Just fan-o-menon. Period.

Nonika Singh

If you are a North Indian used to the star charisma of three Khans and occasionally of Akshay Kumar and Hrithik Roshan, you do understand the magnetic pull of personality cult driving cinema. Still the frenzy that surrounds demigod Rajinikanth and his latest Kabali, is inexplicable. For days at a stretch the craze around Kabali has been building into a crescendo and reaching a feverish pitch. The facts are as astounding as the fan-o-mania.

So, succumbing to the hype bordering on hysteria, we too find ourselves in the dubbed version of Kabali giving the more meaningful Madari a miss. Rajinikanth phenomena must be decoded. But can one film that too full on formulaic revenge drama unravel what makes him the sensation that he is?

Not belonging to any of his fan clubs, sparring or otherwise, it's impossible for us to understand what the fuss is all about. Here is an ageing star, nay super duper superstar. That he is playing his age to some extent is a relief.  So, for most part of the film he is the grey- haired gangster, old enough to be the father of grown up children. In the film he keeps reminding--had his wife lived, he would have been a father to one. That the daughter is lurking close by is only expected. After all if Kabali is invincible so ought to be his family. Sorry for the giveaway but then in a film peppered with endless fights, actually there is very little room for surprise or credible storyline.

The maker’s intent is rather ambitious as it takes you into the heart of Malaysia where Indians (read Tamilians) are led by gangster- type leaders. Kabali is one such leader with his heart in the right place. The narrative moves back and forth to establish the inter-gang rivalry with snatches of his past life.  All along, there is so much happening that you lose count of the characters which are way too many. 

Amidst the melee filters Radhika Apte, looking ravishingly pretty as always. This would certainly not go down as her best performance but her presence is as sunny as her smile. As for Thalaivar Rajini, the trademark mannerisms and the signatures styles are in place. The flick here a gesture there and the trappings of his larger than life persona are endearing enough. He carries off his character, despite the implausibility of it all, rather well. And if you are a Rajini fan and are watching the film in its original language the words you might like to use are aplomb and panache. 

Dubbing, rather mediocre at that, does sap the flavour. The punch-lines are reduced to just one bahoot khoob. Can we say the same about the film? Well, the editing that intercuts scenes rather adroitly is top notch. The first half moves at a frenzied pace and leaves you with little time to think or wink. Post interval, the same wanders off and gives you more of the same that you have seen ad-nauseam before. You begin to feel fidgety and two-and-a-half hour’s length doesn’t help. Sure there is craft in this masala, bits of art too, but as you keep chasing the characters zoom from Malaysia to Thailand to Pondicherry, it gets tiring. More so since you know exactly how the film will eventually pan out. 

The open-ended finale is a bit unexpected though. Or, perhaps not? The madness around the film does demand a sequel and the window that is left open, does portend one. The big question --should you watch this one?

For Rajni fans, who know no reason, only idol worship, reviews matter not. And if you are on the other side of the fence, well, at best the film throws some light over his magnetic personality if not fully explain what makes him the ‘divine being’ whose posters too are considered worthy of milk abhishekam.