Thudarum rolled out to massive applause, with the audience praising its cinematography, powerful background score and most notably, the return of Lalettan, the complete actor. But beyond its packaging as a thriller family dramedy, the movie touches upon a deeply relevant topic — honour killings. While it delivers surface-level thrills, Thudarum also weaves together issues like police brutality, abuse of power, and the media’s role in manufacturing false narratives. Tharun Moorthy excels in treating these heavy themes with care, creating a vivid and disturbing portrayal of honour killing that lingers long after the credits roll. What’s even more remarkable is how the film redefines the way honour killing is usually portrayed on screen.
What is an “Honour Killing”?
Britannica defines honour killing (also called shame killing) as “most often, the murder of a woman or girl by male family members”. The justification lies in claiming that the victim has dishonoured the family’s name or prestige. Women are often the targets due to the patriarchal emphasis on a woman’s virginity and “sexual” purity. If a woman marries or elopes with someone of a different caste, religion, or ethnicity, it is seen as tarnishing family honour — something male members are expected to avenge. The act is intended not just as punishment, but as a warning to other women against rebelling against the family’s wishes.
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The Disturbing Numbers Behind Honour Killings
According to the National Crime Record Bureau (NCRB), the number of honour killings reported in India stood at 25 cases in 2020, 33 in 2021 and 18 in 2022. However, these numbers are widely acknowledged to be severely underreported. Kerala’s Ministry of Home Affairs reported 4 honour killings between 2017 and 2021. A study published in the International Research Journal of Social Sciences focused on women in Punjab — a state with a high frequency of such crimes — noted that accurate data remains elusive. The study analysed 100 honour killing cases and revealed that 41% involved only the female victim, 47% involved both male and female victims, and 12% involved only the male victim.
While women are predominantly the victims, the reality that men are also killed in the name of honour remains vastly underreported and poorly discussed.
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How Did Thudarum Redefine the Trope?
Unlike the typical portrayal of honour killings in Malayalam cinema, where women are the usual victims, Thudarum takes a different route. What begins as a simple crime thriller slowly peels back its layers to reveal the painful truths behind Pavi Shanmugham’s death. What initially feels like a revenge crime thriller transforms into something deeper and more harrowing. As Benz seeks answers, both Benz and the audience are left reeling with one overwhelming question: why?
The revelation — dropped only in the final moments — is that Pavi was the victim of an honour killing. The brilliance of Thudarum lies in how it delivers the unexpected. It breaks through the expectations and assumptions of the audience. Until the very end, the thought of honour killing does not cross the mind of the audience. It is at this point that Thudarum drives home this often-ignored aspect of men as victims of honour killing. It forces a rethinking of honour-based violence, detaching it from the concept of female sexual purity and showing it instead as an act of controlling anyone who steps out of line.
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Thudarum is not the first Malayalam movie to depict men as victims of honour killing. In Paappan (2022), Bennitta, an upper-caste woman, watches her lover Simon — a lower-caste man — brutally killed and burnt, with the blame pinned on him to ensure her arranged marriage goes ahead. Bennitta eventually avenges Simon by secretly killing those responsible. Similarly in Bheeshma Paravam (2022), a woman named Pauly approaches Michael after her son Prince was burnt to death by his girlfriend Elsa’s high-caste family. Again in Bheeshma Paravam, you have Ami murdered to prevent his inter-faith marriage with Rachel. Another example is the movie Kismath (2016) which follows the story of an inter-caste, inter-faith couple where the tragic climax suggests that Irfan was killed by his own family who opposed their relationship.
But the above movies have used the male victims of honour killings as fleeting references, implied and ambiguous ideas or a means to drive the plot forward. References to the honour killing of men in these movies felt fleeting and half-baked. But Thudarum depicts this topic as the core idea of the movie serving as the perfect jigsaw puzzle that completes the plot of the movie. Furthermore, to the current generation where being politically woke is the norm, the movie is able to recognise the finer points of honour killing of men and weave them to present a compelling storyline. A part of the political wokeness is the need for labelling. Labelling is a powerful and social act that allows people to name their experiences. Labels make the invisible visible. The movie boldly labels the murder of Pavi as honour killing and even substantiates it with evidence, leading to greater awareness and sensitivity surrounding the social evil that extends beyond gender.
The film ends with a chilling statistic on honour killing: though an estimated 50,000 honour killing cases occur annually, only 25–30 are registered, and of those, merely about 5 are solved. The rest are quietly buried, forgotten by a society that refuses to confront them.
Tharun Moorthy masterfully builds this narrative, layering it through character attitudes, family dynamics, and silent societal pressures, making the underlying horrors of honour killing painfully obvious. It is only at the end that the true gravity of Pavi’s death hits, making the message all the more powerful.
Exploring Honour Killings in Malayalam Cinema
Honour killing has been a trope in Malayalam films for decades, though often implicitly. Recent years, however, have seen more direct explorations, mostly focusing on women victims.
In Puzhu (2022), caste pride leads to tragedy. Kuttan, a retired IPS officer, murders his sister Bharati. Anweshippin Kandethum (2024) features the story of retired constable Raveendran Nair, who kills Sreedevi, a lower-caste woman in love with his son, to protect the family’s honour. Sookshamdarshini (2024) presents an even broader angle — honour killing driven by sexual orientation. Diana, a lesbian living in New Zealand, is lured back to India and murdered by her own family, who view her sexuality as a disgrace.
Earlier films like Kaattu Thulasi (1965) and Picnic (1975) also tackled honour killing, portraying rural women killed for eloping with men from the city, but with far less nuance.
Relevance to Recent Cases from Kerala
Thudarum’s depiction of honour killing resonates strongly with real-life tragedies like the murders of Kevin P. Joseph and Aneesh. Kevin, a Dalit Christian man, was abducted and killed in 2018 by his fiancée’s family for daring to marry across caste lines. Aneesh was brutally murdered in 2020 because of his relationship with a woman from a higher caste. Both cases reflect how caste pride, social status, and the obsession with family honour still drive brutal acts of violence in Kerala.
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Thudarum redefines honour killing by showing that honour-based violence is not restricted to women, rather it targets anyone who defies oppressive social hierarchies.
