It was a time when Mysore Sandal and Pears were considered
‘premium’. Maruti 800 was the car we aspired to own. And that’s when Arvind
Swamy wooed us amidst all the ‘pudhu vellai mazhai’. Overnight, he was the man
women fancied. Premium, with a capital P. Mouna Raagam’s Karthik was displaced,
like yesterday’s leftover rasa vandi. The man was all class. His voice was
smooth and sharp, at the same time. Like the fictional but unforgettable
Hattori Hanzo sword. His Tamil pronunciation was right. He spoke English with
finesse. No one cared if he could flex his muscles or flaunt a six pack.
And then, he left. But every film of his was cherishable. We
never stopped admiring him. Never was he forgotten. Remote controls paused when
the random 24 hour music channel played Kaadhal Rojave… Engae nee engae.
I don’t watch many movies. I watch maaaaybe 2 movies a year.
On a good year, that is. And recently, I vowed to change that. So, I caught
Thani Oruvan recently. And I fell for Arvind Swamy hook, line and sinker. I
focussed on little else.
The film joins a long list of ‘could have beens’. The story
is awesome. Awesome, not just for a Tamil movie, as people tend to say when
they describe Thani Oruvan. It doesn’t look plagiarised. A brilliant antagonist
who doesn’t like getting his hands dirty is something we rarely see in Tamil
Cinema. The last time I liked the antagonist in a Tamil film was in Udhiri
Pookkal.
A classy man on screen is awesome. We have seen the Sanjay
Ramaswamys. A classy man with a past in Chennai slums, a scientist who
understands the intricacies of local politics and power struggles is beyond
awesome. Arvind Swamy as Siddharth Abhimanyu doesn’t throw his shirt off and
get into fist fights. He doesn’t dance to masala numbers with his girlfriend.
He spends his time in a lab! And gets people assassinated with the press of a
few cellphone buttons. I decided to like the movie in the first ten minutes,
when a young Palani (yet to become the Joker of his Gotham) discusses political
leverage and loopholes in juvenile delinquency laws.
The intelligently woven story makes up for the goofs- the
protagonist dabbles with vigilante justice before becoming an IPS officer. The
firang lady who’s thrown a stunning welcome is referred with her first name
alone. Ravi struggles to pronounce names right. Jayam Ravi’s Mithran is revered
a tad too much by his batch mates. And worst of all, in this day when women’s
emancipation is to be handled responsibly, the director falls into Tamil masala
formula. It irks us when Mahima(Nayantara) clears her civil service
examinations and then gives it up because of love gone sour. Enna kodumai? Formula
wise, Nayantara in uniform would have been a stunner, Raja! And don’t even get
me started on the ‘righteous’ hero doling out advice to the female lead on
kulchur.
Tamil Cinema is stuck on their women and men playing hard to
get. Thani Oruvan is no exception. And Mithran ‘realising’ his love for Mahima
is baseless. Nevertheless, the film redeems itself with Mithran professing his
love with a whiteboard and marker. Oh yes, it’s a Tamil padam and it’s an
unwritten rule that the scene has to be followed by a song set in scenic
tropical islands with fluttering duppatas.
Jayam Ravi is almost alright, for the role. He’s no
Anbuselvan IPS. Mithran, the cop who knows it all and does everything right has
the voice of a cornered mouse. Recently, I watched one of Ajit’s initial
attempts at acting- Aval Varuvaala. I guess the movie was a hit because of
Simran’s hotness factor. ( Remember the racy number ‘Jannal veccha jacket
podavaa’?). Anyhow, Ajit’s voice back then is weird. Reminds you of castrated
choir boys. Fast forward to Yennai Arindhaal: Satyadev IPS is the whole
package. His voice is perfect for the role he essays. In stark contrast is the
voice of Arvind Swamy. You actually sit up and take notice when he utters words
and phrases like ‘Imbecile’, ‘Love at first sight, kill at first betrayal’. The
man’s Tamil uccharippu is a major turn on!
You could argue that the ‘hero’ himself gets only secondary
screen presence and that it is only natural that his sidekicks get less than
that. But why get a bunch of hotter-than-Ravi dudes like Ganesh Venkatraman and
waste them?
Another gem in the movie is Thambi Ramaiah who plays the
Siddharth Abhimanyu’s Supandi-ish father. Overall, I am happy I watched the movie. And would
love to watch it again. Minus the lame punch dialogues like, ‘un edhiri yaar
endru sol, nee yaar endru solgiraen’, Mithran’s righteous-snob dialogues, the
film would have been much, much better. And the script strays far from reality
when it shows IPS officers taking a personal interest in felling individuals. Vigilante
justice sheathed in uniform?
What stays in my mind, long after watching the movie is
Arvind Swamy going to the CM and turning the tables with an Ennamma ippadi
pannreengalae maa. Splendid!
