Simply looked at, it’s yet another story of friendship flavoured by a love story that runs into that familiar demon, caste trouble. The difference here though is that the two friends, Easwaran (Prasanna) and Hari (Kalaiyarasan), aren’t just defined by their friendship — Easwaran especially. He’s a person scarred by, and hence, scared of loss.
A girl our hero, Kuzhanthai (GV Prakash), is supposed to find repulsive is dark-skinned and named Karunkuzhali. In truth, the actual actor is very decent-looking, but that doesn’t stop Yogi Babu, playing Kuzhanthai’s friend, from referencing ‘aduppu kari’ when talking about her appearance.
“It’s a bizarre choice, because in these flashback narratives, Kaali’s actually trying to unearth the truth about the identity of his parents. So, you have the very uncomfortable visual of seeing the character — playing his likely father — romancing his mother. It’s just… bizarre.”
“Arvind Swami totally sells the brutishness of Bhaskar, and his lack of manners — which makes for a recurring joke. The film’s strength is the largely innocent brand of humour it peddles, and you realise this never more than in the final act when the jokes all but disappear, and the film turns tedious.”
“Nag Ashwin couldn’t have made it clearer that Nadigaiyar Thilagam deems Savitri to be an angel descended from above, and a hapless victim of her circumstances. She’s shown to be a munificent spirit who can scarcely come to terms with the dark world she’s inhabiting — one full of ungrateful people and opportunists.”
“Simply because it’s an adult film, a woman walks around with a shirt captioned ‘orgasm’. Men walk around with underwear that bear the image of a banana. It’s a mark of deep sexual repression in our society that the theatre resounded with laughter at these silly references.”