One of the biggest issues plaguing our movies, particularly actioners and thrillers, is that directors are more focused on proving they are smarter and more creative than the audience rather than on making solid, well-rooted films. In the case of actioners, filmmakers are busy trying to come up with fresh stunt moves or more elaborate torture techniques that are gorier than previous similar outings — with the most recent example being the upcoming Dhurandhar and director Aditya Dhar’s desperate attempt to imply in the trailer that the movie will be more violent than Animal (2023), Kill (2023), or Marco (2024) — as if their aim is solely to earn the title of “India’s most violent film ever.” Directors seem to believe that this is the formula for enticing the audience and that the masses will accept these films if they simply make them more violent.In the case of thrillers, writers and directors often seem desperately trying to pack their movies with twists that they are (at least initially) sure the audience won’t figure out before the actual reveals; a recent example of this is Mirage (2025). However, both strategies are rather reductionist towards viewers. Instead of focusing on creating engaging, well-made films, directors are in a race to outsmart the audience, ultimately producing movies that fail to impress them because they do not resonate.Don’t Miss | Vilayath Buddha movie review: Prithviraj Sukumaran film shows why not everything shot should make the final cutAnd it’s his lack of interest, at least so far, in playing such a game to prove that he’s better than others that makes writer Bahul Ramesh a trailblazer. Although his screenplays are also marked by their suspenseful elements, it’s not in them that his stories are anchored. The twists merely help elevate the expansive and intricate world he has already built or provide the audience, already immersed in the layered story, with an extra dose of adrenaline. His latest mystery drama, Eko, not only demonstrates the impact of an impeccable script but also showcases how far a visionary director can translate the written text visually — something Dinjith Ayyathan has managed brilliantly here by capturing the soul of the work. Eko is also a masterclass in creating an atmospheric, immersive movie where the makers’ aim is simply to offer the best experience to the audience, rather than competing with themselves or the viewers.In a way, Eko can be seen as a retelling of director Adoor Gopalakrishnan’s Vidheyan (1994). What would have happened if Thommy (MR Gopakumar) had decided to make efforts to break free from Bhaskara Pattelar’s (Mammootty) chains much earlier, instead of waiting for his master’s death to finally run away with the manacles? What if Thommy had chosen to become the master of his own fate, rather than remaining servile to his cruel and cold-blooded employer who had exploited him for so long? The Thommy-like character in Eko, nonetheless, goes ahead and does what the real Thommy couldn’t. But does that offer absolute freedom? Well, that’s the question that lingered in my mind after watching Eko. Biana Momin as Soyi aka Mlaathi Chedathi; Sim Zhi Fei (R) as young Soyi in Eko. (Screenshot: YouTube/Muzik247)Set in an unspecified bygone era, Eko analyses, politicises, and problematises the idea of “protection” in a deep yet highly engaging manner. Kuriachan (Saurabh Sachdeva), a widely renowned dog trainer, is not your typical hero or villain. Once the credits roll, you may ask yourself: Who was he actually? What was he? Is anything that we heard or ‘saw’ about him the truth? Or were they just fragments of others’ interpretations of Kuriachan, differing in shade based on their opinion of him? Bahul never really provides an answer. Yet, the tagline makes one thing clear: this is just one chapter from the “infinite chronicles of Kuriachan,” implying that his biography can’t be condensed into a single chapter. Considering that the police, Maoists, a lorry driver (Binu Pappu), his cleaner (Renjit Shekar), a local man named Paappachan (Saheer Mohammed), and even an ex-Navy officer (Narain) are all on the lookout for him, it’s evident that Kuriachan’s life was both incidental and significant.Atop a hill in Kaattukunnu, with no other houses or settlements nearby and the closest hamlet located far down the slope, lives Kuriachan’s elderly partner, referred to by all as Mlaathi Chedathi (Biana Momin). Originally hailing from Malaysia, she migrated to Kaattukunnu with Kuriachan years ago. But is she legally his wife? We don’t know. However, one thing is clear: all those searching for Kuriachan, ever since he went into hiding a few years ago, have converged around