Vamsi Krishna Sridharan

At 70, Rajnikanth is still the alpha. AR Murugadoss weaves a very intricate tapestry of social messaging (the scourge of drugs among our youth), sentiment (the father-daughter bond and that of a master and confidante/sidekick), raw human emotions (love, rage, resentment and catharsis) and STYLE (nothing needed in here). Much praise has been rendered for the Thomas Grammer stratagem, the train station waltz, the gut-wrenching sign-off; much more criticism leveled at the incredulous hero entry, the underwhelming villain and the ephemeral quality of the female lead. While I can only rave about the good bits, I have to say that the demands on suspension of disbelief in the others is minimal. It’s all polished to such a shine that even the pockmarks glint with spunk. The knowing nod shared between Yogi Babu and Nivetha Thomas breaks tradition on what a comedian should be. The resigned and muted performance of the daughter and the bellicose and over-the-top eruption by the father redefined what Rajnikanth should be. The final line between hero and villain is not so much a punch as a masterclass. That’s what this movie is. A masterclass. An open plea to Rajnikanth if you or someone close to you reads this: bring your age-defying energy and enthusiasm to the political arena. Time and providence are waiting for you to “detox” the system - paraphrasing Aaditya Arunasalam. Ten thumbs up for Darbar.

Rs. 350 Cr. down the drain.