"No other artform can fixate time like cinema" - Andrei Tarkovsky
The opening shot of the film is an 8-minute long, continuous shot that walks you through the aftermath of a train bombing incident. The shot took me by surprise not only because of how gruesome it was but also because of its cinematic flair. It is as if the continuous shot is alluding to the never-ending suffering of the victims.
In another scene, the camera follows two people trekking a mountain starts and it slowly starts zooming out and it keeps zooming out until the two people vanish in front of the immensity of the mountain. The drone shot symbolically conveys the insignificance of humans by juxtaposing them against the mighty mountain.
It is unusual to see such cinematic gimmicks (I mean it in a non-pejorative way) in Vetrimaaran’s films. Vetrimaaran does not use this cinematic flair to take a break from building the story, however. Instead, he uses it to elevate the storytelling. And boy is it one unflinchingly realistic and gritty story.
The film is rife with realism. A seemingly petty ego clash between Soori and the OC has far-reaching consequences for the people of the village - which is the kind of butterfly effect that would unfold in real life. The police are not shown as one-dimensional cruel villains, they are simply slaves to the commands of the higher officials and to politics. Their plight is also pitiful - they do not have a proper roof over their beds, and they always get the boring chow-chow for lunch (which makes for a great running joke in an otherwise dark film). These touches make the film feel grounded and the story feel real. It is as if the creators took a real story and instead of making a documentary, chose to make a movie out of it.
The organic love story that blossoms between Soori’s character and Bhavani’s character is incredibly touching. The scene where she gives him food when he was denied any food at all in the police camp will melt your heart. However, the love songs were unnecessary, unremarkable, and unquestionably the dullest moments of the film. I caught myself reaching for my phone when the songs came on and thought to myself “Wow I just wanted to scroll through my phone in a Vetrimaaran film”. Other than that, Ilayaraja’s score was spot on.
Soori’s talent shines through in this film. So convincing is his performance that you forget you are watching a film. Instead, you are entirely lost in Soori’s story. You don’t feel like he is an actor portraying a character. He is the character. I especially felt this in the scene where he is desperately running from building to building to save his lover from harassment and torture by the police. The static, wide-angle shot makes you feel the helplessness he would be feeling. The image of him in his white tee shirt and khaki trousers running from one building to another in the sprawling police camp is etched in my mind.
Vetrimaaran does not resort to surrealism to give you mass moments. Instead, in classic Vetrimaaran fashion, he uses the subtleties of the real world to set up mass moments. An example is the scene where Soori says "Aama, adipen sir". In that sense, the film is not only about the viduthalai of a village from police brutality and capitalism, but it is also about the viduthalai of mass scenes - you don't need fancy slo-mo shots, drone shots, and epic score for a scene to give you the chills. Just Soori earnestly saying "Aama, adipen sir" or a naked Vijay Sethupathi saying “You feel that we are equals only after you strip me naked?” is mass too.
The political ideology in the film is problematic. Vetrimaaran does the mistake of conflating a solution with the implementation of the solution. It is a basic macroeconomic truth that a country that promotes FDI does better in terms of economic progress. Opening a factory in a locality boosts employment in that area. People in that area get a stable income that allows them to purchase nutritious food, afford education for their children, and so on. Because they have a stable income, they now have better credit borrowing capacity. Banks can lend them money and they no longer have to rely on local loan sharks. Opening a factory is a solution to the poverty problem. The film, instead of criticizing the means of implementing this solution, makes the mistake of criticizing the solution itself. Note that this is in no way a criticism of the film; this is more of a disagreement with the ideology of the film.
Nevertheless, Viduthalai: Part 1 is Vetrimaaran’s most ambitious attempt at taking his favorite type of stories mainstream. And I can’t wait to see part 2.