Sarvam Maya banks on its leading man, Nivin Pauly, who grasps at straws and makes the improbable scenes work with his charm, notes Arjun Menon.

Key Points
- Saryam Maya is directed by Akhil Sathyan.
- Sarvam Maya feels like an offshoot of the director's previous work Pachuvum Athbhutha Vilakkum, in which a seemingly unfocused man-child decides to change his ways after an encounter with a fiercely outspoken woman.
- Nivin Pauly's charm cannot save Saryam Maya.
Sarvam Maya is the kind of film Akhil Sathyan was building up to make since his debut, Pachuvum Athbhutha Vilakkum. His father, the legendary filmmaker Sathyan Anthikad, has made a career churning out films about headstrong protagonists, who are taught the meaning of life by a stranger (preferably female) companion.
It's the quintessential rebranding of the 'Sathyan Anthikad' formula regurgitated with a 'ghost' in its setting that makes Sarvam Maaya work to an extent. But ultimately, the film does not work.
Of course, the box office loved it! Who doesn't like to see a simple-minded morality tale about a simpleton who overcomes his bitter relationship with his dad and finally learns to embrace his own self?
What Sarvam Maya is about
Sarvam Maya anchors its story on the shoulders of a struggling electric guitar player, Prabhendu (Nivin Pauly), who gets by on the occasional local concerts and stage programmes, but is yet to find a means to monetise his guitar career on the big stage.
He also happens to be an atheist who left home long ago due to his personal disagreements with his father and elder brother, who are doing great for themselves with their spiritual 'line of work'.
After being forced to take a sabbatical from his guitar playing, Prabhendu decides to let go of his principles and join in with his cousin and old-time pal Roopesh (Aju Varghese) as a right-hand man assisting in pooja ceremonies. He starts to work on his charming personality, and his career in the faith starts to take off spectacularly, to his own chagrin.
The film takes off when one fine day, Prabhendu comes across a friendly, Gen Z ghost, a female companion, who seems almost as surprised seeing him in flesh and blood. What ensues is a tale as old as time; the ghost slowly works her way into the vicinity of the hero and changes his life forever.
The ghost in Sarvam Maya
The ghost (Riya Shibu) is pretty chill and stands in total contrast to the rusty and cynical Prabhendu, who takes his time to warm up to her easygoing ways. The ghost gets a name (Delulu), their bond intensifies, and Prabhendu takes it upon himself to find out what happened to this young girl that led to her untimely death.
Sarvam Maya works best when Nivin Pauly and Riya Shibu interact, and there is this charge that happens when two actors adept at handling sleight of hand humour, use that chemistry to build up their rapport on screen. You see their familiarity gradually grow, despite their contradictory opinions on pretty much everything.
There is some fun to be had at the weightless, amusing interactions between a Gen X man trying to familiarise himself with the ways of a Gen Z ghost who pokes fun at his 'ancient' ways. But the film flattens out the transformative arc of an atheist, who is forced to reckon with the theological contradictions of his own convictions and the hypocritical way in which he decided to make a living.
Sarvam Maya is so simple-minded that the character detail of him being an atheist, which starts as an interesting note, slowly fades into the background and becomes an almost repetitive, superficial detail that does not figure in the bigger picture.
The link between Sarvam Maya and Pachuvum Athbhutha Vilakkum
There have been films with similar storylines in the past, like Vismayathumbathu and Koode, which used the trope of a ghost or a personal apparition to connect two distant characters and bring about closure to their otherwise wayward lives.
Akhil Sathyan flattens out a character drama about a person embracing his conflicting religious beliefs into a film where the ghost debates the possible explanations for the existence of God with the depth and complexity of a teenager's WhatsApp forward.
It probably fits the age group of the ghost in the film but that does not excuse Saryam Maya for being so coy in its infantilising approach to such lush themes and inherently weighty questions.
Sarvam Maya feels like an offshoot of the director's previous work, Pachuvum Athbhutha Vilakkum, in which a seemingly unfocused man-child decides to change his ways after an encounter with a fiercely outspoken woman.
The writing so echoes the structure of that film, where in Sarvam Maya, you get two monologues delivered by the hero about a deceased love, almost paralleling the monologues by the female lead Hamsadhwani in Pachuvum Athbhutha Vilakkum. The dead relatives are interchangeable and can be transposed over each other, and you will lose nothing by way of context or emotional resonance
That will give you an idea of the tiring template of work here, which uses archetypes as some sort of shorthand for considered screenwriting choices. Every creative choice in Sarvam Maya feels like a foregone conclusion, and you get the tired, breathless script trying to tie together loose ends.
The faults of Sarvam Maya
Sarvam Maya stops, pauses and literally resets at the monologues delivered by Nivin Pauly as you hear the words about his dead mother and the reasons behind his cold refusal to acknowledge his ageing father. But these rarely register as the details in the writing and filmmaking feel so cumbersome and self-satisfied.
It feels almost naive to dissect such a frivolous and weightless film on paper, but the repetition in the formula, where an aimless man child, grieving female lead, overwrought scenarios, character details and surface level philosophical ramblings about relationships and modern day life are inserted at regular intervals with zero self awareness, all begs the question, have filmmakers given up on the idea of novelty for good?
For instance, there is this character, Saadhya (Preity Mukundan), who makes her way into the story almost towards the beginning of the finale hour. It's a ludicrously underwhelming character that is supposed to represent a new beginning in Prabhendu's life, but I have rarely seen such an underwritten, flimsy execution of a female cypher on screen.
Nivin Pauly gets the silliness of Sarvam Maya
Sarvam Maya banks on its leading man, Nivin Pauly, who grasps at straws and makes the improbable scenes work with his charm.
Nivin Pauly gets the silliness of the whole thing and is in tune with the material. His onscreen rapport with Riya Shibu and Aju Varghese is the only takeaway from this muddling exercise in repetition.
The backstory of Delulu is one of the better-written segments in the film, but it's closed off with a flatly shot scene involving the ghost's mother and Prabhendu, which feels underdeveloped to get the necessary highs.
The formula is rather critic-proof at this point as you ask yourself: Is it really worth it?








