without apology.
Beyond tentpoles, the year moved unevenly. February belonged to Kunchacko Boban’s Officer on Duty. April found brief relief in Khalid Rahman-Naslen’s Alappuzha Gymkhana before Thudarum arrived late to storm the box office. May fared better with Padakkalam and Narivetta. August remained sparse, save for Sumathi Valavu.
Year-end figures painted a harsher picture. Industry bodies claimed only a fraction of releases turned profitable. Filmmaker Anuraj Manohar publicly challenged these tallies, pointing out that films like Narivetta, Ponman, and Ronth had made money despite being excluded, exposing a widening gap between lived realities and official arithmetic.
Some films in 2025 refused to be measured by opening weekends or final tallies. They stayed instead, in mood, in memory, in the quiet afterthoughts they provoked. Narayaneente Moonnaanmakkal, Sharan Venugopal’s assured debut, unfolded like a hushed homecoming, tracing the ache of estranged brothers with the texture of lived-in spaces and unspoken regrets.
Shahi Kabir’s Ronth twisted the buddy-cop format into something darker and more uneasy. Much of its weight came once again from Dileesh Pothan’s performance as SI Yohannan, a tired patrol officer carrying years of wear and compromise. He never plays the character as outright harsh. The fatigue, the shortcuts, and the quiet fear slip through naturally, making Yohannan feel human, flawed, and hard-earned rather than heroic.
Akhil Anilkumar's Thalavara, anchored by an excellent Arjun Ashokan, treated insecurity and ambition with gentleness, while Feminichi Fathima turned domestic resistance into quietly radical satire with Shamla Hamza's outstanding turn as Fathima, which won her the Best Actress at the Kerala State Film Awards this year.
Prasanth Vijay's Ithiri Neram lingered through its quiet intimacy, tracing a chance reunion between former lovers with honesty and restraint, with Roshan Mathew and Zarin Shihab carrying the film through silences as much as words.
There was also Victoria, Sivaranjini’s beautiful feminist drama that spoke softly and stayed firm, with an affectingly brilliant performance from Meenakshi Jayan as the titular protagonist.
While 2025 was filled with noise elsewhere, Mammootty began the year in near silence. He was conspicuously absent from the promotional trail of Dominic and the Ladies’ Purse in January and later Bazooka in April, an unusual withdrawal for a star of his stature. Rumours followed swiftly, mostly centred on his health, until his team stepped in during March to clarify that he was simply taking a break.
The quiet lingered. It was only in August that close aides, including producer Anto Joseph, confirmed that Mammootty had made a full recovery, lending weight to months of speculation about his health. In September, on his birthday, Mammootty addressed the pause himself, thanking those who had checked in on him before returning to sets for an ambitious multi-starrer Patriot, which reunites him with Mohanlal.
His return to theatres came with Kalamkaval, where he once again embodied a ruthless serial killer with chilling panache and wicked charm. The film’s strong theatrical run turned it into one of the biggest successes of his career, a reminder that even at 74, Mammootty’s screen presence still arrives with weight and authority.
Some of the year’s most satisfying successes came from patience and form. The Halloween offering Dies Irae trusted restraint over shock. Rahul Sadasivan built dread through stillness and sound, anchored by a measured turn from Pranav Mohanlal.
Later came Eko, the second collaboration between Dinjith Ayyathan and Bahul Ramesh. Set in the late 80s, it unfolded slowly, resisting neat answers in favour of emotional layering. Its patience occasionally tested viewers, but the payoff arrived through mood and feeling rather than sudden jolts.
Sandeep Pradeep’s 2025 felt less like a breakout and more like a careful arrival. He began the year as part of the ensemble in Alappuzha Gymkhana, Khalid Rahman’s relaxed, off-beat sports film that cared more about friendship than glory. As Shifas Ahammed, fondly called Valuthu, Sandeep stood out with an easy physical presence.
He moved closer to the centre with Padakkalam. As Jithin, a soft-spoken engineering student caught in a strange, genre-bending turn, Sandeep revealed control and mischief in equal measure.
By year’s end, Eko sealed the transition. Playing Peyoos, a figure shaped by quiet loyalty and hidden intent, Sandeep navigated multiple emotional shades with confidence. It was the kind of performance that confirmed what the year had been suggesting all along: he was ready to lead.
