Prakambanam Movie Review: A horror comedy saved by playful chaos

Prakambanam Movie Review

Prakambanam is one of those films that takes a while to reveal what it actually wants to be. It introduces itself as a horror comedy with politics, belief systems and youthful chaos all thrown into the mix. However, for a good stretch, it feels slightly unsure of where to place its weight. The opening scenes in Kannur are set inside an ancestral Hindu home, where a conservative grandmother performs rituals meant to appease the dead while her sons, staunch Communist party workers, look on with open disbelief. The ideological contrast is clear enough, though the humour here is gentle rather than biting, as if the film is still easing itself in.

Director: Vijesh Panathur
Cast: Ganapathi, Sagar Surya, Ameen, Sheethal Joseph, Mallika Sukumaran, PP Kunhikrishnan, Kalabhavan Navas, Azees Nedumangad

The story then shifts to a men’s college hostel in Kochi, where Sidhu (Ganapathi), Punyalan (Sagar Surya) and Shankaran (Ameen) are introduced as final year students enjoying a loud, alcohol-soaked hostel life. There is a familiar comfort to these scenes, with clear echoes of Adi Kapyare Koottamani, including a warden who is oddly supportive and perpetually drunk.

Sidhu is deeply involved in student politics and desperate to finally win the college elections before he graduates. Punyalan, the son of Christian preachers, is romantically involved with Vedika (an effective Sheethal Joseph), while Shankaran floats through with carefree enthusiasm. While this setup is lively, the first half remains hit and miss. Jokes around student politics and Sidhu’s family dynamics do not always land, and the film’s subtle commentary on Kerala’s political culture feels blunter than it should be.

The plot finds its turning point when Sidhu receives news that his grandmother (a superb Mallika Sukumaran) has passed away. The funeral proceedings expose more of the family’s ideological contradictions, with Sidhu’s father showing little interest in the Hindu rituals his mother strictly followed. Sidhu’s bond with his grandmother is explored briefly, and before returning to college, he is entrusted with her ashes by his grandfather (a hilarious PP Kunhikrishnan), who wishes they be taken to Kashi. Embarrassed to carry ashes openly in a hostel, Sidhu transfers them into a small powder bottle and keeps it in his room.

Back at the hostel, things finally begin to spiral. Punyalan, finding the bottle, assumes it contains drugs and snorts it. From this point on, Prakambanam finally locks into its premise. Punyalan begins experiencing strange behavioural shifts, occasionally transforming into Sidhu’s conservative grandmother, complete with moral policing, judgemental rants and old world scoldings. These moments are where the film truly comes alive. The possession angle brings clarity to the humour, and the film suddenly feels far more confident about its absurdity.

A large part of why these sequences work so well is the casting. Sagar Surya is particularly impressive as Punyalan, switching seamlessly between a carefree, halfwit student and a possessed conservative matriarch. His transitions feel spontaneous and genuinely funny, without becoming cartoonish. Ganapathi and Ameen are perfectly cast as Sidhu and Shankaran, particularly in scenes where fear takes over logic. Their reactions feel natural and often funnier than the situations themselves.

That said, some of the humour during these stretches is not without its problems. As Punyalan’s behaviour turns erratic after the possession, the film occasionally flirts with cheap queer-coded jokes. While these moments are clearly meant to underline misunderstanding rather than malice, they still feel dated and uncomfortable.

The second half is noticeably more focused and crisper than the first. Once a paranormal investigator, exorcism and escalating chaos enter the picture, the film fully embraces its identity as a simple horror comedy. Director Vijesh Panathur, in his debut, and writer Sreehari Vadakkan appear self-aware about the film’s ambitions.

Prakambanam never pretends to be smarter or darker than it is. It is predictable, straightforward and largely uninterested in taking itself too seriously. The emotional moments arrive occasionally but exit quickly enough not to derail the tone. Technically, the film holds together well. The editing by Sooraj ES keeps things moving at a decent pace, Alby Antony’s visuals are vibrant, and Bibin Ashok’s music, along with Sankar Sharma’s background score, support both the humour and the horror. Prakambanam is not as consistently funny as Romancham or Adi Kapyare Koottamani. But once it settles into its possessed madness, it becomes an engaging watch.