All said, not everyone will embrace Mollywood Times, as those who believe cinema should primarily inspire hope are unlikely to enjoy its worldview. This is a film that repeatedly argues that talent alone is not enough. Reputation, timing, connections and pure luck often matter more. Sometimes the wrong people win, sometimes originality goes unrewarded and sometimes success arrives for reasons that have little to do with merit. Even when it becomes messy and overindulgent, it remains undeniably sincere. In the end, Mollywood Times may not be as sharp or tightly controlled as Mukundan Unni Associates, but it is bold, provocative and frequently compelling, finding horror not in ghosts but in the price of success.
Science fiction comedies often thrive on unlikely friendships. In Adithyan Chandrashekar's Pluto, that friendship is between a directionless Malayali youth and an alien who turns out to be just as much of a failure on his own planet.
The second half is noticeably more focused and crisper than the first. Once a paranormal investigator, exorcism and escalating chaos enter the picture, the film fully embraces its identity as a simple horror comedy. Director Vijesh Panathur, in his debut, and writer Sreehari Vadakkan appear self-aware about the film’s ambitions. Prakambanam never pretends to be smarter or darker than it is. It is predictable, straightforward and largely uninterested in taking itself too seriously. The emotional moments arrive occasionally but exit quickly enough not to derail the tone. Technically, the film holds together well. The editing by Sooraj ES keeps things moving at a decent pace, Alby Antony’s visuals are vibrant, and Bibin Ashok’s music, along with Sankar Sharma’s background score, support both the humour and the horror. Prakambanam is not as consistently funny as Romancham or Adi Kapyare Koottamani. But once it settles into its possessed madness, it becomes an engaging watch.
That is one of the more astute decisions in the screenplay: understanding someone's motivations is not the same as excusing their actions, and Aasha remains compelling because it makes its protagonist sympathetic without making her blameless.
At times, though, the film seems overly captivated by Varanasi. The city is portrayed as a place of wisdom and healing, bordering on excessive romanticism. Fortunately, Faiz Siddiq's cinematography keeps it grounded; his visuals capture real texture in the ghats, crowded lanes, and riverside life, avoiding the flattening effect of a tourist’s view. It feels lived in rather than just admired from a distance. This film has a slow-burn quality, by design, but it also runs about fifteen to twenty minutes longer than necessary. Some detours don't add much, especially a subplot involving a Tamil association member who initially shows interest in Leela but later becomes overly nosy about her and Madhavan, which contributes little to the story.
Where Madhuvidhu trips is in the serious scenes, as almost every conflict here has a funny side and an emotional side, with the funny side usually working. The emotional side often comes loaded with clichés, loud dialogue and familiar melodrama, with some scenes needing softness but written instead in broad strokes. A late domestic abuse moment, too, though addressed at the end, is handled too casually and could have been written with more responsibility for a 2026 film. Hesham Abdul Wahab gives the film pleasant songs, though they also feel like tunes we have heard from him before in another shape.
All said, Madhuvidhu is watchable. Not consistently good, not particularly fresh, but watchable. A lot of the film stays afloat because of the easy charm at its centre and the strength of some finely judged supporting turns that add warmth and weight. Had the emotional moments landed with more conviction, this would have been a much sweeter ride.
In the end, Patriot is often messy, overlong and not nearly as nuanced as it wants to be. But it is also timely, watchable, and admirably fearless in what it chooses to address, with the much hyped reunion of Mammootty and Mohanlal adding weight without turning into a nostalgia cash grab. Even with its flaws, the film is worth engaging with, as a reminder that privacy, once lost, is not easy to get back...
Fine, none of this is new territory for Malayalam cinema, and dated material by itself is hardly a crime. The problem is Varavu doesn't even try to adapt itself to 2026 sensibilities.
From a technical standpoint, Akhil George’s cinematography is a major plus, capturing Bromance’s youthful vibrancy with a well-thought-out colour palette. The editing by Chaman Chakko ensures that even when the story wobbles, the pace doesn’t. Govind Vasantha’s background score is good but often way too loud, almost yelling at the audience instead of enhancing the moment. Ultimately, this is the kind of film best enjoyed with your close pals in a packed theatre as a no-brainer. Is it flawless? Nope. Is it fun? Absolutely.
In the end, Ithiri Neram lingers as a film that understands the fleeting nature of reconnection and the quiet ache of moving on. Prasanth and Vishak invite us into a world where love does not demand permanence, only honesty, even if that honesty lasts for just a little while.
For all its visual bravado, Lokah is not without shortcomings. The supposed mission that draws Chandra to Bengaluru is introduced with weight but then abandoned almost immediately, replaced by an organ trafficking subplot that feels far too ordinary for a film that opens with visions of fire, myth and apocalypse. In its latter portions, the film leans more on the mechanics of franchise-building than on telling a fully coherent story. The climactic stretch, after so much build-up, arrives in a rush, giving the impression that the narrative has been set aside to clear space for future instalments. What lingers is the sense of a work-in-progress, a world introduced but not yet realised in full. Even so, the experience is unforgettable.
