Vignesh Madhu

It’s disappointing, or rather disheartening, to see films that are promising enough to be game-changers succumb to the ‘second half curse’ that’s been plaguing our mainstream cinema for a while now. i, Nobody is the latest entrant to this unfortunate club of films that take off to soaring heights only to come crashing down by the end. But on a positive note, this is not a film that runs out of ideas; it’s pregnant with potential even when the wheels start coming off. It simply crumbles under the weight of its ambitions.

Ananthan Kaadu begins with an extensive sequence of mass violence, much like writer Murali Gopy’s previous film L2: Empuraan. If Empuraan opened with disturbing visuals inspired by the Godhra riots, the lens this time turns towards the brutality inflicted on Tamil civilians during the Sri Lankan Civil War. The camera shows little restraint as helpless people, including children, are lined up and shot at point-blank range, women are assaulted, and makeshift homes are set ablaze. Among the victims is the protagonist’s mother.

Balan is an unusual ode to motherhood. The mother at its centre is nothing like the women we are accustomed to seeing in our cinema — she is neither an all-giving angel nor a noble soul overflowing with love and compassion. Instead, she is grim, reticent, wily and manipulative. Yet, she remains a remarkable mother on her own terms, and that is perhaps her only real identity.

What makes Georgekutty a fascinating character and a fan favourite? He’s an ordinary man with only a fourth-standard education, employing all his wits to outsmart the state’s entire police force for years with one objective — protecting his family at any cost. This ‘anything for family’ thread continues to be the backbone of the Drishyam franchise. The first two parts saw Georgekutty operating at the peak of his powers — devising ingenious plans to build an alibi, waiting patiently for years with backup strategies, and constantly anticipating what would come next. But at what cost?

Athiradi is a loud film in every sense of the word. The characters are loud. The music is loud. And with the story unfolding against the backdrop of a campus festival, the ambience is naturally loud too. There’s a restless, crazy energy to the film, driven majorly by editor Chaman Chakko, who steps on the gas every time the narrative threatens to slow down. His flashy, fancy cuts give the film the pace and rhythm of an extended Instagram reel. But that also means Athiradi trades emotional intensity and character depth for spectacle and set pieces, resulting in a shallow yet enjoyable youthful entertainer that still gives enough bang for the buck.

When newly recruited Sub-Inspector Vijay Radhakrishnan (Shane Nigam) takes charge at the Kuzhinilam police station, things look all bright and pleasant in the hills. Barring occasional scuffles among locals, the station has no major history of crime, making it an ideal posting for a newcomer to ease into the gritty world of law enforcement. However, it doesn’t take long before Vijay’s worst nightmares come true as a series of gruesome crimes are reported back-to-back in the locality. Three murders and a bank robbery, and Vijay’s efficiency is straightaway in question. He has a point to prove.