Can a home stifle and goad its tenants, ultimately coaxing them into homicide? Or does it merely replicate their murderous instincts all alongside? In the current Malayalam release Kala, a home turns into a battleground, weaponized towards the very man it’s named after. In Macbeth adaptation Joji, it’s a tomb inside which a household is doomed to languish till its domineering patriarch dies. In Irul and Aarkkariyam, homes with inviting facades conceal extra sinister interiors and our bodies beneath the floorboards. These Kerala locations and properties double up as crime scenes, symbols of wealth and the discord it will possibly sow, and loss of life traps that slowly snap shut. While the remoteness of those properties is a consequence of real-life Covid protocols, this isolation additionally bleeds into the lives of the characters who inhabit them. The writers and administrators of those movies discuss how they envisioned these places, what the method of discovering them was and why they’re so vital to the environment. 


Home invasion thrillers work as a result of they strike at one’s concern of being attacked the place they really feel the most secure. In Kala, nevertheless, Shaji (Tovino Thomas) feels unsettled in his residence lengthy earlier than the attacker reveals up. While the home is known as after him, it really belongs to his acrimonious father. It’s one other in a protracted line of taunts, reflective of the hole between his lavish ambitions and his meagre present circumstances. Shaji’s lack of management over this property turns into much more obvious when a previous enemy arrives to settle scores. Everyday home items grow to be devices of violence towards him — he will get smothered garments hanging out to dry, strangled with a phone wire and has his again lacerated by a thorny plant.

“The biggest hurdle on this film was the location. We looked at houses 24×7 for a month, going all the way from Wayanad to Kochi to Munnar,” says co-writer and director Rohith VS. He drew on his childhood whereas writing the movie, envisioning Shaji Nivas because the type of home he grew up seeing — an upper-middle class one which mirrored the transitional structure of the late 80s and the early 90s, when Malayalis started including terraces to their properties. It additionally wanted to be remoted from the mainland and seem cramped indoors. “If the house was more spacious, then the characters would have been more relaxed,” he says. Congestion creates drama. That was the environment at my mom’s home.”

The home is so cramped that Shaji (Tovino Thomas), his spouse and son all sleep on the identical mattress.

The home wanted to be at a peak to replicate the financial disparity between Shaji and his nemesis. Plus, it needed to have a sprawling property the place they might interact in a sequence of brutal, bloody battles on dry land, within the muck and in a lake. That final bit got here to Rohith when he noticed a home in Thuravoor that had a “100 percent perfect Tarzan atmosphere”. Two weeks earlier than the shoot started, nevertheless, its homeowners acquired chilly ft and denied him use of the placement. He settled on utilizing the same home close by that didn’t have a yard or a lake. The property that ultimately appeared within the movie was a mixture of 5 totally different places. 

How did Rohith determine what home items he would flip into weapons? “It was all very relatable. Everyone has a banana plant in Kerala so Shaji had to get hit with a bunch of bananas. In fact, I even wanted him to get hit with a pineapple,” he says. 



For formidable patriarch PK Kuttappan (PN Sunny), his sprawling rubber plantation is his kingdom. For his household, it’s a jail, and he, their warden. The sparsely furnished two-storey home displays his miserliness and lack of affection for his household. Every object within the bungalow is utilitarian, not ornamental. Its partitions are naked. There are not any household pictures. The message is obvious — for the dominion to flourish, its ruler should die.

The home and its suffocating environment had been so essential to the plot of Joji, author Syam Pushkaran says he determined to solely begin plotting the movie as soon as a location was discovered. On realizing that a number of movies could be set indoors in the course of the Coronavirus-induced lockdown in Kerala, he needed a home that might stand out. “We wanted a Christian house, but avoided the typical Kerala Christian house with a tiled roof and a mosaic floor. Instead, we looked for a terrace house built between 1995 and 2000. These aren’t too common here,” he says. Another factor he needed to keep away from was wallpaper. “Wallpaper isn’t a thing in Kerala but cinematographers and cameramen add it to houses so the background gets some colour. We deliberately avoided it so we could stand out.” 

Joji (Fahadh Faasil) finds consolation at a pond in his yard.

During their first recce, the staff discovered the home they had been in search of in Erumeli, its remoted location meant to replicate Joji’s (Fahadh Faasil) isolation from his household. The crew changed all of the furnishings with XL-sized variations for instance Kuttappan’s imposing stature. It then took them two months and Rs 15 lakh to construct the pond at which a number of of the movie’s essential scenes are set, together with Joji’s disposal of the proof linked to his father’s homicide. 

