When you watch a Rajinikanth movie, you aren’t just watching that scene, that film. A reel of all the other Rajinikanth movies that you’ve watched in your lifetime runs in your head, and what you’re really waitinfg for is to see him do that walk, that flick, that unique dialogue delivery. Director Nelson Dilipkumar understands this, and with Jailer, he proves that he has learnt to harness star power and utilise it without compromising on the amoral universe that is so necessary to his crime comedies.
‘Tiger’ Muthuvel Pandian (Rajinikanth) is a former jailer who lives his retired life as a declawed cat. His hobbies include going to the market to buy vegetables, assisting his grandson (Shakti Rithvik) who is a budding YouTuber, and polishing the shoes of his police officer son, Arjun (Vasanth Ravi). His wife, Vijaya (Ramya Krishnan), doesn’t even give in to his demand for another type of chutney. That’s how much of a domestic cat he is.
But every Rajini fan knows this template, made phenomenally popular by Baasha (1995). “En peru Manickam. Enakku innoru peru irukku” (My name is Manickam. I have another name) – it is that transformation that will kick the movie into fourth gear, and Jailer doesn’t disappoint. The plot revolves around a crime gang that smuggles ancient temple idols and artefacts. ACP Arjun, who is investigating the trail, disappears mysteriously, forcing his father to get back into the groove.
Jailer has a supercop at the heart of it, so the glorification of custodial violence that has defined the genre is very much present. But still, this is a quieter Rajinikanth who hardly raises his voice. He isn’t kicking and throwing punches, and the punch line itself is just three words – “Tiger ka hukum”. He only dances a few steps with Tamannaah in a needless item number. Yet, the superstar has a blast playing Muthuvel Pandian. Nelson does away with the mandatory ‘Thalaivar’ introduction song (and without SPB, do we even need it any more?), and much of the other paraphernalia associated with Rajini films. But he does retain a few, and the impact is all the more because the screenplay isn’t chock-a-block with Rajini references.
There’s one such scene in the second half when the entire theatre went bonkers (I plead guilty, too, Your Honour), and it seems to be Nelson’s way of asserting his brand of unapologetic filmmaking. To be honest, considering the number of insincere “message padams” that we have witnessed over the years, this is something of a relief. Earlier in the film, there’s a scene when an in-form Yogi Babu looks at his phone while driving and a mandatory disclaimer appears on screen, telling viewers that this is illegal. “Is this really necessary?” I found myself asking. So, when Nelson punctures these relentless disclaimers with a scene that generates such collective euphoria, you can’t help but join the celebration.
There are two other southern superstars in the film – Shivrajkumar and Mohanlal in enjoyable cameos as gangsters. There’s also Jackie Shroff from Bollywood and Sunil (he’s hilarious as Blast Mohan) from the Telugu film industry. Moreover, Rajinikanth speaks in Tamil, Malayalam, Telugu, Kannada and Hindi depending on the situation, and that too sends the relevant sections of the crowd into a tizzy. The attempt to cater to multiple audiences is obvious, but it isn’t jarring because the writing holds up. With Anirudh’s flashy background score and Vijay Kartik Kannan’s slick camera work, the cameos effectively elevate the film.
Malayalam actor Vinayakan plays Varman, the manic chief of this gang that is composed of eccentric characters. The mixing of over-the-top violence with slightly cuckoo villains makes the blood and gore look less menacing, almost amusing. So, when Varman is introduced bludgeoning a few hapless people and later dunking them in tanks of sulfuric acid as if they’re Marie biscuits in ginger tea, it’s still possible to munch on your popcorn. Or maybe, one has just become that desensitised to on screen violence in Tamil cinema. We got an aerial view of Sakthivel (Kamal Haasan) chopping Mayan’s (Nassar) head in Thevar Magan (1992), and that used to shock us. But now, we get a close-up shot of Muthuvel beheading a minor villain – and we accept it without a care in a U/A film.
The women characters have nothing much to do, and that is disappointing, considering one of the highlights of Jailer was that it was bringing back the Padayappa combination of Rajinikanth and Ramya Krishnan. Neither Muthuvel’s wife nor his daughter-in-law (Mirnaa Menon) get a character arc, and child actor Rithvik gets more dialogues than they have in the entire film. At no point does the film allow you to feel the emotions of anyone other than Muthuvel – and this further exposes the weaknesses in the barely-there plot.
The pace of the second half slackens with a largely predictable cat-and-mouse game between Muthuvel and Varman, and the comedy sometimes feels stretched. The twist adds some spice but because the emotional core of the film is underdeveloped, you don’t feel punched in the gut. The ending, therefore, leaves you unmoved even if it is an interesting departure from Tamil cinema’s obsession with lineage and inheritance.
Jailer is paisa vasool entertainment, and after the misfires that Darbar (2020) and Annaatthe (2021) proved to be, Rajinikanth fans are going to be very happy with Tiger ka hukum. The beast is back.
Discover the latest Business News, Sensex, and Nifty updates. Obtain Personal Finance insights, tax queries, and expert opinions on Moneycontrol or download the Moneycontrol App to stay updated!