‘Balan: The Boy’: Why Chidambaram shunned stars like Mohanlal and Mammootty after ‘Manjummel Boys’ and bet on new faces

Dubai: Most filmmakers, after delivering the biggest Malayalam blockbuster of the year, would probably have Mohanlal, Mammootty and every major Indian star on speed dial.

But acclaimed South Indian filmmaker Chidambaram S Poduval did something stranger.

Instead of cashing in his Manjummel Boys goodwill on a star-led extravaganza, the director followed it up with Balan: The Boy, a thriller headlined by a child actor, populated by unfamiliar faces, and centred around a mother who isn't exactly auditioning for the benevolent and sacrificial mother club.

In this highly-reviewed movie, out in UAE cinemas now, child actor Adhisheshan K. R plays the titular Balan along with superbly talented Farzana Palathingal, who plays his mother.

It's a move that feels almost rebellious in an industry obsessed with opening weekend numbers and hero worship.

But then again, Chidambaram has never appeared particularly interested in doing what is expected.

"That story demanded very new faces, like people who you are not familiar with," he tells me over Zoom.

"So you won't know what they will do next. What is their modus operandi?"

For him, unfamiliarity isn't a drawback. It's a storytelling weapon.

And despite the film's festival pedigree, he is quick to shut down any fears that audiences are about to sit through a worthy-but-boring arthouse exercise.

"This is a proper commercial theatre film. It's not a festival film, but it happened to go to some festivals, that's it."

Translation? Don't expect long shots of people staring meaningfully into the distance.

"I won't make you bored," he laughs. "Please come, it will be an engaging watch."

What's fascinating about Balan: The Boy is that it wasn't even supposed to happen.

While bigger projects were brewing in the background, Chidambaram found himself in a rare state that many successful directors don't openly admit to: impatience.

"I was kind of bored and sad that my next outing will take some time," he says.

That's when the project arrived.

"Balan fell into my lap."

Today, it is a film he speaks about with genuine affection.

"I'm very proud of Balan and very happy that I was able to make this film."

And he knows exactly who deserves credit for making that possible.

"Thanks to Manjummel Boys and all the credit I got from Manjummel Boys made Balan happen."

Because let's be honest: convincing producers to back a thriller led by a child actor isn't exactly the easiest pitch in cinema.

"For the investors and producers to trust me to do a film with completely new faces and the boy as a protagonist, I think Manjummel really helped."

The actor who kept announcing his battery level

Every director has war stories. Chidambaram's involve a child actor who treated filmmaking like a smartphone running dangerously low on power.

"After four days, he got bored and wanted to go home," the director recalls.

The problem? They still had almost three months of shooting left.

Thankfully, the young actor turned out to be gifted.

"He's very observational and he's a good actor."

But by evening, reality would set in.

"He always comes straight to me and says, 'Sir, my battery is low.'"

By 7pm, the announcement became a daily ritual.

"My battery is low."

Chidambaram's favourite performance, however, required no acting whatsoever.

"The best thing you act is when you're acting as sleeping. He really sleeps."

Not every mother wants to be Mother Earth

Malayalam cinema, like most film industries, has often treated mothers as saints in starched saris — endlessly patient, endlessly forgiving and suspiciously calm.

Chidambaram isn't buying that version.

"I think all mothers go through a very hard time," he says.

From childbirth to teenage tantrums to estranged adult children, motherhood is rarely the soft-focus fantasy many films sell.

"They're stressed most of the time. Sometimes they burst. Sometimes they get angry."

The mother in Balan the Boy certainly does.

"She's not your usual mother."

What exactly is a usual mother?

"Mother is the symbol of kindness. She's not that."

Then comes the line that perfectly captures his approach.

"She's not Mother Earth. She's the normal mother."

It's a portrayal that has resonated with women who've watched the film.

Some perhaps a little too much.

"They're like, 'Oh, very interesting. I won't be watching this film. It already gives me anxiety.'"

Why Mammootty fascinates him

Of course, the obvious question remains. After Manjummel Boys, why hasn't Chidambaram made a Mohanlal or Mammootty movie yet?

The answer is simple: he's waiting for the right one.

"I really want to work with Mohanlal, Fahadh, Mammootty and everyone."

But he refuses to make a routine star vehicle.

"If you're associating with a star, it should be grand. It should be big. It should be something new from the star that people don't expect."

When the conversation turns to Mammootty, Chidambaram lights up.

The director is genuinely fascinated by the megastar's current phase — one that has seen him embrace increasingly unconventional roles while actors half his age often play it safe.

"Mammootty is very daring."

Then comes perhaps the funniest line of the interview.

"I don't know who hurt Mammootty."

He laughs.

"He's very daring. He does everything."

Whether it's playing a ghost in 'Brahmayugam' or disappearing into wildly unconventional characters, Mammootty continues to surprise audiences.

"I don't think many young actors would dare do that."

For Chidambaram, the explanation is obvious.

"That's why they are legends."

Success doesn't silence anxiety

If success was supposed to bring peace of mind, nobody seems to have informed Chidambaram.

"Every morning, every day, I wake up with anxiety."

The pressure, he says, is real.

"There is a certain level of expectation that you have to deliver."

Perhaps that's the paradox of success.

The bigger the hit, the bigger the shadow it casts.

For now, though, Chidambaram seems content doing what brought him here in the first place: telling rooted stories and trusting audiences to find them.

After all, Manjummel Boys wasn't designed as a pan-Indian blockbuster.

It simply became one.

"We don't say, 'Let's make a pan-Indian film.' I think that is the biggest mistake."

Instead, he believes the most local stories often travel the furthest.

"You go very locally. It will become truly global."

It's the kind of philosophy that has already given Malayalam cinema one phenomenon.

And if Balan the Boy delivers on its promise, it might just give Chidambaram another.