Kaattukunnu. Although he has other partners/wives in different parts of Kerala, the ‘hunters’ believe that the only place from which they can find answers is Kaattukunnu and Mlaathi. So, is she his loyal confidant? Not exactly. Yet, Kuriachan’s friend-turned-foe Mohan Pothan (Vineeth) attests during a heated moment that Mlaathi is the only one among his partners who would ‘protect’ him, as she is thankful to him for ‘saving her life’ back in Malaysia, bringing her to Kerala and giving her a new lease on life.Story continues below this ad Sandeep Pradeep in Eko. (Screenshot: YouTube/Muzik247)Following his disappearance, Kuriachan and Mlaathi’s kids employ a young man, Peeyoos (Sandeep Pradeep), to take care of her. A seemingly do-gooder who gives the impression that there is not a single thought behind those eyes, he slowly becomes the one whom all of Kuriachan’s rivals approach for information. But there’s only so much even he knows. Although Mlaathi is fond of him, she never drinks even a glass of water from his hand without first testing it by giving it to insects like ants, underscoring the lack of trust and love between the characters.Although Peeyoos was employed by Mlaathi’s kids to ensure her protection, her real security comes from the dog brigade that lives around her home. They create such a formidable barrier that anyone who even thinks of approaching the house will find themselves in a moment akin to the “Konjam angge paaru kanna” scene from Rajinikanth’s Baashha (1995). In fact, it is through these dogs that Bahul and Dinjith convey the essence of Eko. The dogs are not just mere protectors around Mlaathi’s house; doghood is also presented as a mindset characterised by extreme and violent obedience towards their master. It’s not just the dogs who display this subservience. Peeyoos and the local jeep driver, Appootty (Ashokan), also exhibit a certain docility. At one point, Mohan Pothan asserts that Kuriachan knows how to manipulate people into doing what he wants without them realising they are serving him, proving that he is not only a skilled canine trainer but also a skilled human trainer.Nonetheless, whose story are we supposed to trust? Every person on screen has something to hide or a selfish reason to be there. So how can we trust any of them? Vineeth plays Mohan Pothan in Eko. (Screenshot: YouTube/Muzik247)At the heart of this doghood is the protection it offers. Even while living in Malaysia decades ago, Mlaathi (whose original name is later revealed as Soyi) lived under the ‘protection’ of her husband Yosiah’s dogs. Kuriachan and Mohan were two dog experts who arrived in their country seeking a peculiar pure breed of a local dog that’s far more protective and obedient than any other. Although Eko initially suggests that Soyi (played in the flashback scenes by Sim Zhi Fei) coexisted with the dogs, it becomes evident after her husband’s death that the canines were like a barbed wire fence, one even she can’t cross. When she tries to step outside her home, one of the dogs bites her cruelly, forcing her to retreat back inside. Trained in a peculiar way, they listen only to one master: Yosiah. Despite his expertise, even Kuriachan ultimately fails to control them and is forced to gun down the dogs to ‘rescue’ Soyi.Story continues below this adHere, Bahul skillfully illustrates, without being overly explicit, how protection can disguise the restriction of someone’s movement and the denial of their freedom. In a broader socio-political context, this parallels the fences men create around women under the guise of protection from other men, while simultaneously exploiting them within the unofficial prison that is home. Although Soyi loved both Yosiah and, later, Kuriachan, neither of them regarded her as more than a possession for their sexual desires and to meet their other personal needs. Yosiah is even quoted as saying that “bitches and women in heat should be locked up,” mirroring how he imprisoned her with his dogs as guards. Even towards the end of her life, the only aim of those around her is to restrict her in various ways by offering protection.However, Bahul and Dinjith don’t leave Soyi to her fate. After watching Eko, anyone can map and realise the manner in which Bahul brilliantly subverted the power dynamic slowly, ultimately making Soyi the leader of the dogs. Unlike others who raised the canines by chaining or locking them up, she set them free, allowing them to live according to their own terms. Thus, even when it is revealed who Peeyoos actually is, and who the doghood in him considers his master, Eko shows the sheer helplessness in him as the dogs stand guard over Soyi and the secret that she has