IDSFFK 2026: In It Was Here Before Our Time, Ramith Kunhimangalam pays homage to Maari Theyyam

Ramith Kunhimangalam’s short documentary It Was Here Before Our Time places itself in a liminal space, where Maari Theyyam, the core subject of the film, transitions from an art form bonding people to ultimately evolve into a spectacle or public event. This idea motivated the creator to document Maari Theyyam as a homage to what it stands for, until time takes over.

The documentary has been included in the Focus Short Documentary category at the ongoing 18th International Documentary & Short Film Festival of Keralam (IDSFFK) in Thiruvananthapuram and was screened at the Sree theatre here on Sunday (September 27, 2026).

“It is rooted in the place I am from. Maari Theyyam is different from other Theyyams in that it does not boast the opulence of those forms, ” says Ramith, who is from Kannur.

Unlike most Theyyams, Maari Theyyam is performed during the Malayalam month of Karkadakam (July-August), the monsoon season, often associated with scarcity and illnesses. Madayikkavu in Kannur, where the Theyyam is based, is believed to be doomed with 101 curses. The rulers approached Polla, a “Pulayan gurukkal” (a magician/healer from the Pulaya community), who wards off the village’s misfortunes by drowning it in the Arabian Sea.

Maari Theyyam, also known as Karkadaka Theyyam, performed by members of the Pulaya community, usually consists of six artistes, each playing a different character: Marikkaliyan, Maamayakkaliyan, Maarikalichi, Maamayakalichi, Maarikkuliyan and Maamaayakkuliyan. They dance from house to house, carrying the illnesses and misfortunes of households in the palm fronds they hold, which is ultimately thrown into the water. The 31-minute long documentary observes the performances, which take place during the 16th and 17th day of Karkadakam, while explaining how the art form connects social harmony and social survival.

Ramith attempts to depict the art form with a sense of aesthetics, which he believes was absent in most of the visual documentation about Maari Theyyam. “The Theyyams do not walk on a fixed path because it is believed to be blind and deaf. They take a route they like. I wanted my visuals to interact with nature. Other Theyyams, in recent years, are performed on floor with interlocked tiles under an asbestos roof. They lack the originality that was there in the past,” he says.

The painted wooden mask and light green palm-frond frills present a stripped-down version of Theyyam, without compromising on details. The film is shrouded in shades of grey as an ode to the overcast conditions, with rain playing an important role, establishing man’s divine association with nature.

The documentary, produced by actor-director Rajesh Madhavan, oscillates between conversations with different stakeholders in the art form and the performance itself — cautiously zooming in on the daunting depiction of Maari Theyyam, accompanied by howls and screams, while explaining it from a human perspective on the divine.

Ramith, a fine arts graduate, says capturing something so unpredictable requires a lot of planning. “I had done my share of research, talking to people, going to locations, marking possible routes and setting up frames in my mind. We should be one step ahead to capture events as they happen. A lot of the frames in the film were planned. I had imagined the sequences a certain way; to see it play out in front of me as intended was thrilling as a filmmaker,” says Ramith, who has worked as an assistant director in Don Palathra’s Family and Mr. Madhavan’s Pennum Porattum.

The documentary can be interpreted as an interaction between the past and the present. Ramith’s film draws parallels between the period preceding Maari Theyyam’s arrival and a pandemic-like era. The filmmaker adds, “The form is peculiar visually. To me, it even resembles the pictures of the coronavirus we have seen.”

Ramith also tries to establish Mayan and African links to Maari Theyyam due to its masked traditions. While he doesn’t present concrete evidence to support his claim, he smuggles the argument into the film, with its music, done by Christo Xavier, who is also the film’s co-producer.

The documentary attempts to stop time from changing Maari Theyyam, explaining how Theyyams, as an art form, have become more about photos, videos and entertainment. Ramith, who doesn’t condone this behaviour, says, “There’s nothing much that can be done about this. I did this film now to show Maari Theyyam with as much integrity as I can before it evolves into something else.”