Idli Kadai Tamil Film Review - An Emotional Feast with a Side of Illogical Plot

'Idli Kadai' is a film that demands a specific kind of viewing: one that leaves logic at the door. The plot revolves around two contrasting fathers and their sons. The first father, despite his low income running a traditional idli kadai in a village, successfully raises a good, grounded son, the hero. Conversely, the rich father who owns a big hotel abroad has a spoiled son. The grounded son works at the rich father's hotel and is set to marry the daughter.

The core dramatic conflict arises when the village father dies just before the marriage. The son comes to village to carry out last rites of his father. After that the son cancels the wedding to uphold his father's legacy by taking over the idli shop. This choice pits the emotional value of the humble idli shop against the promise of a lavish foreign life. This decision, coupled with the initial, hard-to-believe love trajectory—moving from childhood sweethearts to a workplace romance, and then a sudden return to the first love—forms the weakest and most illogical foundation of the narrative.

The film attempts to connect the symbolic 'taste of idli' (representing home and comfort) to the 'taste of the father' (legacy and tradition), utilizing a mere costume change to bridge this emotional gap.

The film boasts a powerhouse ensemble including Dhanush, Shalini Pandey, Arun Vijay, Rajkiran, Geetha Kailasam, R. Parthiban, Samuthirakani, Sathyaraj, Illavarau, Prakash Raj, Vadivukkarasi and Aadukalam Naren. However, the saving grace and the film's undeniable strength is the performance by Nithya Menen, who delivers a perfect and wonderful portrayal. She anchors the emotional chaos with authenticity, making her the key element that allows the audience to connect with the film's emotional frequency.

The saving grace and the film's undeniable strength is Nithya Menen’s performance. She delivers a perfect and wonderful performance, anchoring the emotional chaos with authenticity. Her portrayal is the key element that allows the audience to connect with the film's emotional frequency. Ultimately, the film’s sole victory lies in its ability to manipulate and resonate with audience emotions, even when its story structure is entirely illogical. 'Idli Kadai' is not a logical story, but it is a successful emotional experience.

Ultimately, the film’s sole victory lies in its ability to manipulate and resonate with audience emotions, even when its story structure is entirely illogical. 'Idli Kadai' is not a logical story, but it is a successful emotional experience.

Aan Pavam Pollathathu Review: A Missed Opportunity for Nuance

Aan Pavam Pollathathu tackles the highly relevant themes of male chauvinism and toxic feminism, a bold choice in contemporary cinema. However, the film struggles significantly to maintain a balanced perspective, ultimately failing to deliver the sophisticated commentary it clearly intended.

​The central conflict of the movie, as intended, is the imperfect dynamic between the genders. The critical flaw lies in its execution: whenever the script attempts to deconstruct male chauvinism, it inadvertently validates or encourages female toxicity, and vice versa. This seesaw approach means the film never achieves the "perfect blend" of critique, ending up feeling contradictory rather than nuanced. It attempts to critique two social ills but only succeeds in pitting them against each other without offering genuine insight or resolution.

​The film's pacing suffers severely after a strong start. The first half flows smoothly, establishing characters and conflict effectively, connecting well with the audience. However, the second part derails dramatically as the writers seemingly prioritize "enlightenment of couples." This manifests as long, dialogue-heavy sequences where the couples are meant to undergo a transformation towards enlightenment. Unfortunately, these drawn-out conversations break the natural narrative momentum, turning the film from an engaging story into a series of didactic lectures.

​Perhaps the most disappointing aspect is the audience reaction itself. The film has the perverse effect of generating applauses during lines that are explicitly male chauvinistic or, conversely, highly toxic and anti-male. This suggests a complete breakdown in the delivery of the intended message, as the audience is celebrating the very flaws the movie was meant to expose.

