Bank robbery, heist, a team forming, an expert who’s figuring his way around new challenges… these are all such cinematically exciting ideas. In the case of Kara, director Vignesh Raja tries to marry them with Tamil film ethos: Small-town setting, farmers, theism, Robin Hood figure… and of course, the mother of them all: melodrama, which I have lots of affection for. What Kara doesn’t seem to account for is the numbing power of repetitive sadness, particularly when the music (GV Prakash) insists on underlining it at every opportunity. In hindsight, I do think that the film might have benefitted from a more stoic approach towards the protagonist’s suffering (especially because he’s a grey character as well).

Dhanush submits fully, likeably. He doesn’t seem to be perturbed that there are few moments that play to the gallery, save for, say, the intro scene of a ‘hero landing’, and that homage to Pudupettai, as a DSP remarks, “Ivan nikkaraan da… Nadakkaraan da…” I quite enjoyed that mirror shot of Kara rising like a ghost, as DSP Bharathan (Suraj, with a great performance) gets a bit startled. This is a film about an ordinary man, a condemnable man even, who’s trying to pay off a debt, come hell or high water (reference to the Hollywood film quite deliberate given the themes). A man who makes the full transition from robber to Robin Hood.

I enjoyed that for the longest time, Kara isn’t even a particularly decent man, let alone be a hero. He potentially causes the death of a close one as well. The film also launches into a fascinating thesis on the nature of theft and how retribution seems tied to status or the lack of it. The system tramples all over Kara, labelling him a thief and a criminal, but what about DSP Bharathan who’s happy to steal credit? What about Muthuselvan (Jayaram), a bank manager, who loots from his own company? Really, how different is he from Kara who’s branded for stealing from his home? The setting and Dhanush’s look reminded me of Karnan, of his pent-up rage as he smashes that government bus. I sensed an echo of that here, when he smashes a vault again and again. The echoing sound, and Karunaas’ anxiety, make the scene so memorable.

For me, these heist portions are the soul of the film. That’s why my most favourite stretch is when Kara and his uncle (Karunaas), mid-robbery, find themselves face-to-face with a policeman who walks in to open an account. The film beautifully takes its time with this scene and the genre truly comes alive here. I certainly wished for a lot more of this. Considering the number of implied robberies in this film, it’s a pity that a lot of them end up as information than experience. And that is because this film is up to its neck with ideas. A troubled marriage, a thematic exploration of theft, agrarian problems, the machinations of a manager,
a Javert–Jean Valjean-style cop-criminal pursuit, a quest tied to a dead father, a pregnancy reveal that doesn’t quite land, a sudden homage to Thevar Magan, a potentially unreliable ally… It’s a lot.

On account of this density perhaps, there are small emotional payoffs that don’t quite register. Like Kara’s sudden realisation that his father could have got justice for all the farmers through legal means. Jayaram’s Muthuselvan is sly and dark, but I wasn’t sure about the occasional comic undertones, even at the very end. Above all, Selli feels… underwritten, which is sad, because at one point, it feels like Kara’s quest begins with wanting to provide a good life for her. I particularly enjoyed that visual idea of rain leaking through their roof, and how the scene that begins with Selli standing away, dry and safe, ends with her joining Kara under the rain.

I was also slightly unsure about the moral framework. If this is a grey, unfair world, how’s it that one ‘evil’ character is at the receiving end of seemingly divine justice (with a Karuppusami reference as well), while the other walks away victorious? I ask only because of the implication that a protector deity is watching over these innocent men.

But let’s be clear that films like Kara matter. Because they’re trying to tell a story, not sell a star. We don’t get enough of these from our leading actors. But Kara’s hopeful balance between a Hollywood-style genre film and the emotional texture of Tamil cinema is a tricky objective. I do think that in this film, the lush sentiment comes at the expense of genre pleasures, and it’s not like the film is fully able to lean into the thrill of a Robin Hood narrative either. The action sequences show this: they’re intimate and chaotic, not designed for heroism, not designed to entertain. I do think that this film could have really done with fewer ideas, and perhaps the occasional shot of adrenaline.

But this is a film with an original soul. And I’ll always stand by such cinema. One of many memorable visuals from this film has an old man’s corpse being kicked in the presence of his son, Kara. In most star-led films, that moment would trigger primal retribution (immediate or otherwise). Here, it doesn’t. Because the man responsible isn’t a conventional villain; he’s just a careless, indifferent government employee. And so, in this film, Kara, despite his anguish, can do nothing but walk away. It’s genuine, affecting helplessness. And that’s rare, and for that reason, precious.