10 years of Nivin Pauly and Sai Pallavi’s Premam: Unpacking the ‘second film in the history of world cinema with nothing fresh’

Unlike Neram, Premam wasn’t written in a non-linear format. The events unfolded more or less chronologically, with occasional flashbacks. However, it was far from a conventional screenplay. Adopting a style akin to elliptical storytelling and following an episodic structure, Alphonse narrated different stages in the life of George David (Nivin Pauly), focusing particularly on his romantic interests — one in each phase, with not all of them turning into full-fledged or lasting relationships — that shaped him. The screenplay offered something distinct and stood out even on paper.

Instead of following the conventional style of showing the thank-you cards against a black screen and in silence, Alphonse cleverly inserted a calming visual of a butterfly fluttering around, searching for nectar from flowers. Given that nectaring is often used as a metaphor for finding love (with subtle sexual innuendos), this visual — with the camera also fluttering — immediately followed by the title Premam (Love), effectively set the stage for what was to come. With composer Rajesh Murugesan’s sleek and catchy track “Ithu Puthan Kalam”, penned by Shabareesh Varma and sung by both of them, playing in the background, the audience could effortlessly slip into the world of the film.

By beginning the story in medias res, Alphonse also broke away from the typical template of Malayalam films in the coming-of-age and romance genres. Although the movie opens with a card stating, “1984: A baby boy, George, was born to David and Tresa,” it immediately cuts to a random point in his late teens. Interestingly, the narrative doesn’t begin at the start of any particular event, not even when he first meets Mary (Anupama Parameswaran), his romantic interest of that era. By the time we are introduced to George, he has already fallen hard for her. Instead, Premam drops us into an ordinary day in 2000, when he is already busy writing her a love letter. Breaking the fourth wall, George looks directly at the audience and playfully mimics Mammootty as he says, “My love for you is genuine, Mary.” In this very first scene itself, the writer-director not only establishes George’s goofy and inattentive nature but also sets the tone for the rest of the film.

Even as the movie progresses, Premam does not serve too many lovey-dovey moments. Instead, it adopts a slice-of-life tone and takes the audience on a fun journey with George and his two friends, Koya (Krishna Shankar) and Shambu (Shabareesh Varma), as he tries different methods to win Mary’s heart. Unlike typical romance films, where measured, often poetic dialogues are delivered by characters in love, the lines spoken in Premam mostly sound unscripted and natural. With constant chatter filling the frame, Alphonse ensured the scenes felt lively and relatable.

Interestingly, in this part of the movie, we mostly see close-to-mid shots, emphasising how small the world of these kids is and how their focus is limited to just a few things that bring them happiness. For George — and many late teens in that area — their only aim in life is to woo the local beauty, Mary. For Koya and Shambu, it’s all about the three of them being together. By allowing the actors to follow their instincts with the dialogues, Alphonse ensured the scenes didn’t appear artificial.

Although many of the moments featured in this part of the film were fresh to mainstream Malayalam cinema, they were simply drawn straight from everyday life. A perfect example is the scene where Shambu receives a call from George just as he is about to attend to his physical needs after fetching an adult magazine, and is interrupted by a kid at his home who tries to snatch the magazine as he desperately tries to hide it while talking on the phone. Another major advantage the film enjoys here is that nearly all the jokes and one-liners, particularly the back-and-forth between Girirajan Kozhi (Sharaf U Dheen) and Jahangir (Althaf Salim), land effectively. Adding to all this is the inclusion of the track “Aluva Puzhayude”, which had already become a hit by then, featuring enticing visuals and an extremely adorable Nivin at the centre, ensuring the audiences are thoroughly hooked.

Although many of the moments featured in Premam were fresh to mainstream Malayalam cinema, they were simply drawn straight from everyday life. (Credit: Facebook)

But once the movie enters its next phase, set in 2005 when the central trio is in college, Premam hits top gear and drifts into a strikingly different territory. The once-cute George has now metamorphosed into a hypermasculine, fearless figure. Often seen in a shirt and mundu, flaunting his thick moustache and beard, and fully embracing the ‘complete Malayali man’ image, he crashes into the hearts of the audience by literally bursting a bomb cracker.

Soon after this segment opens with an iconic dialogue from Rajamanikyam (2005), we see George, Koya and Shambu disrupting a college event, which leads to a group fight that they and their friends easily win. Set against the high-octane “Kalippu” track and taking place on a ground soaked with muddy water, the scene not only gave the audience goosebumps but also impressed with the film’s sharp tonal shift. By leaping suddenly from a feel-good atmosphere into another world — one that taps directly into the target audience’s fondness for action sequences and their obsession with the ‘complete Malayali man’ — Alphonse masterfully crafted his own formula for commercial cinema.

