Let’s say a friend of yours is desperate for funds. You could help him out in a number of ways – approaching a moneyed family member, perhaps, or looking out for a loan. Instead, you recruit a couple of buddies and hatch a plan to rob the local bank. Things go well, until they don’t. The cops land up. A shootout ensues. You’re hurt. Your buddies are inflicted with major bodily harm. Yet, you get the loot, and you give it to your friend. Mission accomplished. But it isn’t over. The cops, desperate to retrieve the money, threaten your loved ones, one of whom ends up dead. But it’s worth it, you think, because your friend has the funds he needed. He’s set. Your life – and the lives of your buddies – limps back to normal. And then you discover that your friend has decided to renounce all things worldly, head to the hills in search of answers. He donates the funds to charity, the funds you and those around you suffered so much to obtain for him. What would you do?
You’d be angry, of course, but there’s little that can be done about a decision someone else has made. Plus, no one arm-twisted you to rob a bank. That was your harebrained scheme, and you knew it entailed danger, and there’s no one to blame for the unfortunate turn of events but yourself. But if you’re the protagonist (Rishi, played by Jackky Bhagnani) of Priyadarshan’s Rangrezz, you blame the friend, and set about exacting revenge. You grab him by the collar and scream, “How dare you live your life the way you want, changing your mind about what you want?” The issue, here, isn’t funds but love – the friend wants to get married to this girl, and their families vehemently oppose the match. But the borderline-fascist implication that people have to abide by the decisions they make in life, and those decisions can never ever be rethought, is the same. It’s chilling that this generation – the one with the most freedom to change its mind, unlike earlier ones, where your life was pretty much determined for you by your parents – should see such a story.
I hated the Tamil original Naadodigal, but at least that film was set in a somewhat rustic milieu where such attitudes – towards friendship, towards love, towards life – could be expected. And you reasoned out the characters’ behaviour saying that their outrage was fuelled by the realisation that they’ve suffered so much for nothing. But instead of pursuing this very personal angle, the film got carried away with overarching messages about friendship, love, life. By the end, it was practically a manual of nauseating behavioural codes. The Hindi version, set in Mumbai, is even harder to digest, given Priyadarshan’s style of long-winded exposition, filled with clunky, idiomatic dialogue and hysterical melodrama. “Dosti ke liye mujhe yeh karna padega,” Rishi says, with smug self-righteousness, and you want to grab him by the collar and scream, “What kind of friend are you if you cannot understand that your friend has the right to lead his own life, and not the one you want him to lead?”
Copyright ©2013 Baradwaj Rangan. This article may not be reproduced in its entirety without permission. A link to this URL, instead, would be appreciated.
Baradwaj Rangan 
Vasisht Das
March 24, 2013
“I hated the Tamil original Naadodigal, but at least that film was set in a somewhat rustic milieu where such attitudes – towards friendship, towards love, towards life – could be expected.”
plus the relentless screaming, shouting, tears, bullying, suicides, speechyfying and the added perungayam of random sado-masochistic behaviour peculiar to Tamizh cinema.
the diabetes-inducing cheeni-cum of Hindi cinema vs. the depression-inducing darkness of cinemadurai…ptchah.
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thepuccacritic
March 24, 2013
Would love to read your thoughts on Kai Po Che.
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Arun
March 25, 2013
I think you misunderstood Nadodigal, BR. The friends don’t become enraged because the couple split, but because they didn’t give themselves a CHANCE to make the marriage work. Of course there’s no way of knowing if they did indeed have genuine issues, but from the narration’s point of view, they split over minor differences. I agree the film took itself too seriously and harangued a bit too much about morality, but I think you misunderstood why the friends turned furious upon knowing the couple had gone separate ways.
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vinjk
March 25, 2013
“I hated the Tamil original Naadodigal, but at least that film was set in a somewhat rustic milieu where such attitudes – towards friendship, towards love, towards life – could be expected.”
Tamil cinema always had this over the top display of friendship and loyalty even anger and violence. Most of my Tamil friends are highly emotional…so sometimes I’ve felt the people are like that hence their cinema too
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brangan
March 25, 2013
Arun: But who says they didn’t give the marriage a chance? To me, it seemed very patronising and presumptuous for the hero to say that the couple didn’t give the marriage a chance. Only a couple knows what’s happening in a relationship, and no one else has the right to judge them — especially to the extent of punishing them.
