Eko: A Dark, Layered Thriller That Completes the Animal Trilogy
While unravelling the mystery is the heart of any thriller, Eko’s brilliance is not in a traditional whodunnit. It’s in the details of the character and the universe, seamlessly built scene by scene
Anyone who watched Dinjith Ayyathan’s last movie Kishkindha Kaandam, and loved it knows exactly what to expect when walking into Eko. This film is also the final instalment in writer–cinematographer Bahul Ramesh’s animal trilogy, following Kishkindha Kaandam (2024) and Kerala Crime Files 2 (2025). Still, I tried not to expect too much—after all, who gets three back-to-back hits? But Eko lands exactly where the makers wanted it to be.
After Eko: Chronicles of Kuriachan, Dinjith and Bahul can confidently pull up two chairs among the best filmmakers in Malayalam cinema today.
The film opens with fragmented stories about Kuriachan (Saurabh Sachdeva), a man who has been on the run for five years. The narrative seems to unfold in the 80s, based on the timelines mentioned. Through the people searching for him, we start piecing together who he really is: not just an outlaw, but a brilliant dog breeder with powerful friends and equally powerful enemies—a man who can be warm or ruthless as he pleases.
Kuriachan has been married three times, though he shares a good relationship only with his last wife, Mlaathi (Biana Momin). Mlaathi—short for Malathi, derived from Malaya—came to Kaattukunnu with Kuriachan after he “rescues” her from her guard dogs.
(Spoilers ahead)
Locals believe Mlaathi practices black magic. She now lives alone on Kuriachan’s vast land in Kaattukunnu, an eerily beautiful mountain range somewhere along the Kerala–Karnataka border. She refuses to move to a more convenient location despite her old age and ailments. Her world is reduced to her caretaker Peeyoos (Sandeep Pradeep) and an army of dogs guarding her.
While unravelling the mystery is the heart of any thriller, Eko’s brilliance is not in a traditional whodunnit. It’s in the details of the character and the universe, seamlessly built scene by scene. Mujeeb Majeed’s music does wonders for this feat, enhancing every shift in the mood.
Kaattukunnu and its surrounding mountains are described as unexplored for most parts. Unknown, except to those who have had reasons to disappear into their wilderness. Much like Kuriachan, non-coincidentally.
A strong lineup of actors - Vineeth, Ashokan, Binu Pappu, Saheer Mohammed, Narain - pushes the story forward. Saurabh Sachdeva as Kuriachan is an unexpected but impressive choice. Yet among this stellar ensemble, it’s Biana Momin and Sandeep Pradeep who shine the brightest. This is easily Sandeep Pradeep’s best performance yet. If his previous film showed he could carry a lead role, this one proves how far he can push himself—and how well he can deliver.
Eko makes a pointed case for ecofeminism, politicising and problematising ideas of protection, ownership, and loyalty. The theme first surfaces through Mlaathi’s comments about her puppies, then through Kuriachan's comments on Mlaathi’s restrictions in flashbacks, and becomes even more powerful - and satisfying - towards the climax.
The movie makes explicit commentaries about how women and nature are treated as commodities - protected, restricted, passed from one “master” to another - but it also shows how, in this game, people are robbed of mutual trust and even a sense of community. Just as the dogs are to their geographical territories, the characters in the story are each loyal to their lies and layers of truth.
If Kishkindha Kaandam was a story of mutual care through necessary pretensions and unknown truths, Eko is the exact opposite of it. Nobody trusts each other, even those with similar motives. In a land where humans should ideally rely on each other for safety and survival (remember the walkie-talkie system Appooty mentions among the jeep drivers?), this game of protection and ownership leaves everyone second-guessing one another and themselves.