Review of Thalaivaa / Leader (more like Talai-Vali / Headache), a 2013 Tamil movie starring Vijay
Tamil AL Vijay’s Thalaivaa has sparked controversy after Chennai cinemas, which originally intended to play the film, received bomb threats, causing an absence in the first week of its release. However, it has come to a movie theater in the quaint but economically flourishing town of Vadodara, my hometown. And my brothers, or rather bros, in Chennai, they consider themselves saved (except for that poor fan-boy who committed suicide after his idol Vijay’s movie (that is, the main actor and not AL Vijay, the director) didn’t see a release in Chennai. Brother, one piece of advice: there are better things that are worth giving up life for! Because the movie is such a damn ridiculous piece of trash that it should be kept out of human reach. Here’s another piece of advice , this time for Tamil Nadu’s chief minister, Jayalalitha, whom actor Vijay has approached to approve his film for Chennai cinemas: don’t listen to him! Instead, do this: install gas chambers like the ones They are used in the concentration camps of WWII and kill about a million people. Install a nuclear plant in the center of the city and fix it. You will probably see your name next to Hitler’s, but if you make the mistake more serious to release this movie in the city you run, consider your precious CM seat occupied! In the first case, you would be a dictator and yet you would not lose your precious ‘kursi’ (seat) …
I believe that an SRK Karnan has petitioned the Chennai High Court claiming that the film portrays the lives of his father and grandfather, two social leaders in the Dharavi area, a slum in Mumbai, in a very unflattering way. by distorting the facts. and depicting the two men as capos and thugs. His request would likely be rejected, but if he makes another claim that his lineage is portrayed as cheeky idiots, he would likely win the claim. Thalaivaa is not a biopic. Nor is it about “the people”, as the protagonists of the film often affirm. It is not about Anna, who, if Karnan’s claim is true, has been based on her grandfather. It’s not about Karnan’s father either. It’s about the idiotic hero Vijay. His screen time and close-ups confirm this. He dances, has romances, sings, jokes, scoops dishum-dishum (fight) and a poor Robert Di Nero impersonation in The Godfather and Abhishek Bachchan in Ram Gopal Varma’s Sarkar / Sarkar Raj, whenever he has free time. Of all the dances and romances and swoons
He’s an aspiring dad / gift. The film itself is an aspiring godfather, a Sarkar aspiring, a typical Indian romance wannabe (but with a twist), and sometimes even an ABCD wannabe (Prabhudeva’s movie about dance). He spends much of his time worshiping his hero Vijay, to the point where he kills Anna’s character (competently played by Sathyaraj) quite quickly. Little time is wasted in revealing his true intentions to become another on the never-ending list of forgettable kitsch ‘romance-drama-action’ money spinners being thrown into mass audiences by Kollywood and Bollywood. Sathyaraj, playing Anna, is a former coolie who eventually becomes the protector of the honest dwellers of the Dharavi slums by serving justice through violence and force. But the movie relegates him to a shadow, one that pops up occasionally to tell his son how busy he is, as soon as Vijay walks in. He plays Melbourne-based Anna NRI’s son Vishwa, and the film abruptly changes from a very serious drama to a joke comedy. Comedian Santharam teams up as Vishwa’s friend Logu to push the film’s path of self-destruction, and for a while we have the unappetizing feeling of watching ‘Sarkar + Comedy.’
Love interest Meera (played by brunette beauty Amala Paul) enters and the movie goes into ‘romance mode’, spending almost an hour before we exclaim “Oh my God! What happened to the original plot?” (that comes just before the interval so you can be bold enough and try to ask if you can come after the interval and pay half the price of the ticket. I wouldn’t recommend that either as things get even worse after the interval) . Vishwa and Meera enter a dance contest and win, overcoming obstacles such as being attacked by their competitors. But why are these things important in a movie about Dharavi, his people, and his self-appointed leaders? Why the hell would I ever think of including a series of comedy sketches, one involving a cook who can’t cook, another about a group of single men in Melbourne pining for Meera, and the third involving Meera lying about her marriage. with a seedy-looking B-? movie star grade, would that be a good idea? Because they do absolutely nothing to promote the plot, and they last as long as durx condoms. And how ridiculous is it for a movie to forget itself, jump from drama to comedy to romance, and come back only to kill Anna’s character, poor Anna in a car explosion? And hearing Vishwa and Logu calling each other ‘Brother’ every time because, you know, they’re in Melbourne and all that, it’s almost painful. Just imagine hearing something like: A- ‘Brother …’ B- ‘No, brother …’ A- ‘Of course, brother’ B- ‘Brother!’, (10x).
Twists before the second half: Meera and her father turn out to be undercover policemen after visiting Mumbai along with Vishwa on the pretext of arguing with Anna about Vishwa’s marriage to Meera, and a guy named Bhima who claims responsibility for killing Anna to avenge hers. murder of the father (Anna had killed a hate monger named Varadarajan Mudaliar in the past). Bhima is really a weirdo – he meditates by chanting Anna’s name (then Vishwa’s; actually, the words chanted during meditation help relaxation, so it’s hard to understand how chanting the villain’s name will increase animosity towards that one. topic: strange spirituality) and it sounds like a bad one. cyborg, credit a horrible dubbing (performed by Abhimanyu Singh, a punjabi puttar from pucca). Meanwhile, Vishwa spends his time channeling his inner Sylvester Stallone / Salman Khan, beating men after men with raw energy, or drinking bhaang and making masti (fun). The condition of this film after the interval changes from trash to dirt to outright atrocity. A song from the movie says “Thalapathy Thalapathy”; meanwhile, you would be experiencing a great deal of talai-vali (headache). I recommend a CT scan after watching this movie.
If Thalaivaa is the 2013 movie, then it is a clear indication that it is the Middle Ages for Tamil cinema. This movie doesn’t deserve the controversy it’s getting (controversy = publicity = ka-ching!). The multiplex I visited usually plays too many advertisements. This time I wanted a little more. The movie, however, takes years to reach a point and it still doesn’t have any impact. Now why would you sit for three hours mindlessly?