​In conclusion, Aan Pavam Pollathathu is watchable, but it is ultimately a deeply flawed execution of a promising concept. It failed to balance its dual critique and, in trying too hard to preach toward the end, lost its narrative integrity and the clarity of its original intention.

'Bison' Movie Review: When the Lion Writes Its Own Story

Directed by Mari Selvaraj and starring Dhruv Vikram, Pasupathy, and others, the film 'Bison' is not just a story of a Kabaddi player's journey to victory. It beautifully unfolds on screen as an important document symbolizing the life struggles of marginalized people.

The Lion Writing Its Own Story (A Revised Perspective)

The African proverb states: "Until the lion learns to write its own story, every story will glorify the hunter". However, the film presents a nuanced view:

"But even if the hunter writes the story of Bison, or if the lion writes it, the story will remain the same". This is a victory for Mari Selvaraj's storytelling skill.

The pain, suffering, and struggle of the oppressed people will not diminish, no matter what perspective they are written from. The core reality remains that the gravity of their anguish is constant.

The Deeper Meaning of 'Refuse to Submit' (Adanga Maru)

The phrase 'Adanga Maru' (Refuse to Submit) has been beautifully articulated with a deeper meaning in the film:

It clearly conveys the determination to 'refuse to submit' mentally, by not backing down from one's goal, regardless of failure, weariness, or setbacks.

Kittan's mental fortitude, as he runs towards his dream despite the pain caused by social pressures, demonstrates what a healthy 'refusal to submit' truly means.

The Shadow of Salya and Karna (Kittan's Valor)

In the Mahabharata, Salya, Karna's charioteer, speaks against Karna at Lord Krishna's instigation, causing him to lose his valor, but upon witnessing Karna's unparalleled sacrifice and heroism on the battlefield, Salya has a change of heart.

Similarly, in this film, the talent displayed by the Kabaddi player Kittan on the field ultimately causes those who opposed and doubted him to change their minds and side with him.

Kittan's story echoing the shades of the Salya-Karna narrative becomes a powerful symbol.

Pasupathy's Anxiety & Dhruv's Internal Struggle

Pasupathy's Performance: He has meticulously conveyed the feelings of a father's anxiety, tension, and fear—the desire for his son to be well and not get caught up in any police cases—through his eye movements and body language. He accurately reflects the perpetual fear of a father from the marginalized community.

Dhruv Vikram (Kittan): Dhruv fully embodies the role of the Kabaddi player dealing with mental stress (Depression). His acting, simultaneously expressing inner conflict and the fierce desire to achieve his goal, makes the audience journey along with the character. The moments where he expresses that mental stress are deeply imprinted in our minds.

Piercing Dialogues

The dialogues are not only sharp and clear in conveying the message. Expressing mental stress and the pain of the heart through the dialogues is a unique feature of Mari Selvaraj's style. The dialogues reminds the the Thirukkural:

“சொல்லுக சொல்லைப் பிறிதோர்சொல் அச்சொல்லை
வெல்லுஞ்சொல் இன்மை அறிந்து

Speak out your speech, when once 'tis past dispute
That none can utter speech that shall your speech refute.
Deliver your speech, after assuring yourself that no counter speech can defeat your own.”

Conclusion: Leaving with a Heavy Heart

The fact that we leave the theatre with a heavy heart is a testament to the emotional connection established by the screenplay. Kittan's mental stress is transferred to us. 'Bison' is not just a film; 'Bison' is the pain of a community, 'Bison' is a dream, and 'Bison' is a voice for liberation. It is a work of art that clearly recorded truths—a true document.

