Sreenivasan: The legendary actor-filmmaker who rejected the beaten path and reshaped Malayalam cinema

Interestingly, Sreenivasan transitioned to writing solely to get an acting job in a movie. After the blockbuster success of his directorial debut Poochakkoru Mookkuthi (1984), a young Priyadarshan was gearing up for his next project. However, there was a catch — although the movie’s shoot was about to begin the next day, he had yet to write the script. Sreenivasan, who played a small role in Poochakkoru Mookkuthi, heard about this project and, seeking a role, approached Priyadarshan. Seeing this as a good opportunity, the director told him the night before the shoot was set to begin that he could act in the film only if he wrote the screenplay, as without it, the movie wouldn’t happen at all. Despite not knowing the basics of screenwriting, Sreenivasan gave it a try as he desperately wanted an acting job. This led to the birth of Odaruthammava Aalariyam (1984), based on a story by Priyadarshan, which became one of the most successful comedies of its time.

From The Archives | Sreenivasan: The star actor-screenwriter whose movies turned Mohanlal and Priyadarshan into legends

While Malayalam cinema has always been known for its realistic, rooted narratives that analyse the different shades of human life in depth, ensuring hard-hitting portrayals, Sreenivasan gave it a fresh twist. He humourised the sufferings, but not in an insensitive or inconsiderate manner. Take Akkare Ninnoru Maran, one of his early screenplays, for instance. From the hardships of unemployment and how classism works even within families to the respect that the Gulf migrants in Kerala began receiving during that era, and the fakeness in people who shamelessly do anything to cosy up to the apparently rich after being extremely cold towards them when they were destitute, Akkare Ninnoru Maran touched upon many themes. The brilliance of Sreenivasan actually lay in how he could present all this through humour. In fact, the scene featuring Ali Koya (played by Sreenivasan himself) coming to meet KP Thankappan Nair (Nedumudi Venu) disguised as a rich Arab could be seen as a microcosm of the movie’s themes and the comedic treatment Sreenivasan introduced.

Sreenivasan transitioned to writing solely to get an acting job in a movie. (Express archive photo)

His biggest strength was his extraordinary sense of humour. He could infuse humour into any moment. Director Sathyan Anthikad’s Gandhinagar 2nd Street (1986) serves as the best example of this. If you think about it, the movie’s core story is quite tragic, and the main characters’ lives are pretty sad. Although Madhavan (Sreenivasan) works at a decent company, he lives in a tiny house with his mother and adult sister, where they all share one common washroom with four other families in the compound. Into this scenario enters Madhavan’s childhood friend Sethu (Mohanlal), who is now unemployed. Although Madhavan is indebted to Sethu and his family, he is not in a position to look after him now. Yet, Sethu tries to latch on to him, as he has no other option and is desperate for a job. Despite knowing well that it won’t pay much, Sethu eventually disguises himself as a Gorkha in a residential colony with Madhavan’s help to find bread and butter. Then there’s Sethu’s ex-girlfriend Maya (Karthika), now a widow, and the local schoolteacher Nirmala (Seema), who is often the target of the locals’ badmouthing. Sreenivasan’s talent was knowing exactly when to get serious and where to slip in comedy. For instance, the initial scenes showing both Madhavan’s and Sethu’s life circumstances, Sethu’s attempts to cling to Madhavan for survival, and Madhavan’s efforts to get rid of him offer a brilliant, humorous glimpse into their lives and personalities.

Mohanlal and Sreenivasan in Ayal Kadha Ezhuthukayanu. (Express archive photo)

One could even say that Sreenivasan, to some extent, managed in Malayalam cinema what the legendary author Vaikom Muhammad Basheer brilliantly accomplished in literature — depicting the lives and woes of ordinary people, including the most mundane and inconsequential events, through humour (especially satire), without losing the intensity required. What made both Basheer and Sreenivasan’s writings far more intriguing was that they were rooted in familiar surroundings rather than idealistic parallel worlds. The problems faced by their characters mirrored the experiences of real people. The happenings and issues in society had a telling effect on their characters as well, thus making their narratives part of Kerala society. Even though Doore Doore Oru Koodu Koottam (1986) was a laugh riot, it was also notable for its socio-political themes, particularly its critique of corruption in the education sector and the othering of schoolchildren belonging to backward communities. As hilarious as TP Balagopalan MA (1986), Mukunthetta Sumitra Vilikkunnu (1988), Vellanakalude Nadu (1988), Varavelpu (1989), and Midhunam (1993) were, they also highlighted the struggles unprivileged people face to survive in a corrupt society where money and power rule all.

Sreenivasan’s protagonists were never superhuman; they were as ordinary and average as anyone could be. Even the nicest among them had their flaws. Nadodikkattu’s (1987) Dasan (Mohanlal) did, as did Vijayan (Sreenivasan). PK Gopalakrishnan (Sreenivasan) in Pavam Pavam Rajakumaran (1990), Raju (Jayaram) in Kankettu (1991), and Brittoli Rajendran (Mukesh) in Sipayi Lahala (1995) were equally ordinary and imperfect. He showed that there was a lot to explore even in the most seemingly uninteresting lives. For instance, the brilliant way he wove Othello syndrome into the story of a printing press owner who leads a very ordinary life in Vadakkunokkiyantram (1989) demonstrated his brilliance as a writer.

