The last decade has been a game-changer for Tamil cinema with the advent of filmmakers like Pa Ranjith and Mari Selvaraj. Their powerful films on systemic and structural oppression have made the right noise and pushed home the point that art doesn’t have to just reflect society, but also transform it. Now, we have got Nikesh RS’ Rebel, which has an intriguing plot said to be based on true events making it all the more crucial for it to be told. But whether it translates well into a competent film is a different question.
At its core, Rebel has a brilliant plot: Set in the 80s, it’s about the plight of Tamil labourers in the plantation estates of Munnar, Kerala. As education is the only key that will get them out of the hell hole, Kathir (GV Prakash Kumar) and his friends get placed in a college in Chittur, Palakkad, only to find out that the oppression their family faced in the estate has taken a new manifestation here. Controlled by two student groups that are an extension of the state’s political parties, its members take turns to humiliate Kathir and company in multiple ways.
Rebel (Tamil)
A filmmaking challenge we often look past is how accidents and incidents that happen without any reasoning in real life need causation in the make-believe world of cinema. The insults and vicious insinuations Kathir and his friends endure are hard-hitting and difficult to digest and considering it’s based on true events, they would have probably happened, but they don’t “feel” real. This boils down to the treatment of the film and is not a contention to the claims of what transpired in those days. Unlike contemporary films on despotism, which are based on issues many are aware of, a period flick on the same begs for a certain degree of credibility — something that Asuran pulled off quite well and Rebel misses by a mile.
In Rebel, the Tamil students, on the first day, are shown a huge, multi-storeyed, well-maintained building as a hostel only for them to be escorted to ‘B Hostel’ which is single-storeyed and dilapidated. It makes you wonder if our neighbours were so cartoonishly discriminatory a few decades ago or if it’s the filmmaker flexing his cinematic liberties. It’s difficult to fit ourselves into this world where every Malayali is an agenda-driven one-dimensional baddie who would happily have a Tamilian’s life for breakfast. Standing on the side of the victim is one thing but painting the film’s entire Malayalam-speaking characters to be oppressors is something else.
A still from ‘Rebel’ | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
And when they wreak havoc, it’s not just difficult to watch, given the gory detailing, but there’s nothing unique to it. There are scenes featuring boys ganging up on one person in the restroom, groups of students fighting it out and gruesome custodial violence by corrupt cops. Irrespective of their genders, Tamil students are stripped, ragged, beaten mercilessly, called names and even killed. But it has no repercussions until our story’s hero takes it upon himself and starts a new faction to protect his folks. Even if you keep aside the logical question of how easily the institution and cops brush these under the carpet, the rise of our revolutionaries is not particularly entertaining either. Like every story of the underdog, Kathir and his friends stop running and start retaliating against the injustice meted to them but the happenings don’t really make you want to root for them.
The film also reminds us of other titles; the ‘pandi’ sequence reminded me of the ‘patti’ scene from Autograph and a particularly disturbing ‘culturals’ scene brought back to mind the famous mass scene from Premam. Speaking of which, there’s a scene where Kathir and his friends are stripped of their veshti because they aren’t “supposed” to wear it and the professor who stops the brawl retorts with a “ragging is normal” comment which became an unintentionally funny moment. Despite the film’s attempt to not make its plot look one-sided, it fails miserably on that front and constant lines about how Malayalam was derived from Tamil and comparing the two states with India and Pakistan don’t really help. Add to the equation Premalu-fame Mamitha Baiju whose Tamil debut predominantly requires her in slow motion shots randomly smiling at everything she looks at.
Initially, the technical aspects of Rebel popped out as its saving grace; the music, though loud, is quite good and the camera movements were quite interesting. The sets, old buildings and the slew of yesteryear bikes add authenticity to the period. But the same technical aspects get indulgent after a while. In one scene, an unknown character drops a pen and when he bends to pick it up he hears something behind and the makers use that as a pretext to do a camera roll to give one of the many “mass” moments for its lead. There are some interesting ideas — like explaining why their new faction’s flag has both red and black colours and how parties forget and act against the very tenets they were formed on — but none of it translates into interesting scenes the film desperately needed. A sense of connection is paramount to films that want us to stand by the side of the victims and make us feel elated when they rise against the odds. Without that sense of connection, Rebel feels like an excuse to come up with a slew of disturbing scenes so they can tug at your heartstrings, making this film a rebel without a cause.
Rebel is currently running in theatres
