

In 1966, a story rooted in a fishing hamlet in Keralam sailed beyond its shores to make history.
Ramu Kariat’s ‘Chemmeen’, adapted from Thakazhi Sivasankara Pillai’s novel by the same title, became the first south Indian film to win the National Film Award for Best Feature Film.
With its haunting music, striking coastal imagery and powerful performances, it brought the lives and longings of a fishing community to audiences across the world.
As Kariat’s hometown of Chettuva in Thrissur prepares to celebrate six decades of the iconic film next month, TNIE revisits its making through the memories of those familiar with its production and local community members who witnessed the filming firsthand.
From page to screen
Thakazhi completed the novel ‘Chemmeen’ in 1956, reportedly in just eight days. It became a bestseller, though the author himself dismissed it as a ‘painkili’ (melodramatic) novel. It won the Sahitya Akademi Award the following year, and has since been translated into 30 major Indian and foreign languages.
“Ramu Kariat was among the first to buy a copy of the novel. He recognised the sea as its most important character and saw how its moods could mirror human emotions,” recalls M P Surendran, writer, senior journalist and secretary of the Kerala Sahitya Akademi, who is currently penning a book on the filmmaker.
“Convinced that the story would translate into a visually compelling film, he approached Thakazhi. He refused several times, but finally on the condition that the characters and storyline remain unchanged. That is how the film came to be.”
Set in a fishing community, the story follows Chembankunju (Kottarakkara Sreedharan Nair), whose ambition to own a boat and nets triggers a series of personal and financial conflicts.
His daughter Karuthamma (Sheela) loves Pareekutty (Madhu), the fish trader who lends her father money, but marries Palani (Sathyan). As ambition, love and social customs collide, their lives unravel.
“Ramu Kariat initially wanted to shoot ‘Chemmeen’ along the stretch of coast between Purakkad and Thycal in Alappuzha, where the story is set. However, due to some issues with the locals in Purakkad, he shifted the shoot to Nattika beach, which he knew well,” says Sunil Kumar T S, secretary of Manappuram Sameeksha, which is organising the anniversary celebrations.
“Residents here offered the crew their homes and clothes for the shoot. Some portions were also filmed at Azhikode beach.”
Sunil says the celebrations will honour Kariat’s contribution to Malayalam cinema and the film’s place in the region’s history.
Bringing Thakazhi’s coastal world to the screen required both money and technical expertise. Kariat reportedly paid `8,000 for the film rights, but his attempt to secure financial support from the Kerala Financial Corporation failed. The production eventually received backing from young businessman Babu Ismail Sait, popularly known as Kanmani Babu.
Made on a budget of about `8 lakh, the film reportedly earned close to `40 lakh. Babu later used the earnings to build Kavitha theatre in Ernakulam.
“Babu Sait’s backing helped Kariat bring some of the finest technical talent together for the production. The film had cinematography by Marcus Bartley and U Rajagopal, editing by Hrishikesh Mukherjee and a screenplay by S L Puram Sadanandan. Salil Chowdhury made his debut in south Indian cinema with ‘Chemmeen’, with singers such as Manna Dey and Yesudas lending their voices to its songs,” says Satheesh Kumar Visakhapatnam, a writer who researches cinema and film music.
“Babu’s only wish was that the film should find a lasting place in Malayalam cinema history and be discussed by generations to come. That wish has certainly come true.”
Satheesh, who hails from a neighbouring village, remembers the excitement surrounding the shoot. “I was six or seven years old then.
Public transport was not easily available, but some youngsters were so curious about the filming that they rented bicycles to go and watch the process,” he recalls with a smile.
“They would return and describe what they had seen as if they were recounting the film itself, talking about how handsome Madhu was and how beautiful Sheela looked.”
The film also drew families to theatres at a time when cinema outings were largely dominated by men. “There were no streetlights then, and people had to carry ‘choottu’ (fire torches) to find their way at night. I remember four or five families going together to watch ‘Chemmeen’ after its release,” he says.
P R Karuppan, 91, was among the youngsters who watched the shoot. “We were curious about how films were made and what the actors did between takes. Many of us would go and watch the shooting whenever we had time,” he recalls.
“The crew spent a lot of time near the fishing areas, and villagers helped them whenever they could. Even long after the crew left, the shooting remained a topic of conversation here. The place where Karuthamma’s thatched-roof house once stood has since been swallowed by the sea.”
Tickets cost just 25 paise, recalls local resident K Raghavan. “Watching ‘Chemmeen’ in the theatre was special because we could recognise places from our own surroundings on the screen. We would point them out to one another as the scenes played,” he says.
Behind the camera
The coast shaped much of the film’s visual appeal. Fishing boats cutting across the water, nets spread along the shore and waves breaking against the sand created frames that often resembled paintings. The sequence in which actor Sathyan combats a shark amid swirling waters remains one of the film’s most striking images.
The sea was more than a scenic backdrop. Its vastness and unpredictability echoed the conflicts and emotions of the people living along its shores — a quality Kariat had recognised in Thakazhi’s novel.
Marcus Bartley filmed much of the outdoor footage before leaving to complete another film. U Rajagopal took charge of the remaining cinematography, with both receiving credit for their work.
Beyond the shores
“When it won the President’s gold medal, newspapers reported it as a major milestone. Until then, people in north India often referred to people from the south as ‘Madrasis’. ‘Chemmeen’ introduced many to Keralam and Malayalam,” says Satheesh.
“It was later dubbed into several languages and became the first Malayalam film to be translated into English.”
The film also travelled beyond India, screening at the Cannes and Chicago film festivals. At Chicago, it received a Certificate of Merit, reported to be the first such global honour for a Malayalam film.
The Chicago Sun-Times reported that Barry Stone, a member of the festival staff, recalled how women on the festival’s censor board reacted after watching the film: they “sighed and said it was the most beautiful film they’d ever seen”.
Satheesh also recalls hearing that some foreign viewers believed Kottarakkara Sreedharan Nair might have won an Oscar had the film been made in English.
Music that endures
Salil Chowdhury’s compositions, set to Vayalar Ramavarma’s lyrics, became an integral part of the film’s appeal. Its songs continue to feature in music programmes and household antakshari sessions.
‘Maanasa Maine Varu’, sung by Manna Dey, remains one of the best-known. ‘Kadalinakkare Ponore’, ‘Pennale, Pennale’ and ‘Puthan Valakkare’ also became popular, with K J Yesudas, P Leela, K P Udayabhanu and Shantha P Nair among the other singers featured on the soundtrack.
Recording ‘Maanasa Maine Varu’ required repeated rehearsals as Manna Dey worked on his Malayalam pronunciation.
“Manna Dey and Lata Mangeshkar struggled with Malayalam pronunciation when they came to sing for ‘Chemmeen’. Lata eventually withdrew. Dey too considered leaving the project,” says Satheesh.
“But his Malayali wife, Sulochana, persuaded him to stay by drawing his attention to the beauty of the lyrics, particularly the lines ‘kadalile olavum, karalile mohavum... adangukillomane, adangukilla’ (The waves of the ocean and the desires of the heart will never subside). She helped him work on the pronunciation.”
And like the waves of the ocean and the desires of the heart, Keralam’s affection for ‘Chemmeen’ shows little sign of fading. Six decades on, the film’s music, imagery and poignant tale of love and loss continue to tug at the heartstrings.