Dude Tamil Film Review

‎Imagine life as a big event hosted by an event management company. You walk in expecting fun, laughter, and surprises, maybe even a few pranks. But as the music fades and the lights dim, you start realising something deeper: life isn’t just about the show, it’s about the lessons hidden behind it. Dude tries to capture exactly that feeling.
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‎The movie follows a young man (Pradeep Ranganathan) who’s figuring out love, mistakes, and maturity while trying to play his part in life’s unpredictable drama. Showing that love is not just about saying “I love you,” but about understanding and patience. For sake of love one can go to any extend. The heroine (Mamitha Baiju) adds warmth and realism. 
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‎The first half is full of energy with jokes, youthful love, and relatable chaos. It feels like walking into a celebration, where everything is light and easy.
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‎The chemistry between Pradeep and Mamitha works well. Pradeep’s natural humor and Mamitha’s charm keep you watching.
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‎The film’s message stands out: Love isn’t perfect, and neither is life. Both are full of surprises that teach us who we really are.
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‎Some scenes feel disconnected like life. The story forgot where it started. 
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‎Just like life, not everything connects clearly and that’s both the beauty and the flaw of Dude.
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‎As life goes on, we learn lessons. Some through love, some through loss, and many through simple mistakes. The film reminds us that we can’t play our roles perfectly. Sometimes we laugh when we should listen, and sometimes we walk past the truth without noticing it.
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‎And here’s the real punch: just as many of us don’t know where our lives are going, we also don’t always know what the film is trying to tell us. It leaves us guessing, thinking, maybe even confused just like life does. The story isn’t about giving clear answers; it’s about showing that both life and love are puzzles we learn to solve slowly.
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‎In the end, Dude says one honest thing. Life is a prank. It won’t always surprise you in a good way, but it will always teach you something, even if you don’t understand it right away.
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‎Dude is a mix of fun, chaos, and quiet lessons. It may not be perfect, but neither are we. Watch it once, laugh at the jokes, feel the emotions, and listen carefully. because, hidden inside its confusion, it’s telling us something true about life.
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‎The film is imperfect, emotional, and a mirror to life’s funny, confusing surprises like our life we don't understand the lessons it gives.
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‎Beyond just being a love story, Dude also speaks about who truly decides whom to love. Is it the person, or the family, or the society. It touches on honour killing and its silent forms, showing how people are often trapped between love and social pressure. The film quietly asks how one can build a life while facing these unseen forces. Yet, like in life, many of us miss that deeper part in the film, maybe because it hides behind humour and simplicity, or because the film itself keeps a low profile about it.
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To act like a king, you must believe you are one.

There’s something called the Barnum Effect.
It’s when we hear things like “You have a big heart” or “You’re meant for something great” We believe them, even if they’re just vague words.

But maybe… that belief is where it all begins.

They say in theatre, “To act like a king, you must believe you are one.”

It’s not just about wearing a crown or standing tall. It’s about what you feel inside.

If you believe you are worthy, strong, and brave, the world will start to see it too.

Because the moment you start to believe in the good inside you,
you begin to live it,
you breathe it,
you become it.

And that’s how confidence is born. It's not by magic, but from the power of your own thoughts.

So don’t wait for someone else to call you special.
Tell yourself first.
Stand tall.
Walk proud.
Speak with heart.

To act like a king, you must believe you are one.
And when you do that the world will believe it too.

Review of “From Fanboys to Soldiers: The Politics of Following Without Thought” by Sivabalan Elangovan

Some articles come and go, but a few make us pause, reflect, and rethink the society we live in. Recently, I read one such piece that deserves to be shared and discussed.

When Fandom Replaces Responsibility: Reflections on The Wire’s Piece

I recently came across Sivabalan Elangovan’s article “From Fanboys to Soldiers: The Politics of Following Without Thought” published in The Wire, and I must say it is one of the most striking and thought-provoking pieces I have read in a long time. The writing style itself is marvellous—the introduction felt like the opening of a grand film, setting the tone with the flair of a star’s arrival.

One line that stayed with me was this: “No one cared if someone collapsed from heat or hunger, no one stopped to help.” This is not just an observation; it is a haunting question. Where is our humanity and empathy? If such indifference exists at mass gatherings, what happens when such individuals are entrusted with real power?