If you’re upset about how your efforts were in vain, then that’s one thing. But to claim that your efforts were in aid of this great noble institution of marriage that was so callously treated — as you seem to be saying — is unconscionable. Then you’ve become some sort of vigilante panchayat system 🙂
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sachita
March 25, 2013
Aiyooo nadodigal was atrocious not just on the plotline alone. Infact I find the praise samuthrakani receives not just undeserving but criminal.
And when likes of Bala say they liked Nadodigal, you realize it is such a widespread malice.
Btw, I was search for a very early interview you had with Bala(one & only one), I am not able to locate it in your archives.
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Arun
March 25, 2013
@BR: No Im not defending marriage as an institution, am only saying the movie’s thrust was that the couple split up over minor differences, thus disregarding the effort that went into getting them married. Obviously you can’t hold the couple responsible for someone losing his leg and another his hearing ability in the process because, as you’ve said, the friends knew things could get nasty when they signed up for this. But the couple did know what happened to their mates in the end, and the least they could’ve done is explain to them, when the quartet try to meet them, why they separated.
It is THIS apparent callousness that enrages the friends. When they go to meet them, seeking an explanation, they can’t even give them the time of day.
As I said, we don’t know if the couple had indeed had serious issues, as the narration says they split up because they couldn’t face the reality of everyday life. I know it’s a very convenient excuse to justify the moralistic preaching of the hero in the end, but that’s the movie as it is. I think you’re confusing what the movie SHOULD’VE BEEN with what the movie WAS.
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Paro
March 25, 2013
wish u had reviewed Kai Po che. After a long break, happy to read so many reviews. But still miss ur views on Kai po che
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Raj Balakrishnan
March 25, 2013
Nadodi was a terrible follow-up to Subramaniapuram. SasI kumar is a one film wonder, he has gone from bad to worse after Spuram. However, eesan was ok. Baradwaj, will we be reading your take on django soon?
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brangan
March 26, 2013
Raj Balakrishnan: Among the films Sasikumar acted in, “Sundarapandiyan” wasn’t bad. In the director-turned-actor department, I find Samuthrakani’s films more unbearable. “Saattai” was awful, and even in “Neerparavai” his bit had a lot of messagey undertones. He sure does love lecturing people on screen 🙂
Writing a column around “Django Unchained” this weekend, not a review though.
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Padawan
March 26, 2013
Finally, about Django Unchained! And, why not a full fledged review?
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venkatesh
March 26, 2013
This “director -> actor?” trajectory is littered with people with sub-standard follow-up efforts. can;t think of one director who has been able to successfully straddle both sides of it.
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vpjaiganesh
March 27, 2013
Sundara paandiyan is surprisingly good – who would have thought of making a movie on julius caesaar in madurai-theni-kambam milieu? That director is one smart kid.. NaadOdigaLLL begins beautifully with the characters set up nicely – then it becomes 6th standard moral instruction lesson – only that it is not being taught by your teacher – but by the back bench bully on virtues of foolish friendship… but still enjoyable for some of the supporting cast and sub plots (that vijaykanth imitating namo venkatesh track was goood).
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Shankar
March 27, 2013
RIP Sukumari.
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fijisuva
March 28, 2013
You raise a very interesting analogy — borrowing money vs helping for marriage. I tend to agree with your argument here (although I can also sympathise with Arun).
“What kind of friend are you if you cannot understand that your friend has the right to lead his own life, and not the one you want him to lead?” — indeed, not the most ideal!
Looking at the bigger picture, however, can’t you not be entertained by a film while disagreeing with its central philosophy? Like how — for example — one could be annoyed by the colour filter chosen for a film but could still end up liking and enjoying the movie.
In other words, what I am trying to say is, whether or not you agree with the central philosophy of a film is but one of the several dimensions which contribute to ones liking of the film — dimensions such as music, acting, camera, colour etc. etc.
How much each dimension is weighted is, of course, subjective — even random sometimes (as you’ve observed before in this blog).
This, however, leads to the following question. As a reviewer — whose primary “duty” is to provide enough information for the audience to decide whether or not they’ll like the movie — do you think you need to (learn to?) balance these weights?
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raj
March 28, 2013
“RIP Sukumari”
Shankar, already she is dead and all and you want to rip her also-vA now?
(My pet usage-related-peeve is ppl wanting to RIP dead ppl.)
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