Maamannan review: A well-meaning but rudimentary film from Mari Selvaraj
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Right after the release of Kabali, Pa Ranjith was asked why the scenes of Rajinikanth sitting in a chair are shot with such pomp. Ranjith replied, “It is made to be a big deal to sit in front of you all, right?” The anchor, who was sitting in front of Ranjith, smiled in reply. A chair to sit, a basic courtesy, has been denied to many. When the eponymous hero in Maamannan faces similar disrespect, it results in a war between the oppressor and the oppressed. It is then about the ascent of Maamannan (King of kings), who ends up in the most respected chair in the state of Tamil Nadu. In retrospect, the core story of the film sounds brilliant, but the problem with Mari Selvaraj’s third movie is that it has very less going for itself other than this one brilliant idea. The director’s first film, Pariyerum Perumal, was the perfect marriage of form and content. In Maamannan, while the idea reigns supreme, the execution and the writing makes this the weakest of Mari Selvaraj’s films so far.
Even the aforementioned conflict arrives too late in the game after a tedious set-up that’s basic and unbecoming of the director. The problem between Maamannan (Vadivelu) and his son Adhiveeran (Udhayanidhi Stalin), the romance between Veeran and Leela (Keerthy Suresh), and all other introductions are pretty plain and tepid. It feels like Mari wants to get done with all these peripherals and get to the real story. What’s more disappointing is the depiction of the antagonist, Rathnavel (Fahadh Faasil). Despite Fahadh Faasil’s effective performance, his character comes across as a one-dimensional power-hungry villain that we have seen many times before. Rathnavel raises dogs for races and butchers the ones that lose. He treats men the same way. Though he belongs to a party that stands for social justice, to Rathnavel, it is just a tool to hold on to power. While Mari tries to add many layers to this character, he remains flat. Time and again, we keep seeing him beating either a dog or a human. And his crimes, even murder, don’t have a consequence. One wouldn’t bat an eye if this happened in a run-of-the-mill commercial film, but it is disappointing to see such generic writing in Maamannan.
The symbolism–a strong suit of Mari–in Maamannan is in excess and on the face. While Rathnavel owns hunting dogs, Athiveeran has pigs. Veeran even has a pig tattoo on his hand. When Leela asks why he is very fond of them, Veeran says, “I don’t know. I just like them.” It doesn’t take much to figure out why he adores pigs of all animals. It is the stigma attached to it. The disgust the animal evokes in society. What’s the point of such symbolism, when it lacks nuance? Keerthy Suresh is like the Che Guevara printed t-shirt she keeps wearing in the film. She comes across as a virtue signal of the filmmaker, who wants to make her relevant to the story. However, she doesn’t have much going on for her in the film except for her screen presence and a few dialogues. Talking of dialogues, they are shockingly plain and in sync with the pedestrian nature of the film. The best example of such poor lines comes from the students who gather outside Veeran’s house in support of Maamannan. Suddenly, it felt like we are in AR Murugadoss’ universe.
A redeeming factor of Maamannan is the cross-sectional view of politics in Tamil Nadu and its complexities. Though Maamannan’s party stands for social justice, it is also flawed as it has a monster like Rathnavel as part of it. It shows how caste plays a vital role in winning elections even for a party that stands for social justice. The flag, the name, and a lot about the fictional party in the film come across as stand-ins for Dravida Munnetra Kazhgam. It shouldn’t be surprising if Maamannan is called out as a propaganda film for Udhayanidhi’s party.
As far as the performances go, Vadivelu is effortlessly convincing as a sombre and brooding politician, and not for a moment, we are reminded of his iconic comedy roles. Unfortunately, even his performance doesn’t make up for the tiring screenplay. The issue with Maamannan is not that something is wrong. The problem is the lack of something… something substantial.
Kirubhakar Purushothaman is a Principal Correspondent with Indian Express and is based out of Chennai. He has been writing about Tamil cinema and a bit about OTT content for the past eight years across top media houses. Like many, he is also an engineer-turned-journalist from Tamil Nadu, who chose the profession just because he wanted to make cinema a part of his professional life.
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Vadivelu and Udhayanidhi Stalin in Maamannan.