kept hidden between the rocks on a distant hill. The bond forged between Soyi and the canines here far surpasses the mechanical, power-based (hierarchical) master-servant relationship that existed before.This new, more understanding relationship also reflects certain aspects of ecofeminism. Here, Soyi also becomes the self-liberated Thommy who has regained control over her life after taking care of her Pattelar forever. Some say she knows black magic. But let’s not forget that labelling opinionated, strong, smart, and independent women as witches was a widespread practice in the past.Eko’s brilliance lies in how well Bahul has created the atmosphere and the characters. Although the movie runs for only about two hours, the writer hasn’t tried to stick to the usual screenplay structure or to offer unnecessary twists. Instead, he remains glued to his primary and most significant mission from the word go: world-building. Without rushing, he crafts the fort one brick at a time, ensuring that each component is given ample time for establishment and growth. Neither is he in a hurry to offer answers or “blow the minds” of viewers. In fact, the blowing of mind happens only at the end, when one sees how skillfully he has crafted the narrative to deliver an immersive and seamless experience without relying on conventional methods or formulas.Story continues below this ad Narain appears as a Navy Officer in Eko. (Screenshot: YouTube/Muzik247)Much like his previous venture, Kerala Crime Files Season 2 (2025), Bahul Ramesh bravely avoids the conventional flashback sequence at the end, which answerers all questions, in Eko as well. Instead, he disperses the answers throughout the film, prompting viewers to rewatch Eko or at least think about it again and again. The sharpness of Dinjith Ayyathan as a filmmaker lies in his masterful ability to grasp Bahul’s exceptional vision. Similar to the writing, Dinjith’s visual language, amplified by Bahul’s cinematography, also refrains from giving away everything but ensures that those seeking answers receive them.One brilliant quality the duo has displayed, evident in their magnum opus Kishkindha Kandam (2024) as well, is their ability to give each character uniqueness, idiosyncrasies, and arcs while also forging strong, layered interpersonal relationships among them. This isn’t an easy feat when crafting thrillers, as too many elements are at play, and the stakes are often too high, hindering the makers from focusing on such aspects. In my opinion, the only Malayalam filmmaker who has managed to do this so perfectly and exceptionally well is KG George; his thrillers Yavanika (1982), Irakal (1985), and Ee Kanni Koodi (1990) stand out as a testament to his skills in this domain. Although George ranks significantly higher, Bahul and Dinjith may well be the only other thriller makers in Malayalam who have managed to pull this off almost perfectly, while rooting their films in the surroundings the stories are set in. Ashokan plays Appootty in Eko. (Screenshot: YouTube/Muzik247)If there’s something that was lacking in Eko, it’s emotional depth. Since each character is like an island, completely detached and disassociated from everything around them, and also because Eko leaves many things unanswered, adding more emotional depth in certain areas would have made Eko hit harder. For instance, although we understand that Soyi started living with Kuriachan after leaving Malaysia, the bond that evolved between them goes uncommunicated. As a result, even upon realising what she eventually did to him, one can only appreciate the manner in which she pulled it off, rather than fully understand the emotional implications of her actions.With Eko, Sandeep Pradeep has proven that he may well be the most talented Malayalam actor of his generation, effortlessly embodying an extremely challenging, layered, and unconventional character with precision. His brilliance shone the brightest in his ability not to remind viewers of any of his previous performances. If he avoids falling into the trap of chasing stardom, it can be concluded that Malayalam cinema has found its next most promising and bankable lead actor.Story continues below this adHad Dinjith Ayyathan given a bit more attention to Biana Momin’s lip-syncing, Eko would have appeared far better visually, as there are quite a few instances when this plays spoilsport. While Mujeeb Majeed has done a splendid job with the music, offering a hypnotising experience, there are a few shots/scenes in the movie that would have worked even more had the makers embraced silence or ambient sound. Sooraj ES’s editing and Sajeesh Thamarassery’s art direction also deserve praise.