Malayalam cinema lost one of its sharpest voices on Sunday with the death of actor, screenwriter and director Sreenivasan, whose 48-year presence shaped the industry's conscience as much as its comedy. He was 69.
Sreenivasan breathed his last at a government taluk hospital in Thripunithura, bringing the curtains down on a career that redefined how humour could interrogate society.
An actor in over 200 films, he was far more than a performer. He was a chronicler of the Malayali middle class, its anxieties, hypocrisies and quiet resilience.
Born in 1956 near Kuthuparamba in Kannur district, Sreenivasan was the son of Unni, a schoolteacher and noted Communist, and Lakshmi, a homemaker.
He joined the Film and Television Institute of India in Chennai in 1977 to formally study acting, though his first screen appearance came earlier in P.A. Backer's Manimuzhakkam (1976). The late 1970s saw him take on supporting roles marked by realism rather than starry flourish.
Alongside acting, Sreenivasan emerged as a sought-after dubbing artist, lending his voice to Mammootty in several early films. But it was writing that would define his legacy.
His breakthrough screenplay Odaruthammava Aalariyam (1984) announced a writer unafraid to expose moral hypocrisy within familiar social settings.
This was followed by a remarkable run of classics including Sanmanassullavarkku Samadhanam, Gandhinagar 2nd Street and Nadodikkattu. These films did not merely entertain. They held a mirror to society, using humour as both shield and scalpel.
One of his most enduring works, Sandesham, unfolded as a sharp political satire set within a family drama. A retired railway worker mediates between his two ideologically opposed sons, one a communist and the other a congressman.
Through everyday domestic conflict, the film exposed larger political hypocrisies, mirroring Kerala's deeply divided political culture and middle-class life.
Dialogues such as "Don't speak a word about Poland" continue to echo across generations, a reminder of a time when Kerala's tea shops debated world affairs with fierce seriousness.
The collaboration between Sreenivasan, Mohanlal and director Sathyan Anthikad carved out a new cinematic grammar in the late 1980s.
Films addressing unemployment, dowry, political opportunism and social pretence found resonance because they felt lived-in. Thalayanamanthram (1990), a biting commentary on middle-class materialism and debt, remains a cultural shorthand for domestic financial strain even today.
As a director, Sreenivasan won the Kerala State Film Award for Vadakkunokkiyantram and the National Film Award for Chinthavishtayaya Shyamala, reinforcing his reputation as a filmmaker deeply invested in social realism.
His later acting roles, from the dark comedy Aanaval Mothiram to the restrained performance in Traffic (2011), showed his enduring ability to explore ethical conflict without melodrama.
In public life, Sreenivasan remained uncompromising. A self-described Communist who practised organic farming in Piravom, he was also one of the sharpest critics of political violence and hollow martyrdom. His candour often courted controversy but resonated with the common man.
His sons, Vineeth and Dhyan Sreenivasan, followed him into cinema, carving out identities of their own. He repeatedly said he never interfered in their careers.
In the end, Sreenivasan's greatest contribution lay in how quietly he transformed Malayalam cinema's conversation around politics, morality and everyday life. Malayalam cinema will laugh again. But it will never laugh quite the same way, with that unmistakable smirk of Sreenivasan, holding up a mirror even as he hid behind it.
