Kalamkaval (Malayalam)
Spoiler alert: This review contains minor details of the plot
Kalamkaval opens with two lovers revelling in the tender, playful illusion of a new life. But without giving the viewer much time to be hopeful on their behalf, the narrative descends into love’s ugliest distortion – trust becomes bait and tenderness, a gateway for brutality.
Yet, the horror in Kalamkaval extends beyond the killer himself.
His victims are all women, the most convenient targets in a society that abandons them at the slightest whisper of scandal. Isolated and vulnerable, they all perish before they can even blame themselves for yearning to be loved.
Co-written and directed by debutant Jithin K Jose, Kalamkaval looks like a reimagination of the infamous serial killer Cyanide Mohan’s story. The film aspires to unravel a psychopath’s methodical trail. But the drama, unfortunately, is confined to the audacity of its casting choice.
Packaged as a police procedural set in the 2000s, the plot follows Inspector Jayakrishnan (Vinayakan), tasked with investigating a case of communal tension in Kerala. What appears to be the violent aftermath of a Hindu woman eloping with a Muslim man soon draws Jayakrishnan into a web of missing women across Kerala and Tamil Nadu.
Writers Jithin K Jose and Jishnu Sreekumar take a no-frills approach to introducing the killer. We know who the monster is right from the beginning – a man who listens to arrestingly beautiful vintage Tamil songs while he murders his victims. The drama lies in Jayakrishnan catching up to him.
In this effort, Jayakrishnan is joined by Stanley Das (Mammootty), an officer of the Tamil Nadu Crime Branch. Mammootty, on whom the cinematic glory of Kalamkaval rests, delivers effortlessly. Vinayakan gives him tight competition with an assured, emphatic performance.
Several women actors appear on screen, and they all perform well within their limited screen time. Sruthi Ramachandran and Rajisha Vijayan get to make an impact.
Though sexual intimacy is closely tied to the crimes, there is no objectification for titillation. The gore is also understated, a welcome deviation from Malayalam cinema’s recent obsession with carnage, akin to Korean thrillers.
Kalamkaval also steers clear of humanising the killer. There is no sentimental backstory meant to redeem his lost humanity. Mujeeb Majeed’s music catalyses the horror that unfolds in most scenes. Faisal Ali’s cinematography turns dingy lodges and public latrines into death traps for the killer’s victims.
Yet, once the unsettling jolt of the lead casting fades, the thriller begins to feel uneven. Without an airtight cat-and-mouse trajectory driving the narrative, the climactic confrontation lands with far less impact than promised.
It feels as though Kalamkaval, despite the brilliant cast, only skirts the edges, teasing menace without ever committing to it.
It is impossible not to recall the Hindi language web series Dahaad, released in 2023, also inspired by Cyanide Mohan’s story. Created by a women-led team comprising Reema Kagti, Zoya Akhtar, and Ruchika Oberoi, among others, Dahaad portrayed a Dalit woman officer (played by Sonakshi Sinha) investigating the case.
Dahaad was not only able to chronicle violence but also study it as an indictment of the social structures—caste, patriarchy, neglect—that let it thrive. The female gaze on the subject brought clarity on why the killer chooses vulnerable victims like widows, women who live alone, or those struggling to find partners, and how their disappearance hardly matters even to their own families. Kalamkaval never fully engages with that social terrain.
While the extensive runtime of a web series definitely helps add nuance in comparison to a feature film, Kalamkaval is mostly preoccupied with the theatrics of Mammootty and Vinayakan sharing screen space. And when they are caught in a crossfire at a particular plot point, the payoff, though brief, is incredible.
Even when the suspense stumbles, the sheer intensity of the performances is incentive enough to watch Kalamkaval. Above all, it is a film that captures a cinematic legend wholly surrendered to his craft—a performance that, in itself, becomes the film’s most haunting, unforgettable force.
Disclaimer: This review was not paid for or commissioned by anyone associated with the film. Neither TNM nor any of its reviewers have any sort of business relationship with the film’s producers or any other members of its cast and crew.