Films are made with a range of objectives: some to educate, some to inspire, and some to entertain. But irrespective of this motive, filmmakers knowingly or unknowingly end up incorporating certain elements into their films that reflect the times they live in. In that sense, most films, irrespective of genre (except historical or dystopian ones of course) hold a mirror to the society and can be a marker of the PESTEL (Political, Economic, Social, Technological, Environmental and Legal) situation of the state.
It’s quite interesting to look at the overarching history of Kerala through the lens of Malayalam cinema. The following article is, of course, a drop in the ocean of plausible theories on this.
Through the late 1950s and early 1960s, Kerala was a fledgling new state on the backbone of an agrarian economy with a focus on traditional industries. Hence, many films of that time primarily depicted these livelihoods, including the blockbuster Chemmeen (1965). Moreover, this period saw the rise of communist ideologies after the election of EMS Namboodiripad’s cabinet at the Legislative Assembly in 1957. Subsequently, a bunch of films at the time echoed the sentiments of the working class, emphasizing the need for land reforms, labour rights, etc: Randidangazhi (1957), Bhoomiyile Malakha (1965) and Ningalenne Communistakki (1970) to name a few.
The 1970s saw the onset of the Gulf migration, which caused a marked change in familial dynamics in various households. Malayali men migrating to the Middle East in search of work became a motif or reference across various films starting from this era, the first one arguably being Adoor Gopalakrishnan’s Swayamvaram (1972).
The late 70s was also a hugely uncertain period due to the Emergency (1975-77). While the disillusioned youth of the Hindi-speaking belt found their voices heard through a bonafide hero in Amitabh Bachchan, those in Kerala found their hero in Malayalam cinema’s first angry young man, Jayan, who played working-class protagonists questioning injustice in hit films such as Angadi (1980) and Moorkhan (1980).
You might also like: The ‘70s and ‘80s Malayalam Crime Thrillers Watch List
The early-to-mid 1980s was a period where Kerala’s economic growth had slumped. This led to widespread unemployment among the youth. This is when an up-and-coming writer, by the name of Sreenivasan, made a series of social commentaries that resonated with the masses; films like Gandhinagar 2nd Street, Doore Doore Oru Koodu Koottam, TP Balagopalan MA and Nadodikaattu aptly captured the cluelessness and desperation associated with unemployment. Nadodikattu in particular – though it eventually turns into a crime comedy – is an important cultural phenomenon of this dark period, as its protagonists, Dasan and Vijayan emerged as beacons of hope. The line “Ooronninumnum athindethaya samayamund mone” is iconic even today, but that line must have hit home at a different level within that context!
Another interesting phenomenon of the 1980s is the emergence of pockets of prosperity in the state, fuelled by better education (higher literacy) and remittances from the Gulf. This led to a section of the middle class having disposable income; an audience that sought entertainment in various forms. Coincidentally, this was also when Mohanlal and Mammootty delivered consistently good films. Good films + Sizeable Audience = Commercial Success, which meant that this period was destined to witness the rise of these two young men as Kerala’s first set of quintessential superstars.
Come the 1990s, there is quite some political turbulence, with constant power shifts between the LDF and the UDF, and a truckload of corruption in between. All this resulted in gross public frustration. Some people turned apolitical to the noise (reflected in Sandesham, 1992). Others secretly hoped that a messiah would rescue them from the mess. A saviour did come, albeit an on-screen one that provided moments of temporary catharsis, through fiery dialogue and action. Thus was born Malayalam cinema’s second angry young man in the form of Suresh Gopi, who did a series of films that critiqued centres of power: Ekalavyan (1993), Mafia (1993) and Commissioner (1994).
The 90s was really a cauldron of change, and there are many other angles to look at this era. Consider another example: As mentioned earlier, the early 90s saw a section of the middle class that blossomed. The increased literacy – a fruit born from the Kerala Model – and increased exposure to foreign cultures, created one school of folks with a scientific bent of mind, while a large majority continued to exercise traditional ways of thinking. Inevitably, there were frequent clashes between these schools of thought. A film that deftly addressed this ideological clash is the classic Manichitrathazhu (1991) which pitted myth against medical science. Shobhana’s character, Ganga, is a landmark in Malayalam cinema for treading both these ideologies simultaneously (through her rational self and the enigmatic Nagavalli).
