Don’t be fooled, Rajinikanth is the villain in TJ Gnanavel’s Vettaiyan, just as Jack Nicholson is in A Few Good Men

However, it cannot be said that the entire film conveys this opposition. Instead, Gnanavel has un/knowingly simply avoided committing to one side and appeased both supporters and opponents of encounter killings. A closer analysis of Vettaiyan also reveals that it ultimately isn’t opposed to extrajudicial killings and actually leans towards supporting the practice.

At the audio launch of Vettaiyan, Rajinikanth mentioned advising the director to introduce more commercial elements to ensure the film’s success — a suggestion Gnanavel eventually took on. Yet, the film contains elements that indicate Gnanavel and co-writer B Kiruthika aimed to critically examine encounter killings and not blatantly glorify them. Also since Athiyan denounces the practice at the end of the movie, we can infer that this was the makers’ basic stance. Nevertheless, in their attempt to “Rajinify” the script, they may have un/knowingly diluted its crux, resulting in a film that conveys a contradictory and problematic stance. Thus, Vettaiyan is also an example of how a creator’s intent and the final impact can end up being at odds with each other.

Let’s begin by examining Gnanavel’s intent. Before introducing Athiyan, the director cleverly presents Justice Sathyadev (Amitabh Bachchan) as he delivers a lecture to young officers about the inherent injustice and hypocrisy of encounter killings, highlighting how the police resort to this practice only when those from the lowered castes or economically disadvantaged backgrounds are the suspects. Sathyadev can be seen as a manifestation of Gnanavel’s own conscience, challenging Athiyan at various junctures and, at one point, telling the cop upfront that he is not the hero he believes himself to be.

Another indication of Gnanavel’s intent to condemn extrajudicial killings is his choice of a former judge — not a retired cop, journalist or human rights activist, but fundamentally a lawyer — as Athiyan’s foil. In a sense, Sathyadev is like an elder version of Advocate Chandru (Suriya) from Jai Bhim. Notably, Chandru retired as a real-life judge from the Madras High Court and Sathyadev is depicted as a retired judge from the Bombay HC.

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Conversely, while Athiyan’s sobriquet Vettaiyan means “hunter,” it is also the name of the ruthless king in Chandramukhi (2005). Considering that the latter blockbuster also starred Rajinikanth, it is unlikely that this connection escaped Gnanavel or the rest of the film’s team.

In one scene, Athiyan confronts a colleague for his casteist and colourist views, pointing out that, unlike the elites, the people his colleague looks down upon place immense value on relationships and would go to great lengths to help their dear ones.

Moreover, Athiyan also eventually realises that his encounter killing of Guna (Asal Kolaar), who had been accused of raping and murdering schoolteacher Saranya (Dushara Vijayan), can’t be dubbed just as a mistake but an outright murder, as Guna wasn’t the true culprit. In the climax, he refrains from taking matters into his own hands and brings the actual culprit(s) before the criminal justice system. In the final scene, Athiyan is seen in a lecture hall, much like Sathyadev’s intro scene, where he teaches young officers that the police are meant to be “protectors, not hunters,” thus allowing the narrative to come in full circle. Even with all these, the movie, as a whole, doesn’t reflect Gnanavel’s well-meaning intent and its impact thus becomes the exact opposite.

The title sequence of Vettaiyan itself gives us an early indication that the film might not be completely against extrajudicial killings. Here, we’re shown the assembly and loading of a pistol. Of all possible choices for a title sequence, focusing on this weapon suggests the un/conscious celebration of the pistol, and by extension, encounter killings itself.

Before Rajinikanth’s introduction, we hear Patrick aka Battery (Fahadh Faasil) saying, “Conscience is bigger than law.” And, within the first 15 minutes, Athiyan guns down at least three people in encounters, all set against a backdrop of dramatic buildup and Anirudh Ravichander’s electrifying score.

Vettaiyan stars Rajinikanth and Amitabh Bachchan in key roles. (Image: Lyca/Facebook)

Another example of how Athiyan is portrayed as synonymous with the law and order system itself is when Saranya chooses to write directly to him — an encounter specialist — after discovering that some miscreants are storing marijuana in the classrooms of her school. The SP soon enters with zeal and guns down the kingpin of the drug racket after tricking him into shooting a police officer involved in the illegal business.

Following every successful mission (of killing people), Athiyan delivers his signature line, “Kuri vecha, erai vizhanum (When the hunt is on, the prey must fall).” The basic definition of hunting, according to Cambridge dictionary, is, “chasing and killing an animal or bird for food, sport, or profit.” If Athiyan views his encounter killings as “hunting,” how can he — or anyone else — justify them as being for the greater good of society? Also, when the rivals break into their house, Athiyan’s wife Thara (Manju Warrier), despite not being a fan of her husband’s strategies, also picks up a pistol and shoots the villains, thus pushing the movie’s problematic aspects further.