The article also forces us to re-examine the legacy of the self-respect and social justice movements. These were once powerful engines of transformation. Why do they seem weakened and ineffective today? What has been lost?

The author quotes: “Healthy adolescent growth requires three stages, self-awareness, identity formation and social responsibility.” Reading this, I could not help but wonder—which stage is missing in today’s generation? Perhaps parenting has failed to instill empathy, accountability, and critical thought with the same intensity as before.

Another compelling insight was about aggression. Too often, aggression is glorified as strength, when in fact, it is the killer of democracy, of independence, and of others’ rights. Aggression silences dialogue, weakens responsibility, and breeds intolerance. The question is: how do we reclaim a culture of thoughtfulness in an age dominated by spectacle and blind following?

The problem, as the article highlights, is not simply about Vijay or his fan base. Rather, they serve as an example of a larger social and political trend. That layered approach makes this piece powerful, and I rarely forward articles—but this one I personally shared with twenty people, individually, because it deserves such attention.

A suggestion I would add is for the author to write a follow-up comparing the DMK’s “whistle boys” during its formative years with today’s Vijay fan clubs. Such a comparison would not only be fascinating but also deeply illuminating in understanding how mobilization and fandom have shifted over time.

In sum, this article is more than journalism. It is a mirror held up to society—one that compels us to pause, reflect, and ask difficult but necessary questions. Kudos to Sivabalan Elangovan for writing with such clarity, courage, and impact.

Coolie - Review

Unusually for a Rajinikanth film, the emotional anchor is Preethi. 

Shurthi Hassan’s Preethi grounds the spectacle in human vulnerability. The film asks us to see events through her eyes. She is fragile, terrified, yet resilient.  

Rajinikanth balances stillness and eruption with calm presence with sudden bursts of action. Deva becomes both mentor and shield, but crucially, he doesn’t overshadow Preethi. Instead, he amplifies her significance, her fear, her survival, her very existence. 

Rajasekhar, played by Sathyaraj, was coerced into adapting his electric chair invention (originally for animal remains) to dispose of human victims is a chilling insight into the criminal underworld . 

Deva’s late reveals that he is part of a broader fight against a global trafficking network. He repositions the film from a personal vendetta to a collective struggle against systemic evil. His interventions are not just about saving Preethi, but about dismantling the machinery of exploitation represented by the chair, the trafficking ring, and the betrayal by those in power (like Dayal).

Shruti Haasan’s Preethi is a welcome departure from the trope of the invincible female hero. She’s grounded, vulnerable, and overall, refreshingly human. When the villain looms large and especially in her terror and body language of Preethi’s reactions are subtle. Her trembling hands, widened eyes, and hesitant steps speak volumes. There’s no manufactured “strength”; instead, we see a realistically fearful woman pushed into circumstances far beyond her control and it works. 

Watching the film through Preethi’s vantage point is akin to being led by a surrogate audience figure someone bewildered, scared, and suddenly responsible for her surviving family. It’s through her that we understand the macabre utility of the electric chair, originally invented by her father Rajasekhar.  

Nagarjuna’s portrayal of Simon delivers a quiet menace. His heart trafficking operations contextualize the gruesome evolution of the chair, and indirectly, Preethi’s own peril. 

Soubin Shahir’s Dayal erodes the line between protector and predator, revealing why Preethi becomes central after her father’s murder. 

Her knowledge of the chair, intended as a remnant of her late father’s work, becomes a bargaining chip in a danger she neither asked for nor understands. This juxtaposition, the innocuous girl versus the criminal underbelly is where Preethi’s character shines. 

Preethi’s realism makes her relatable; we feel her fear and her measured resolve. 
Shruti Haasan’s nuanced performance the small glances, hesitant motions communicates more than dialogue. 

Viewing the story from Preethi’s point of view ensures that the audience doesn’t detach from the escalating stakes. 

Yes, it’s ultimately, a Shruti Haasan film.