Bizarre. Hypnotic. "Bramayugam" isn't just a film-it's a folkloric fever dream, a black-and-white incantation that coils around your spine and whispers in the dark. I was glued to my seat from that creepy start right through the "Age of Madness" playing in the post-climax's deranged crescendo. Even now, after leaving the theater, I still feel like I'm hanging out in that eerie Bramayugam mansion, buzzing with all sorts of messed-up feelings. How awesome to see the theater was houseful and that folks are really digging this kind of bonkers movie!
Mammootty doesn't just act here; he transforms. He is Kondamon Potti, a grinning, malevolent force of nature, a masterclass in controlled chaos. With his ever-watchful caretaker (Siddharth Bharathan) and a runaway singer (Arjun Ashokan) crashed at his place, watching their messed-up personalities tangle under that fragile layer of horror? So cool. The mansion breathes, the shadows watch. The film's horror DNA is meticulously stitched, pulling from the chilling atmospheres of classic German Expressionist horror, modern anxieties found in A24's catalogue or Oscilloscope productions, and especially those Hammer films.
Coming to Mammootty, I can't stop praising him. He holds court-a grinning, grotesque puppeteer. His performance isn't acting, it's alchemy. Every smirk, every silence, every flicker of his eyes blurs the line between man and monster. The supporting cast orbits him like doomed moths, their fates etched into the very air, in a ridiculous descent where every composition feels like a cursed etching.
Among Megastar Mammookka's current filmography, it's one of his absolute best, if not the best. His terrifying laughter, the look on his face, his total commitment-this role has no equal, unless we're talking about the 'Devil' himself. He deserves to be up for every single best actor award across the globe. In the finale, Mammootty is so twisted in a battle, lit for a more sinister look, and the camera just statically holds on his face and mouth. In that moment, we, as an audience, feel a whole range of emotions: anger, surprise, a bit of horror, disgust. The final act locks onto his face, and what unfolds isn't just acting-it's possession. All these emotions are clear as day and caught, and it's not for some artsy-fartsy show-off.
Ditching color wasn't just about looks-it was necessary. The monochrome palette strips away distraction, leaving only shadows and pure dread. It's a bold move for Malayalam cinema, and it totally nails the atmosphere, especially with Christo Xavier's killer score and Jayadevan Chakkadath's awesome sound design.
In closing, the pacing is deliberate, the dread is meticulous. But if you just let yourself get swept into its rhythm, the payoff is visceral, grotesque, and unforgettable. A folk-horror opus that doesn't just haunt you-it moves in. I'm excited to see what Rahul Sadasivan conjures up next.