Sreenivasan and Mammootty in Oru Maravathoor Kanavu. (Express archive photo)

Though Sandesam (1991) has faced intense criticism over the years for its seemingly apolitical stances, there’s no argument that it remains one of the finest satires in Malayalam cinema, with many of its dialogues finding a place in Kerala’s pop culture. In fact, Sreenivasan was a legend in penning dialogues and one-liners. Need proof? We’re not even going to mention which movies the following lines are from, but we’re certain you will read them in the characters’ voices. Here we go:

“Dasa, oronninum athintethaya samayamund mone.”

“Kadhayude peru, Chirakodinja Kinavukal.”

“Paalu kaachal, kalyanam; Kalyanam, paalu kaachal; Kalyanam, paalu kaachal; ath angottum ingottum idavittu kaanikkanam.”

“Polandine patti nee oru aksharam mindaruth.”

“Njan ee Polytechnicil onnum padichittillallo… Athukondu ee yanthrathinte pravarthanamonnum enikku nishchayamilla.”

“Namukku choich choich povaam.”

“Ippa sheriyakitharam!”

“How many kilometres from Washington DC to Miami Beach?” “I am the answer! Kilometres and kilometres!”

“Ayyo acha pokalle, ayyo acha pokalle…”

“Sadhanam kayyil undo?”

“Start, Action, Cut!”

“Artiste kulathilekku chaadukayaanallo… Appo camerayum oppam chaadatte.”

Sreenivasan and Cochin Haneefa in Azhakiya Ravanan. (Express archive photo)

He also had a unique talent for blending all his skills to bring out the nuances of his characters brilliantly, as evidenced in his directorial ventures Vadakkunokkiyanthram and Chinthavishtayaya Shyamala (1998), as well as in his scripts, including Mazhayethum Munpe (1995), Azhakiya Ravanan (1996), Irattakuttikalude Achan (1997), Ayal Kadha Ezhuthukayanu (1998), Yathrakarude Sradhakku (2002), Udayananu Tharam, Kadha Parayumbol (2007), and Njan Prakashan (2018). He was skilled in extracting the essence of the worlds and characters he created with minimal words. Even though his dialogues seemed too natural to be crafted, they all carried undertones that offered a closer look at the people delivering them.

And the same can be said about Sreenivasan’s performances. As intense and extraordinarily raw as he was, he also communicated a great deal through what he left unsaid. Take Chinthavishtayaya Shyamala, for instance. While he delivered an impactful portrayal, acing both comedic and dramatic moments equally well, Sreenivasan’s mastery of filmmaking and acting lay in what he didn’t communicate directly, leaving it for the audience to grasp by reading between the lines. Even though the movie doesn’t show Vijayan’s attempts to flee from his father Karunan (Thilakan) when the latter arrives, tipped off by Vijayan’s wife Shyamala (Sangita) to confront him for his loafer ways, knowing it’s Sreenivasan, we can easily imagine all the chaotic manoeuvres he would have pulled off in that situation. His performances were never polished or stylised. Instead, one could see a shade of familiarity in every one of his portrayals.

Sangita and Sreenivasan in Chinthavishtayaya Shyamala. (Express archive photo)

Not just in the aforementioned movies, but also in ones such as Panchavadi Palam (1984), Mazha Peyyunnu Maddalam Kottunnu (1986), Chithram (1988), Aryan (1988), Ponmuttayidunna Tharavu (1988), Kudumbapuranam (1989), Artham (1989), Kalikkalam (1990), Aanaval Mothiram (1990), Thalayanamanthram (1990), Nagarangalil Chennu Raparkam (1990), Aakasha Kottayile Sultan (1991), Sadayam (1992), Golanthara Vartha (1993), Pavithram (1994), Manathe Vellitheru (1994), Kalapani (1996), Azhakiya Raavanan (1996), Chandralekha (1997), Guru (1997), Megham (1999), Friends (1999), Angene Oru Avadhikkalathu (1999), Narendran Makan Jayakanthan Vaka (2001), Ishtam (2001), Yes Your Honour (2006), Arabikkatha (2007), Passenger (2009), Aatmakatha (2010), Traffic (2011), Diamond Necklace (2012), Shutter (2012), Thattathin Marayathu (2012), Chirakodinja Kinavukal (2015), Guppy (2016) and Aravindante Athidhikal (2018), he delivered unmatched performances.

Many of his characters had scars on their souls, but he ensured they weren’t visible to all and only to those willing to look beyond the superficial, listen to their inaudible cries for help, and stay back to offer a shoulder to lean on. At a time when savarna ideals dictated men’s beauty standards in cinema, and only those who fit them rose to prominence, Sreenivasan carved out a path for himself, standing as the representative of the common man. He ensured that many like him who aspired to enter the world of cinema and performing arts had someone to look up to as their own role model. Much like his characters, Sreenivasan gave the impression of being the guy next door. That’s probably why his departure feels so personal to many Malayalees.