Abid Abu

Abid Abu’s filmography is a wild ride, honestly. “Neelavelicham” (2023) hits you with this haunting nostalgia—think old-world Kerala, flickering oil lamps, and secrets lurking in every shadow. The story leans into the supernatural, but not in a cheap jumpscare kind of way. It’s got this slow-burn tension, where every creak and whisper matters. You’re pulled right into the crumbling mansion, feeling the weight of all those memories and regrets. The way the movie weaves in music and silence? Chef’s kiss. Jump to “Virus” (2019), and the vibe does a complete 180. Here, chaos reigns. The film’s based on the real-life Nipah outbreak in Kerala, and, man, it doesn’t sugarcoat anything. There’s panic, confusion, heartbreak—you watch ordinary folks step up in extraordinary circumstances. Doctors, nurses, random strangers—they’re all in the trenches together, dodging paranoia and misinformation like it’s a second virus. What really sticks is how the movie never lets up on the urgency. You’re practically sweating by the end. Then you’ve got “Mayaanadhi” (2017), which is a whole different flavor. It’s about love, but not the fairy-tale kind. There’s grit, longing, and a sense of dread hanging over Maathan and Aparna’s romance. Life keeps throwing curveballs, and you know things will probably go sideways, but you’re hoping they catch a break. The city’s nightlife, the stolen moments, the heartbreak—it all feels heartbreakingly real. Abid Abu’s touch makes every story feel lived-in, messy, and achingly human.