Interview Narayaneente Moonnaanmakkal director Sharan Venugopal: The discomfort around intimate scenes was intentional
Sharan Venugopal’s deeply evocative debut feature, Narayaneente Moonnanmakkal, quietly made its mark—stirring emotions, sparking debates, and leaving a lasting impact on its viewers. Since its OTT release, the film’s portrayal of an intimate relationship between cousins has drawn attention—for its depiction and exploration of the theme. However, it has also ignited discussions around taboos, challenging viewers to confront discomfort and rethink societal norms.
While some have drawn parallels with classics like Aalkkoottathil Thaniye and Thinkalaazhcha Nalla Divasam, Sharan remains unfazed. “I wasn’t inspired by them, though they’re great films. If people see similarities, that’s completely fine—it doesn’t take anything away from this film. At the same time, themes like children returning home, three brothers, sibling conflicts, or an unmarried brother are quite common. People have pointed out just a couple of films, but if you look at world cinema, there are plenty of films with similar narratives—where the viewer is placed in a situation that makes them question what’s right or wrong without being preachy,” he asserts.
For Sharan, cinema isn’t about providing answers but encouraging people to see—to sit with unease, question conventions and perhaps discover something deeper in the process. In this candid chat, Sharan reflects on the film’s reception, its open-ended storytelling, and why he believes cinema should spark questions rather than settle them.
Excerpts:
Now that Narayaneente Moonnanmakkal is on OTT, reactions are divided—many appreciate it, while a certain section of the audience is critical. Did you anticipate this response?
When I was conceiving the film, I didn’t think about how people would respond. That wasn’t on my mind at such an early stage. Later, I became aware of it. With a delicate subject, some might accept it, while others might interpret it differently—but I didn’t dwell on that. Every work of art invites different readings, whether or not it tackles a sensitive topic.
There's a lot of debate about whether the film endorses or romanticises relationships between cousins. What's your take on it?
I’ve already said what I wanted to say through the film. Most viewers have understood the relationships, backstories and nuances. If a small section interprets it differently, I respect their views, but I don’t think we need to spoon-feed the intentions. The discomfort around intimate scenes was intentional. They weren’t shot in a romanticised way but in a disorienting manner to evoke that very discomfort. Some argue it would have been fine if Athira (Garggi Ananthan) and Nikhil (Thomas Mathew) were murappennu and muracherukkan (betrothed cousins), but that’s illogical. If it’s wrong, then both are wrong. And if one was okay, then so is the other. This film isn’t about dictating right or wrong—it’s a mirror to society, as all art should be.
If we look at the world around us, we’ll find the answers. Extreme opinions often come from reading films on a superficial level. As viewers, I think we should be more responsible in how we engage with cinema. I’m not saying people need to understand the process of filmmaking before sharing opinions, but a basic level of comprehension as human beings is important. Although there was a lot of noise for a few days, those debates are fading, and I now see more mature readings and varied interpretations.
People who dismiss the film entirely don’t consider where these characters are coming from. On a broader level, this happens in real life too—many of us fail to understand the people around us and rush to criticise without much thought. I believe understanding another human being is a beautiful process. It can open up perspectives that change how we see life. I find it fascinating to observe and understand those around me.
One of the film’s standout scenes is Athira using a butterfly analogy to teach Nikhil about coping with heartbreak. How was this scene crafted?
I've spoken to many people going through similar situations, so the exchanges in that scene are inspired by real life. After writing it, I did have some doubts—wondering if the audience might find it cringeworthy—but I also discussed it with the actors. Ultimately, I was confident because it came from a genuine place, rooted in Athira’s empathy for Nikhil from the moment they first met. And honestly, people have surprised me by sharing reels of this scene as one of their favourites.
Beyond Athira and Nikhil, the narrative challenges cliches—like the complexity of the mother figure, casual shaming among brothers, and the ridicule of those who struggle academically. In an Indian family context, what do you think is the most silent yet dangerous form of toxicity?
The toxicity we see in society probably starts at home. If we analyse it psychologically, we might find connections to what happens within the family. I think that’s the case here too. There’s a lot of toxicity and violence among the three brothers, which points to a parenting issue. The film even states that something is wrong with their upbringing, which isn’t uncommon. In our society, certain forms of toxicity go unquestioned, much like how certain authorities are never challenged.
Different people have interpreted the film’s ending in various ways—some believe the mother has finally breathed her last, others think she has woken up from the coma, and some even have a darker take, like Sethu (Joju George) killing his mother... was the ambiguity intentional?
While writing, I considered both the positive and negative possibilities, including the three interpretations mentioned. I could share my take, but seeing so many different readings brings me a special joy—so I’d rather let the ambiguity remain. That said, it wasn’t ambiguous. Unlike my short film Oru Paathiraa Swapnam Pole, which had intentional ambiguity, here I’ve provided clear clues—through shot design and event placement—to suggest how I envisioned the ending. Of course, those with an optimistic outlook might believe the mother is back, while a more realistic view could lead to different conclusions. Maybe, someday in the future, I’ll share what I truly intended. (smiles)
Another highlight of the film is Rahul Raj's soulful soundtrack, as well as the restrained use of the background score. Unlike the current trend of overpowering music that spoon-feeds emotions, the film embraces silence, allowing moments to breathe naturally…
I had used music sparsely in my earlier short films as well. But when I came to this project, I realized that I needed more than that. While I had musical cues in the screenplay, I also felt that silences were equally important. The sounds of the clock ticking, the footsteps, the rustle of the clothes were all measured and there was a conscious decision not to disturb the silences.
Interestingly, the film is set within a family from the Ezhava caste, unlike setting it within a conventional dominant caste family. This choice makes Bhaskar and Vishwanathan's hypocritical bigotry even more thought-provoking...
One of the first decisions I made while started writing was that the film shouldn't be set in a dominant caste family. I wanted to break away from that conventional setting. Since I don’t belong to this community, I had to do a lot of research. But it wasn’t too difficult, as I have many friends from this community, including some from the same social background shown in the film.
There's an exchange in the film intended to highlight Sethu's secularism when a customer visits his grocery shop and asks for 'Brahmins Curry Powder'. However, some felt that this moment was out of place or didn’t quite fit within the film...
It's certainly a deliberately placed sequence. If you think about it, Sethu has a broader worldview compared to his two brothers—he’s well-read, he has his own political stance, and this kind of branding might have irked him. He made the remark as a joke, but it carries relevance. Even if we argue that we've moved past many social evils, they still persist in different forms.
There has been some criticism about the actors in the film, set in Koyilandi, speaking in different dialects…
From the responses I’ve seen, Suraj's (Venjaramoodu) and Alencier’s dialects were pointed out, while Joju’s was considered the closest. But what I want to say is that it’s not so black and white. It’s not like people in Koyilandi are still collectively saying 'poyikki' and 'vannikki'. If you actually go out and explore rural areas, you’ll notice a mix of dialects—it’s just the reality. I’m from Kozhikode, yet I don’t have that dialect myself.
Suraj Venjaramoodu delivered a great performance as Bhaskar, but some felt he didn’t appear sophisticated enough for someone returning from the UK. Did this ever concern you during casting him?
Bhaskar studied in Kerala until pre-degree and moved abroad when he was around 24 or 25. So the question is—how much could he really change and become a completely different person? I don’t think things like his dialect, the way he speaks English or his level of sophistication are set in stone. It could go either way—maybe he’s someone who never really adapted at all. I personally know people like him, even in the way they speak English, and it has genuinely surprised me. I’ve often wondered how they manage, but it’s not something I see as a big issue.
