A Rajini film is not always just a movie. It’s an experience.
One that will make you wake up at four in the morning. One that will make you brave the constant drizzle and ride ahead. One that will make you ask for directions to a theatre in another part of the city. One that will make you scream, whistle, hoot and just go berserk.For me, the Lingaa journey started long before its actual screening. Joining the mad scramble for special show tickets — the ones that are screened in theatres usually out of civilisation and at unearthly hours — was an easy decision. Because, while time and tide wait for no man, they do wait for the Superstar.
13.4 km. That’s the distance Google says I have to travel to get to the theatre in order to watch Thalaivar on the big screen. This, at the wee hours on a Friday, when the rest of the world is asleep. Braving the pitter-patter from the skies hitting my face, I zoom on the lonely Chennai roads to reach my destination. A crowd of youngsters has gathered in front of the theatre. A van arrives and out troop a dozen fans with special ‘ Lingaa ’ T-shirts.
Oh yes, the Thalaivar festival is set to begin.
Even as fans thunder into the premises, armed with whistles and confetti, the theatre officials remind us to buy refreshments. The tickets we possess entail us to a tub of popcorn and water. The all-too-familiar music accompanying the words ‘Superstar Rajini’, flash on screen and the theatre erupts. Kernels of popcorn fly everywhere. A few, from eight rows behind, hit me.
I just smile. We all scream.
And then the tale of Lingaa begins.
