The first day, first show of Kabali on July 22 was filled with frenzy. With the kind of hype the producers resorted to, any film stood the risk of buckling under the weight of expectations. More so, when a film is promoted with that crowd-pleasing ‘…Kabali ra’ dialogue but comes from a director who’s previously dealt with non-formulaic films.
Wading through the crowd and spotting many Kabali- inspired t-shirts, one was aware of the pressure of reviewing a film objectively, without being swayed by the fan frenzy.
A few questions popped up. One knew that the film narrated a story of Malaysian Tamils and Rajinikanth plays an aged don. Now, with such a theme, I wondered if I’d be able to connect with it watching the Telugu dubbed version. In recent years, many a dubbed version turned out to be a less immersive experience than the original. In case of a masala film, it doesn’t matter much. But where a film focuses on socio-political issues and ethnicity, it’s a different ball game.
The review done with for the Telugu version, I ventured to watch the Tamil original a couple of days later. By then, mixed views had emerged from Tamil Nadu as well and again, I was wondering if the effort would be worth it or if I’d be bored, as I was with the dubbed version.
In the meanwhile, a detailed post by a Malaysian Tamil, Visithra Manikam, put a few things in perspective. Ideally, one shouldn’t have to read a book or a blog to understand a film. A film should have that capacity to pull you into its milieu and empathise with its characters. But the second viewing turned out to be way better, partly because of watching it in its original language and partly, the brief history outlined in Visithra’s post.
A few problem areas persisted:
* The film still fell into a zone where it is neither wholly a director’s outing nor an ode to Rajinikanth’s star persona.
* The film packs in way too many characters and it takes a while to register each one’s place in the gang hierarchy and their shifting loyalties.
* There are portions where one gets a glimpse of the personal life of the don, but instead of letting the viewer soak in that setting, the narrative tears away to yet another fight sequence.
* The cardboard-ish etching of Tony Lee character, especially where his aide mocks Kabali and barks like a dog, still felt out of place.
Despite this, there were advantages of watching the original. The conversation with students, during which Kabali recaps his roots, had a better connect in Tamil. Nasser’s character, Kabali’s fight for fair wages, the socio-political situation, the rival gangs, and the rise of someone from a humble beginning, and the politics of image building with Kabali’s crisp suits, all fell in place.
The Telugu dubbing, barring singer Mano’s voice for Rajinikanth, left a lot to be desired. The translation, too, had nothing much to rave about. The lingo of Malaysian Tamils is different from the dialects one hears in Tamil Nadu. And to translate that into a generic Telugu dialect and make people connect with it isn’t simple.
In this film styled like a biopic, director Pa. Ranjith packs in quite a bit. He outlines the lack of enough opportunities for the educated lot, their yearning to be treated at par with the Chinese among other issues.
The clever thing about Kabali is how it makes use of the sartorial Rajinikanth style statement. That scene in the pre-climax where he takes pride in his roots, speaks of his right to dress and walk smart couldn’t have been more apt. In a way, it’s a throwback to Rajinikanth’s own modest beginnings.
Kabali isn’t a Baasha . The punch dialogues are rare to come by and the director wants you to look at the actor behind the star.
It may not be a directorial master class like other iconic gangster films, but it isn’t one that should be brushed aside either.
