In a poignant scene, Ranjith and his wife, who have just learned the shattering diagnosis, see an old man with advanced Parkinson’s being tended to by his wife. The otherwise steely Ranjith, in a moment of vulnerability, clasps his wife’s hand. It’s a touching moment.
Vikram (Madhavan) is a stone-cold encounter specialist who can sleep soundly, regardless of how many lives he’s ended that day. “Korattai vittu thoonguven,” he says, and explains that he’s able to do that because of his conviction that he’s the good, and he’s putting bullets into the bad. Vedha (Vijay Sethupathi), the contemporised version of…
“I play every role like Vijay Sethupathi,” he says. “Vijay Sethupathi as a policeman. Vijay Sethupathi as a gangster. Vijay Sethupathi as a fraudster. It’s what you do in a scene that defines you, not how you look.”
And then, unexpectedly, after a significant part of the first half had played out, as I was gearing up to gouge my eyes out in boredom and annoyance, the film suddenly got better… much, much better.
It’s a compliment to Pandigai that I’m even wishing it had been more intense and contemplative.
Film-going is generally not an exercise in surprise anymore.
Our filmmakers have gone the Bollywood way and are embracing titles that are so long that reviews of them need only mention them about five times in order to reach the required word count.
Baby Driver makes you feel like you’ve wasted your life worrying about your tragedies, when you could instead have put on shades, plugged in earphones, and made the most of the moment.
It’s all fairly inventive, like the depiction of social media and its world of memes as having the power to dethrone a minister, and the usage of curious devices like the miniature surveillance camera that is mounted on an ‘e’ (housefly), perhaps on account of all the e-stuff going on.