Maranamass teases the setup of a gripping, killer-centric narrative to shift focus and choose instead to revel in the eccentric world the killer inhabits, where the chaos is just as compelling as the crimes.
A dark comedy set against the backdrop of a sleepy village, Malayalam movie Maranamass ventures boldly into the realm of absurdity. Directed by Shivaprasad and starring Basil Joseph, Rajesh Madhavan, Suresh Krishna, Siju Sunny who wrote the film along with Shivaprasad, Babu Antony and Anishma Anilkumar, the film follows a bizarre convergence of livewire characters, namely a misunderstood misfit, a grieving conductor, a methodical killer, a hot-headed boxer with a punch for petty revenge, and a love-struck veteran driver dreaming of a long-delayed wedding—aboard a night bus bound for mayhem.
Maranamass seems less interested in telling a cohesive story and more focused on generating viral moments—populated with characters who are plucked straight from Instagram meme culture, the kind often mocked or dismissed, repurposed here as exaggerated caricatures built for easy laughs. The film thrives on its idiosyncratic ensemble—from a melancholic conductor in search of his father to a self-proclaimed “sigma male” and a dead body treated with comic reverence. The characters, more than the story, are what animate the film.
Basil Joseph’s portrayal of Luke PP blends comedic swagger with a touch of psychological chaos; while not always pitch-perfect, he tries to keep the madness grounded, and his sheer presence wins enough laughs from an audience willing to forgive the flaws out of fondness. Yet, the character’s supposed “sigma” energy is inconsistently portrayed, sometimes reduced to caricature, aligning with the film’s broader ambition. Rajesh Madhavan’s portrayal of the ‘Banana killer’ is disarming, and his portrayal gives the film a jolt of layered menace wrapped in farce. Despite the exaggerated personalities and situations, there is a sincere affection in how the film treats even its most ridiculous figures. The emotional arcs start strong but often vanish under the film’s desire to entertain. Despite tonal inconsistencies, the cast—including Suresh Krishna, Anishma Anilkumar, and Siju Sunny—infuse vitality into their roles, often grounding the film when the script falters.
The movie weaves its cultural commentary with a mix of sly sarcasm and overt symbolism. Some references are sharply satirical—like the Gen Z schoolkids’ exaggerated reaction to the “sigma male” character’s arrest, cleverly echoing the real-life E Bull Jet incident of 2021, or the playful nod to Thalapathy fanfare. Others are more direct, such as the Swachh Bharat allusion or the ironically named bus Veena Poovu, which trundles through the narrative bearing a party banner that eerily reflects the chaotic inner worlds of its passengers. From erotic novels read by a septuagenarian to his antics as a smooth operator, the film leans heavily into this excess, using overstatement as a stylistic choice to emphasize its absurdist tone—nowhere more evident than in the conductor’s melodramatic longing for a lost-and-found father figure.
Neeraj Ravi’s lens captures the film’s tonal dance—both intimate and grotesque—with an energy that elevates even the most claustrophobic sequences. JK’s score remains mostly in the background, enhancing the quirky atmosphere and occasionally attempting to dominate scenes.
In Maranamass, the humour rarely catches you off guard—it arrives pretty much on schedule—but what keeps it afloat is the sheer absurdity of its world. There’s Luke PP, flanked by a father who looks permanently unimpressed, a friend who says “be a sigma” like it’s a life mantra, and an enthusiastic band of locals who rally at the police station demanding Luke’s release—for reasons far from noble. Add to that a funeral setup in the most unusual of places and a pre-wedding shoot that flirts with the grotesque. Like a few recent releases, Maranamass also dips into nostalgia, hoping to strike a familiar chord, but ends up leaning a bit more heavily.The film feels less like a plot-driven mystery and more like an eccentric collage of incidents stitched together with a thread of chaos. While ambition is evident in the attempt to balance multiple storylines, the film stretches itself too thin, often allowing inconsequential tangents—like a missing dog or a pre wedding photoshoot—to dilute the main arc.
Before Maranamass hit the screens, its promotional blitz—especially the first look of Basil Joseph as a smirking, colour-streaked “sigma male”—sparked real intrigue, diving headfirst into internet masculinity tropes with meme-level flair. A true-crime spoof video, featuring Basil justifying arson for “the greater good,” amped up expectations, teasing a sharp, self-aware parody of toxic masculinity. While the film dabbles in social commentary through its characters’ quirks and obsessions, it never fully commits, leaving its potential for biting satire largely unexplored. It’s a promising directorial debut, though at times the film feels a bit carried away by its own quirks, with the story slightly losing balance under all the wild ideas.