Some of the year’s best work came from actors who did not demand attention but earned it. Garggi Ananthan was a revelation in Narayaneente Moonaanmakkal. As Aathira, she brought calm wisdom to a story heavy with loss, most memorably in a scene about letting go that captured the film’s emotional core with rare tenderness. Revathy Sharma impressed in her Malayalam debut in Thalavara, playing Sandhya with restraint and agency, never slipping into the familiar rhythms of a passive love interest.
In Dies Irae, Jibin Gopinath stepped out of the margins. His gentle, observant presence made the film’s most unsettling moments quietly terrifying. Anand Manmadhan broke through with Ponman, playing frustration and vulnerability with precision, and followed it up impressively in Ithiri Neram.
Both Biana Momin and Beena R Chandran brought wounded intensity to their portrayals in Eko and Thadavu, respectively, while Riya Shibu charmed her way through Sarvam Maya, turning companionship into something tender and unforced alongside Nivin Pauly.
Legendary ad filmmaker Prakash Varma also emerged as a notable new face of Malayalam cinema in Thudarum as George sir, an antagonist you love to hate, oozing loathsomeness through sheer body language, dialogue delivery and unabashed histrionics.
Alongside the highs, 2025 also had its share of films that arrived with confidence and curiosity, only to drift away without leaving much behind. Pravinkoodu Shappu carried the backing of respected names and an intriguing black-comedy thriller setup. The ambition was clear, but the film never quite found its footing.
There was similar anticipation around Dominic and the Ladies’ Purse, Gautham Vasudev Menon’s first Malayalam directorial venture. Led by Mammootty in an intentionally quirky turn as a private detective, the film stayed afloat largely because of him, even as the narrative struggled to rise above mild curiosity.
Painkili, written by Jithu Madhavan after the success of Aavesham, leaned hard into absurdist romance. Its loudness and tonal chaos, however, kept audiences at a distance. Odum Kuthira Chaadum Kuthira, despite Fahadh Faasil and Kalyani Priyadarshan and the promise of Althaf Salim’s direction, was rejected for similar reasons. The film later found a small, receptive audience post its OTT release, with Lal’s character earning particular affection.
Even Prithviraj Sukumaran's Vilayath Buddha, an adaptation of G R Indugopan’s eponymous novel, fell short of the raw power of its source. Together, these films underlined a recurring lesson: promise alone was never enough.
Streaming in 2025 gave Malayalam storytelling the luxury of time, and some shows used it well. Sambhava Vivaranam Naalara Sangham (The Chronicles of the 4.5 Gang) was the most unruly of the lot. Krishand’s gangster saga refused to glorify its men, instead poking fun at their small ambitions and bruised egos, even as it exposed the politics and violence that trapped them. It was funny, sharp, and quietly angry in places.
Ahammed Khabeer’s Kerala Crime Files returned with a stronger second season, the second chapter in Bahul Ramesh’s animal trilogy, digging deeper into moral grey zones within policing. The mystery mattered, but so did the people carrying it, and the show trusted viewers to sit with discomfort rather than neat answers.
On a lighter note, Vishnu Raghav’s Love Under Construction found its strength in everyday struggles. Building a house, fixing a relationship, dealing with family. It was simple, warm, and observant, reminding us that not every story needs danger to feel real.
December arrived with energy. Kalamkaval set the tone early, but the month soon grew complicated. Dileep’s much-talked-about return Bha Bha Ba followed, riding on curiosity after his acquittal. Beyond a strong opening, helped largely by Mohanlal’s presence, the film struggled to convince, weighed down by dated and controversial humour that blunted any comeback narrative.
The year found better closure with Sarvam Maya. Akhil Sathyan’s gentle horror comedy marked the return of a version of Nivin Pauly audiences had missed for years. Easygoing, warm, and broadly appealing, the film played comfortably to family crowds and ended 2025 on a softer, more reassuring note, a reminder of why viewers once turned up in large numbers just to watch him be himself.
As 2025 draws to a close, it is impossible to look back without pausing for those we lost along the way. The year took from Malayalam cinema some of its most defining voices and presences: filmmaker Shaji N Karun, singer P Jayachandran, filmmaker Shafi, actor Kalabhavan Navas, art director K Shekhar, and, most profoundly, writer-actor Sreenivasan. With his passing, an era quietly came to an end.
On to the next one, with hope...
Best of 2025 (in the order of release date)
Rekhachithram
Ponman
Narayaneente Moonnaanmakkal
Thudarum
Ronth
Lokah Chapter 1: Chandra
Feminichi Fathima
Dies Irae
Eko
Kalamkaval
Honourable mentions: Thalavara, Victoria, Sarvam Maya