Also read: Manichitrathazhu Is Amazing, But Did It Explore Female Friendships?
Another behavioural facet that has been captured across films in the 90s is the increased consumerist mindset that resulted from the liberalization in 1991. While films leading to liberalization have also portrayed this – for example, Thalayanamanthram (1990) – the tone was more negative (almost blatantly dismissing consumerism as greed). Post-liberalization though, the need for more money is less vilified in films. Films like His Highness Abdullah (1991), Midhunam (1993), Golanthra Vartha (1993) and Chandralekha (1997) have characters going to great lengths in pursuit of a better financial future. Also, we begin to see this change more markedly in younger characters in urban settings. Aniyathipravu (1997), Summer in Bethlehem (1998) and Niram (1999) are all films where the youth spend more and have big dreams. There is, in fact, a song in Sainyam (1993), which has a bunch of chic youths crooning, “We want revolution, friction, we want liberalization!”
With the setup of Technopark in Trivandrum in 1990 and InfoPark in Ernakulam in 2004, Kerala was well-positioned to join the IT revolution. We increasingly saw a higher involvement of technology in film plots during this time, as filmmakers probably understood that tech was the indispensable future and that the audience was more tech-literate than ever. For instance, watch Dekho Simple Magic from Indraprastham (1996) which has a CGI sequence (and a dancing Ikka flexing about the magic of the internet)!
You might also like: Malayalam Movie Tropes From The 90s
Another shift that came with the IT boom was better representation of women in the organized workforce. This change is also reflected in films post-2000, where more films give us a peek into the professional lives of women characters. Meera Jasmine and Bhavana have played a wide range of professions during this period: florist+tourism entrepreneurs in Swapnakoodu (2003), engineer at a construction company in Achuvinte Amma (2003), IT professional in Minnaminnikoottam (2008), bank systems manager in Robinhood (2009) to name a few.
Malayalam cinema has also done a good job of documenting the pace of tech advancements in the 21st century. Take the simple example of a ubiquitous communication device, the telephone. Earlier, we saw this device being an important part of various films’ plots, especially confusion comedies like Ramji Rao Speaking (1989). Fast forward to the 2000s, confusion comedies, the likes of Pulivaal Kalyanam (2004) got more leeway with the advent of a new device – the mobile phone. In 2011, Sameer Thahir used the mobile phone as a proxy for the burgeoning gap between economic classes in Chaapa Kurish: The wealthier Fahad character has an iPhone while Vineeth’s blue-collar worker character has a basic model. The adoption of smartphones, however, was quick in the 2010s, with MNCs bringing affordable variants for cost-sensitive customers. Just 4 years after Chaapa Kurish, we had Oru Vadakkan Selfie, which has a popular gag wherein a Bengali worker nonchalantly claims that only he and Umesh didn’t possess a smartphone in the entire village.
You might also like: Fictional, Memorable Brands and Companies in Malayalam Cinema
The biggest socioeconomic change factors in the last decade have undoubtedly been the successive natural calamities in the form of two years of floods and another two years of the Covid-19 outbreak (and to a lesser extent, Cyclone Okhi and Nipah Virus). While we had disaster-genre films like 2018 (2023) and Virus (2019) that captured this period in dramatic detail, we also had films of various genres touching upon these issues in the backdrop of their actual stories (specifically the Covid era films). While a family comedy like Jo&Jo (2022) captured the mundaneness associated with the lockdown (also how the education system digitally adapted to the times), a more serious drama in the form of Sunny (2021) addressed the crippling mental health situation, claustrophobia and loneliness that resulted from ‘social distancing’. I believe that the films made during the pandemic will be an important resource for cultural studies in future.
Behind every cultural phenomenon, there are seen and unseen factors at play. A lot of the above statements are just exercises in correlation and deduction (because it’s quite a task to conclusively prove causation!). But it would be interesting to look at things in a multidisciplinary way; a Freakonomics-inspired school of thought if you will. So if you enjoyed this piece, feel free to comment your thoughts on the above pointers, and of course, add your own theories!