While the film’s portrayal of sexual violence — widely criticised for its repetitive and insensitive nature — borders on schadenfreude, Gnanavel’s repeated depiction of this scene can also be interpreted as a deliberate choice to fuel the audiences’ anger, prompting them to wish for the culprit(s) to suffer as much as Saranya did, ultimately framing the encounter killing as justifiable.

As the movie discusses the Banning of Unregulated Deposit Schemes (BUDS) Act of 2019, the period in which the narrative is set is very clear. However, Vettaiyan still shows TV channels broadcasting images of Saranya’s body and repeatedly mentioning her name in news reports, seemingly disregarding the 2018 Supreme Court ruling that barred print, electronic and social media from publishing the names of dead rape victims or anything that can reveal their identity. This approach not only highlights the makers’ insensitivity but also illustrates how they went the extra mile to depict a growing public consensus calling for the encounter of the accused, even before they have been proven guilty.

In the 1992 legal drama A Few Good Men (AFGM), Colonel Nathan R Jessep (Jack Nicholson) of the US Marine Corps is the main antagonist. He isn’t the villain just because he ordered his subordinates to carry out the extrajudicial punishment known as “code red” on an “underperforming” private — which ultimately led to the private’s death — for disobeying the chain of command. While this alone is sufficient for punishment by the law, Jessep becomes the story’s main villain because he also cultivated a new generation of unempathetic automatons within the Marines who obey orders without question, even if it means breaking the law or taking a life.

The “code red” in AFGM can be seen as an extrajudicial punishment carried out by uniformed officers with weapons, who hold considerable power, on those they deem out of line — which broadly includes those who commit crimes as well. Much like Colonel Jessep, who ordered the illegal “code red,” acts as if it’s his duty to carry out such measures for the sake of the force and, by extension, the country, Athiyan adopts the role of the investigator, judge and executioner. While both Jessep and Athiyan justify their actions as serving society and their homeland, the key difference is that Jessep is portrayed as the antagonist in AFGM, whereas Athiyan — despite sharing a similar code and mindset — is depicted as the protagonist.

Some might argue that Athiyan is different because he is well-intentioned and only targets criminals. Yet, how can we be certain that any officer wielding such power, even if seemingly golden-hearted, is free from personal biases? Even Athiyan, upon learning about Saranya’s murder, immediately grows restless to take matters into his own hands, displaying an almost bloodthirsty impulse. Once involved, he sets out to kill Guna without cross-checking the case files to confirm his guilt, eventually murdering him on the word of the investigating officer SP Harish Kumar (Kishore), despite being well aware that the police force harbours ill-intentioned officers. Circling back to Sathyadev’s initial line, the police resort to encounters only when suspects are from lowered castes or economically disadvantaged backgrounds. Here, we see a dark-skinned man from a slum, making ends meet through odd jobs, ruthlessly killed by a uniformed officer in an act of (glorified) police vigilantism.

Even after committing this act, Athiyan faces no auditing from his colleagues or society and his crime is dismissed as a ‘forgivable’ mistake, simply because he is believed to be golden-hearted. In AFGM, First Lieutenant Jonathan Kendrick (Kiefer Sutherland) says during the court hearing, “I have two books in my bedside, Lieutenant: the Marine Corps Code of Conduct and the King James Bible. The only proper authorities I am aware of are my commanding officer, Colonel Nathan R Jessep, and the Lord, our God,” illustrating the profound influence Jessep — whom everyone, including Kendrick, sees as righteous — has over his men. The same holds true for Athiyan and no one even considers taking him to court for the crime he committed.

Though Athiyan shows some signs of a change of heart by sparing the main villain Natraj Shanmugam (Rana Daggubati) during the climax, his willingness to kill Natraj’s associates undermines this supposed change of heart and thus, the whitewashing of his role as an encounter specialist reaches new heights here. In AFGM, when Lieutenant Kaffee confronts Jessep about ordering the “code red,” the Colonel responds with disdain, “We use words like honour, code, loyalty. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punch line. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom that I provide and then questions the manner in which I provide it. I would rather that you just said ‘thank you’ and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon and stand the post.” This shows how much Jessep sees his actions as both his right and duty and Athiyan too behaves in, albeit whitewashed, the same manner.

When Jessep is finally found guilty and arrested, he scoffs at Kaffee, saying, “You have no idea how to defend the nation. All you did was weaken a country today. That’s all you did. You put people’s lives in danger,” as if making him pay for his crimes is somehow ‘anti-national’. We know where we’ve heard such rhetoric in real life, and Athiyan not being prosecuted should also be seen along these lines.

While the film’s critique of the commercialisation of education and its impact on marginalised children is commendable, the glorification of a deplorable person like Athiyan is troubling and he is undoubtedly a kettavan, a villain to be precise, who evaded the law by masquerading as a ‘righteous’ law enforcement officer.