Watch Malare song from Premam here:

Although the industry has produced far too many movies set in colleges, Premam managed to stand out. By focusing on seemingly mundane moments and transforming them into engaging scenes, blending equal parts of comedy and hypermasculinity, the filmmaker offered a fresh view of campus life. Unlike most mainstream Malayalam campus films, where students engage in stock activities and everything revolves around the male protagonist, Alphonse showed that George’s world remained small, with only a few close friends, while an expansive world existed outside it. This is exemplified brilliantly in how the film parallelly follows both George and Vimal (Vinay Forrt), a lecturer at the college, vying for the attention of the same woman, Malar (Sai Pallavi), who has joined as a guest lecturer.

Once she enters the scene, Sai Pallavi joins Nivin in owning the film. With her extraordinary screen presence and stunning chemistry with him, they elevate the movie to a whole new level. Unlike the first phase, where everybody around knew George had an eye for Mary, the romance here unfolds away from the public eye, with only Koya and Shambu in the know. Even though George usually instils fear in others with his perpetually brooding expression, he transforms into a pookie around her, vying for her glances and attention.

Although George’s friends point out the differences between him and Malar, such as their age gap, language barrier (since she’s Tamil), and the fact that he’s her student, Premam avoids delving unnecessarily into these, even when such conflicts could have been convenient plot devices. Featuring only very ordinary moments that are elevated through clever staging and execution, Premam proved that filmmakers don’t always need to follow conventional rules and that things can turn out beautifully when they trust their instincts and heart.

Another major strength of the film lies in its exceptional music and thoughtful placement of songs. Rather than relying on them for quick narrative advancement, Alphonse uses them to emphasise emotions and enhance the film’s mood. “Malare”, sung by Vijay Yesudas, one of the most celebrated Malayalam playback songs of the decade, not only illuminated George and Malar’s hidden-in-plain-sight love but also highlighted the beauty of simplicity and restraint, something sorely missing from many films of that time. The addition of a perfectly choreographed number like “Rockaankuthu” ensured the film offered a complete cinematic experience.

This phase of Premam didn’t just brim with romance, it also featured one of the most brilliant depictions of heartbreak in Malayalam cinema when George’s brave face is stripped away and the hypermasculine image he had built crumbles as he bursts into tears, melting into the arms of his friends upon realising he’s lost Malar forever. The way this scene was (re)created and performed by Naga Chaitanya in the Telugu remake, which was nothing short of amateurish, highlights the brilliance of Alphonse’s direction and editing, and Nivin’s performance.

Premam was Nivin Pauly and Alphonse Puthren’s second film together. (Credit: Facebook)

In its third and final phase, Premam presents a more mature George, who is no longer the angry young man he was in college. Now running a café in Kochi, he carries the pain of lost love but has moved on, blending his earlier fun personality with a more grown-up nature. Koya and Shambu remain his closest friends, and they still meet regularly. It is here that he meets Celine (Madonna Sebastian), who is related to Mary, and falls for her. However, by the time he confesses his feelings, her marriage has already been arranged. This leads to George’s third heartbreak. The way Alphonse crafted George’s character arc and emotional growth here is commendable. This is especially visible in the mature way George handles her initial rejection. Nonetheless, the two end up together eventually; third time’s the charm.

Premam was not without its flaws. From its celebration of ragging and hypermasculinity to its relegation of the women to mere love interests in George’s story, the film had its share of issues. However, Alphonse’s masterful use of the most mundane elements and experiences from ordinary life — elevated to extraordinary heights by an exceptionally brilliant Nivin Pauly and the incomparable Sai Pallavi, supported by a talented ensemble — fortified Premam as one of the most celebrated Malayalam films of the 2010s. The movie was not only a blockbuster success but also came close to surpassing Jeethu Joseph and Mohanlal’s Drishyam (2013) at the box office. It might have taken the top spot of that era had its pirated version not leaked online. Nonetheless, Premam remains a benchmark in the careers of Nivin Pauly, Sai Pallavi and Alphonse Puthren, and in the landscape of Malayalam cinema itself.

Cinema cannot exist in a vacuum; it’s all about the discussions that follow. In the Cinema Anatomy column, we delve into the diverse layers and dimensions of films, aiming to uncover deeper meanings and foster continuous discourses.