KOCHI: Salim Kumar, the versatile National Award-winning Malayalam actor who redefined comedy and dramatic performance in Malayalam cinema, has passed away at the age of 56.

The veteran actor who metamorphosed himself into a fine and most sought after actor from a mimicry artist in his early days was admitted to a private hospital in Kochi on Saturday morning following sudden physical complications. As his health rapidly deteriorated, he was placed on ventilator support in the intensive care unit, where he later breathed his last. The actor who was a  lifelong Congress supporter has been struggling with health issues for long. He was last seen in Paravoor in a public event that was organised to felicitate newly elected Kerala Chief Minister VD Satheesan.

The actor’s mortal remains will be kept for public viewing at the Paravur Town Hall from 9:00 am Sunday, allowing colleagues, cultural leaders, and the public to pay their last respects. The Chief Minister of Kerala is scheduled to visit Paravur to pay homage to the departed cinema icon.

The funeral will take place tomorrow evening within his home compound in North Paravur, where he lived in a house aptly named “Laughing Villa”. He is survived by his wife, Sunitha, and their two sons, Chandu — who recently gained acting prominence in the hit film Manjummel Boys and Lokah —and Aromal.

Whilst widely celebrated for his razor-sharp wit and slapstick timing, Kumar’s career was defined by an extraordinary range that bridged commercial comedy and arthouse realism.

His crowning achievement came in 2010 with Salim Ahamed’s critically acclaimed Adaminte Makan Abu (Abu, Son of Adam), directed by Salim Ahmad. Kumar’s deeply moving portrayal of an impoverished, elderly unani medicine vendor yearning to perform the Hajj pilgrimage won him both the National Film Award and the Kerala State Film Award for Best Actor.

Born on October 10, 1969 in Chittattukara, Ernakulam, to Gangadharan and Kausalya, the actor’s very name carried a legacy of progressive thought. His father, a staunch atheist and follower of social reformer Sahodaran Ayyappan, purposefully chose the name “Salim” to ensure his son’s identity could not be easily tied to a specific religion. It was only later, upon entering school, that a teacher insisted on appending “Kumar” to his official records.

Kumar’s artistic journey began on the mimicry stages of his youth. Whilst completing his undergraduate studies at Sree Narayana Mangalam College in Malyankara, his comedic talents flourished. He later transferred to the prestigious Maharaja’s College in Ernakulam, explicitly choosing the institution to embed himself in the region’s thriving cultural scene and pursue his dream of cinema.

His exceptional talent was undeniable; he clinched the first-prize title for mimicry at the Mahatma Gandhi University Art Festival three consecutive times. This success paved the way for his entry into legendary professional performance troupes, including Cochin Kalabhavan and Sagar, which served as the traditional breeding grounds for Malayalam cinema’s greatest talents.

In a twist of poetic timing, Kumar received his very first call to act in a feature film on September 14, 1996—the exact day of his wedding to Sunitha. He made his screen debut in Ishtamand Nuruvattom, but it was the resounding success of the 2000 comedy-drama Thenkashippattanam that permanently transformed his career trajectory.

Over the next two decades, he became an indispensable pillar of commercial Malayalam cinema, appearing in hundreds of films.

His impeccable comic timing in cult hits such as Kalyanaraman, CID Moosa, Mayavi, Meesha Madhavan, Thilakam, Pulivaal Kalyanam, Chathikatta Chandu, and Chess carved out an iconic status.
Characters like the eccentric patient in One Man Show or the frantic SI Gabbar Keshavan in Pattalam remain deeply embedded in Kerala’s pop culture and contemporary internet memes.

Later in his career, Kumar successfully transitioned behind the camera, writing and directing feature films including Compartment, Karuta Juthan, and Deivame Kaithozham K. Kumarakanam. His creative footprints extended beyond Kerala, including performances in three Tamil films and one Odia production.

Though he battled recurring health issues and underwent a liver transplant in recent years, his passion for public life and cinema never waned.

Tributes poured in as the news about his demise spread.

Congress general secretary in charge of organisation:

“During his school days, Salim would always fondly recall a story where his father took him along, saying that there was someone whose neck he needed to place a garland around. When he later realised that the hands which caressed his cheek as he placed the garland belonged to none other than K. Karunakaran himself, Salim Kumar—a Congressman through and through—was truly born.

Salim Kumar was also the name of courage, someone who never viewed things missed out on solely due to being a Congressman as actual losses. He was a Congressman who carried the legacy of “Leader” deep within him.

He was a person with whom I shared a deeply personal, heartfelt bond. Ours was a friendship where family news, cinema updates, and politics were all discussed on equal terms. Salim, who ran around tirelessly to campaign for the Congress even during the Assembly Election period, will live on in our hearts forever. My bond with his son, Chandu, also began through Salim. But that is just a beginning with no end—much like Salim’s jokes.

I offer my respects to my dear friend, who has passed away, leaving behind a smile wrapped in sorrow.”

Senior journalist and Salim Kumar’s classmate in Maharaja’s College, Ernakulam Sreejith Divakaran wrote:

“There was a time when we were together.

The first half of the nineties. Maharaja’s College. B.A. Malayalam class. We were the permanent absentees in the classroom—Salim, the artist, and Sreejith, the magazine editor / UUC (University Union Councillor). Professor C.R. Omanakuttan (CR), who was a prominent figure among the teachers, was our mutual refuge.

During free hours, we would gather in the classroom and chat. If he was in a good mood, Salim would share a beedi. He would tell stories of Paravur, Malyankara, and the odd jobs he did from time to time. Amidst the laughter, the hardships of life would visibly stand out. Siraj, Vasu, and Vishnu would also be there amidst those laughs. Even though he was a KSU member, back then, Salim belonged completely to us, the SFI crowd.

The scale of laughter changed when Salim took over Comicola or a similar show on Asianet that used to be hosted by Dileep. All the presenters on Asianet became targets of comedy. Through Salim, Chintha Ravi and TNG (T.N. Gopakumar) turned into festivals of laughter. After that, Salim never looked back. Salim Kumar became a part of Malayalam cinema’s history.

Although we spoke over the phone several times after our college days, we first met in person at Kerala House in Delhi. Salim had arrived to attend a reception hosted by the Delhi Committee of the Kerala Union of Working Journalists for the great actor who had just won the National Award for Best Actor.

The old magazine editor was then the Delhi Secretary of the Union. The old mimicry artist was now the best actor in India. I have never spoken at an event with so much happiness.

There are many things that have made me feel upset with him. I have wondered, “What on earth is wrong with this guy?” But I will always feel proud that I was Salim’s classmate.

So, Salaam, my friend. See you. I feel too lazy to dig up old college photos. This is a good picture.”