“The idea was that Joji, as a child, had a fort at this pond,” says Pushkaran. “Whenever he felt abandoned by his father as a child, he would go there and cry. The pond was a comfort to him. He returns there after the murder to seek comfort.” While the author needed to keep away from “cliche” out of doors pictures of Kerala’s rubber plantations, they seem throughout a second within the movie that illustrates how Joji’s begun to view his  home in a different way.

“After his father’s murder, he’s liberated and so he goes for a jog. It’s then that he realizes that his house isn’t that bad. When he jogs back, it’s like a king returning to his kingdom.”



When Sherley (Parvathy Thiruvothu) and her husband (Sharaf U Dheen) pull as much as her father’s home at evening, it’s bathed in a heat, inviting glow. There’s a brand new mattress for the couple to sink into on the finish of their lengthy drive. There’s an abundance of spiritual iconography on the partitions. There’s additionally a corpse beneath the kitchen ground. 

Co-writer and director Sanu Varughese was impressed by American Beauty (1999) and the concept of an ideal suburban facade that hides darkish secrets and techniques. “That contrast was important because Ittyavira (Biju Menon) is a religious man who murders someone in the belief that what he did was right,” says co-writer and director Sanu Varughese. “He knows the Christian God of the Old Testament would do the same. Unlike the New Testament God who is Jesus Christ, the Old Testament God is a God who kills, a God who destroys.” 

The partitions of Ittyavira’s (Biju Menon) home are plastered with spiritual iconography.

It didn’t take lengthy for Varughese to search out the home he was in search of. The third home he noticed throughout a recce resembled his father’s ancestral residence, a side he was eager on. “These older Kerala houses, even if they’re beautiful, have a new style of construction because the residents feel compelled to extend the facade. I wanted something like that, something very typical of the Malayali mentality,” he says. The five-acre compound’s isolation from the primary highway created an eerily noiseless environment devoid of visitors or cattle sounds. It additionally had a pond and an attic, two parts essential to the script.

Since Varughese is a Syrian Christian and the home he discovered was in Pala, the Catholic coronary heart of Kerala, his subsequent step was to go to a number of homes within the space to determine what spiritual imagery was well-liked there. An picture of St. Sebastian that recurs within the film is a scarier model of how the saint is often depicted. The pond Ittyavira bathes steadily in can be a nod to Catholic rites, a baptism by which he tries to cleanse himself of his previous sins.



The distant home inside which most of Irul is about belongs to a assassin. Is it Alex (Soubin Shahir), who’s satisfied his girlfriend (Darshana Rajendran) to go away her mobile phone at residence and be a part of him for a weekend getaway? Or is it Unni (Fahadh Faasil), who masquerades because the proprietor and opens the door to them, solely to feign indifference as soon as a physique is found within the basement? Packed with knick-knacks and extra theatrical than lifelike, the home looks like the type of fanciful setting a novelist like Alex would envision. Still, it’s Unni, together with his luxurious gown and tinted glasses, who blends in with the environment way more believably. 

“I wanted the house to have a sense of romanticism,” says director Naseef Yusuf Izuddin. “The intent was not to make it creepy. There are candles, there’s a well-stocked bar, all of this creates a welcoming atmosphere. I wanted the audience to feel safe and comfortable. It’s only when the characters go down into the basement that the mood changes.” He additionally envisioned the home as an ancestral property with a Catholic architectural model, reflecting an inherited wealth handed down by means of generations, and showing “trapped in time”. It wanted to have a big front room so the three characters might transfer round freely and converse for lengthy stretches of time, with out the viewers feeling visible fatigue.

Every object in Irul’s was curated to create an atmosphere of wealth, says director Naseef Izuddin.

After a month of looking out, the Irul staff discovered their setting in the course of the distant Pottammal tea property in Kozhikode. They added textured wallpaper, a mini bar and opulent furnishings to create an atmosphere of wealth. Since the home was a single-storey property, Izzuddin set some scenes in a bed room on the bottom ground, then used CGI to make it seem to be the room was on the second ground as a substitute. A staircase in the home, used to attach the 2 flooring within the movie, leads nowhere in actuality. The crew constructed the basement as a set at an deserted tea manufacturing unit 5 minutes away. 

As the viewers tries to determine who the killer is, visible cues trace at shifting views. “The house has an arch in the middle of the hall. So the initial sections of the movie take place on one side of the arch and the characters slowly move underneath it. By the end of the film, they’re on the other side of the arch,” says Izzuddin.

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