Manoj Kumar

I recently watched this Kannada film called Su from So. It’s written and directed by a debut filmmaker, J. P. Thuminad and produced by Raj Shetty, and has surprisingly turned into a huge hit. The film has gone from regional obscurity to almost a national sensation. What struck me most is its vibe; it feels very much like modern Malayalam cinema. Easygoing, not trying to be grand or over-ambitious, but simply a filmmaker telling a story with a camera. And that simplicity is part of its charm. At its heart, Su from So is about small-town lives. How everyone’s closely knit, and how even the tiniest incidents become the biggest entertainment in the predictable rhythm of everyday life. The story is anchored by two characters, Ravi Anna (Shaneel Gautham), a respected, unmarried man in the village, and a younger guy Ashoka (played by J. P. Thuminad, yes the director) who has a crush on a local girl.

I’ll be honest — I had developed superhero fatigue. In fact, a general fatigue for anything big-scale and action-driven on the big screen. A movie that fit that bill was not my obvious choice. And looking at how juggernauts like Coolie (starring Superstar Rajinikanth) and War 2 (with Jr NTR and Hrithik Roshan) received underwhelming responses, it seems I’m not alone. So when I first saw the trailer of Lokah: Chapter 1 — Chandra, my reaction was: “Not the movie I want to watch right now.” Look at the films that have actually struck a chord with audiences recently — without over-the-top marketing or manufactured FOMO. From Tourist Family to Dragon, Thudarum to Hridayapoorvam, and even Soup from So — audiences have embraced heartfelt, emotional stories. That goes against the post-COVID “wisdom” that only large-scale spectacles will sell tickets.

I watched Hridayapoorvam, the latest Malayalam film starring Mohanlal and directed by Sathyan Anthikad. Sathyan is one of those rare filmmakers who know how to turn everyday life into cinema that feels honest, entertaining, and deeply relatable. At a time when the industry is obsessed with big blockbusters, massive sets, and larger-than-life heroics, here comes a film that quietly wins you over with storytelling, humour, and heart. The film is, in a way, a Malayalam version of The 40-Year-Old Virgin. But don’t mistake that for awkward gags or over-the-top comedy. This is The 40-Year-Old Virgin reimagined with our sensibility — sensitive, clean, and packaged with humour that a family audience can comfortably enjoy. Mohanlal plays a middle-aged, unmarried man, Sandeep, who undergoes a heart transplant. His life takes an unexpected turn when he meets the family of his donor — a widow Devika (Sangita Madhavan Nair), and her daughter, Haritha (Malavika Mohanan). Sathyan sets up a delicate, almost taboo situation: a man who has never really known female attention suddenly finds himself at the receiving end of affection from two women — one closer to his age, and the other much younger.

Superstar Rajinikanth’s latest movie Coolie is trash! At least, that’s what the general consensus among reviewers seems to be. There are reports about falling footfalls, defying earlier expectations of it becoming Tamil cinema’s 1000-crore grosser. But if we set aside these endless discussions about ticket sales — which, let’s face it, none of us have any stake in — our financial fate won’t change, no matter how many crores the movie makes. Why would we give even a two-hoot about a film’s commercial success? That’s a discussion for another day. Coming back to Coolie, I initially refused to read any reviews or listen to anyone’s opinions. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t avoid stumbling upon multiple negative takes. The headlines all said the same thing: “Coolie is a huge disappointment.” “Lokesh Kanagaraj fails to deliver on expectations.” Memes and posts across social media screamed the same.

I didn’t get to catch Thug Life in theatres, thanks to the controversy sparked by Kamal Haasan’s comments about the Tamil-Kannada language connection. It didn’t get a theatrical release in Karnataka. In hindsight, it was a poorly thought-out statement that ignited a pointless feud between two neighbouring states. But that’s a saga for another blog. Thug Life is now on Netflix, and I finally watched it. Short version: I’m disappointed. Not just because it’s a dull slog — though it absolutely is — but because I could see the glimmer of potential in the material Mani Ratnam had in his head, yet he didn’t go all in. It feels like Mani Ratnam and Kamal Haasan had a mid-production crisis of confidence, veering off into drastic detours that left us with a film stuffed with half-baked artistic flourishes.

Suriya was left bruised and bloodied — figuratively speaking — after the release of his much-hyped film Kanguva. Years of promotions pitched it as Tamil cinema’s answer to Baahubali, setting up massive expectations among audiences. But when the film finally released, it fell woefully short of delivering on that promise. To make matters worse, it became a target of a systematic and persistent online attack that further ensured its disastrous box office run. Kanguva’s failure was especially brutal — it visibly shook Suriya’s confidence. That uncertainty was evident in the way he promoted Retro. He avoided overhyping it, spoke cautiously, and refrained from the aggressive push we’ve seen from him in the past. Once bitten, twice shy, right?

Mithya is an intimate story of a young boy struggling to make sense of his life, which has been shattered into countless pieces after his parents pass away. It marks director Sumanth Bhat’s feature film debut. Previously, he helmed the Kannada web series Ekam, also co-produced by Rakshit Shetty. Mithya sheds light on the internal turmoil of an 11-year-old boy, Mithun. Taken in by his aunt’s family after his mother dies by suicide — leaving him and his younger sister orphaned — he is uprooted from Mumbai, where he was born and raised, and placed in the slow, quiet countryside of Udupi. He prefers to be called Mithya, but adjusting to his new reality is far from easy.

If you saw the poster for The Brutalist, featuring Adrien Brody squinting his eyes, staring straight at you in a low-angle shot, cigarette in mouth, with streaks of fire flying across, you might take him for an Italian-American gangster. Especially since The Brutalist sounds like the perfect title for a gangster flick, set in late 1950s America, adding to its vibe as the ultimate land of freedom and wild wealth. But The Brutalist isn’t that. It’s about architecture — big, heavy, concrete-and-steel stuff. These imposing structures mirror the post-World War II psyche. For those untouched by the war’s direct traumas, these brutalist buildings might feel cold and uninviting, even ugly. But for those who have endured the dehumanising horrors of war, they represent something deeply intimate.