The recently released horror comedy Prakambanam opens in north Kerala, inside a politically divided household where belief and disbelief coexist uneasily, centred around an ageing grandmother whose rituals hold the family together even as others resist them. The film then shifts to a men’s hostel in Kochi, shaped by student politics and casual recklessness. What unfolds is a madcap ride built on contradictions between generations, ideologies, and belief systems.
For director Vijesh Panathur, the film’s origins were far more personal. “It all began with a small joke my wife made, which slowly grew into a full thread,” he recalls. The idea surfaced during a drive back from a funeral near his home. Someone casually mentioned that the deceased had been ill for a long time, before adding that the ashes should be immersed in the Ganga to give peace to the soul. “He said it very seriously,” Vijesh remembers. “This is also someone who does not really go to work or do much in general.” That was when his wife delivered the line that stayed with him. “She said, ‘Ennittu venam atheduthu angerkku thinnaan (So that he can eat it).’ We both burst out laughing.” The image was ridiculous, but it lingered. Eventually, it shaped the film’s central trigger, where Punyalan (Sagar Surya) accidentally snorts the ashes of Sidhu’s (Ganapathi) deceased grandmother, mistaking it for a powdered substance meant to get him high.
Around the same time, Vijesh used to stay at his cousins’ house in Ernakulam, an experience that quietly fed into the film. Although the house had a bedroom with air conditioning, no one ever slept there. Everyone preferred the hall, even without AC. One night, they insisted he take the bedroom. He managed about an hour and a half before being jolted awake by loud prayers from pastors living upstairs. “The next morning, they asked me if I faced any problems,” he says. When he mentioned the prayers, it was brushed off as routine. Only later did they reveal that the room was believed to have a “problem,” which was why no one used it. Across from the house stood a dilapidated building where a death had occurred, widely believed to be possessed.
Initially, Vijesh imagined a single room as the film’s core setting, but the idea didn’t last. “Romancham already had a similar room where everyone lived together. If we had done something like that, it would have felt repetitive,” he explains. Other locations were explored, including an IT park, but none clicked. “Every time we tried different settings, it felt like the idea worked best when it came back to a hostel.” Comparisons, he admits, were inevitable. “Of course, there will be comparisons. We expected that,” he adds, referring to parallels with Adi Kapyare Kootamani and Romancham. “When you place a horror comedy in this kind of setting, such similarities are unavoidable.”
Like his debut Nadikalil Sundari Yamuna, Prakambanam returns to Kannur, a region Vijesh knows well, though he is technically from Panathur in Kasaragod. “If you look at the political background of Kannur, there are still many party villages where situations like the ones shown in the film happen in real life,” he observes. Weddings, funerals, and casual visits became points of observation. “Those everyday moments are what we have used.”
Casting followed the same instinct for authenticity. “Ganapathi is from Payyanur, so he knows the slang well,” Vijesh notes. Sagar Surya’s Punyalan, however, came with more uncertainty. “We considered several actors. Some agreed and later backed out.” The turning point came after watching Sagar play a remorseless villain in Pani. “We wondered what it would be like if he played a character like this after such a cold-blooded role.” Even then, doubt lingered. “He agreed, then changed his mind two days later. After two weeks, he called me and said, ‘Vijesh ettaa, let us do it.’” Only later did Vijesh fully understand why so many actors hesitated. Punyalan required abrupt shifts between a carefree hostel student and the authoritarian demeanour of a dead grandmother, sometimes within the same scene. “They saw it as a huge risk. If it failed, it could seriously affect their careers.” Ameen, cast as Shankaran, was chosen for a simpler reason. “I absolutely love the Kollam slang, which works brilliantly for humour. We needed someone who could pull it off convincingly.”
The grandmother’s role was written with Mallika Sukumaran firmly in mind. “I wanted a character with a strong voice, someone who could dominate the space even without being physically present.” In the film, her presence is largely vocal. Once Punyalan is possessed, it is the grandmother’s voice that takes over his body. “Mallikamma's didn’t initially realise how much dubbing was involved. She thought it was a small role.” When she entered the studio, even she was taken aback. “Her dubbing speed was unbelievable. The precision in lip sync for Sagar was stunning.”
Directing Prakambanam solo, after co-directing Nadikalil Sundari Yamuna, proved liberating. “When two people direct a film, differences of opinion are inevitable.” This time, he could revise scenes even after shooting began. “That freedom to adapt was the biggest advantage.” For now, comedy remains his comfort zone. “My next project is a big-budget, action-packed fantasy comedy.”