முனுசாமித்துணை is painted across the front of an auto, its large eyes watching silently. That auto rides along for much of the film, its unblinking gaze echoing the camera’s own interest: observe silently, reserve judgment.
Pandi’s eyes are wounded. His sisters’ eyes brim with compassion. His aunt’s are clouded with sadness. The older men’s are simply tired. Even a rooster casts a knowing glance, as if it senses the fate that awaits it. But the most haunting eyes belong to Meena, a young college student engaged to Pandi, whose family takes her on a journey to ‘exorcise’ the memory of her low-caste lover. Her eyes never blink. She stares back at a world that has already made up its mind. Is that gaze quiet defiance or quiet defeat? I don’t know. That uncertainty is the film’s strength.
The social commentary here is mostly subtle, occasionally sharp, but always precise. The plot follows an extended family’s day-long trip to a சாமியார், hoping his ritual will return Meena to her “senses.” Along the way, there are stops: a cop thinking of demanding a bribe but backing off once he realizes this is a matter for the gods; a child who can’t hold his poop any longer (“முட்டிகினு வருதுமா”); a tender moment where Pandi gets a speck in his eye and his sister removes it with her tongue. But the most memorable, and metaphorical, is a stubborn bull blocking the road. The men only know how to push and punch, but the bull yields only to a gentle touch. The scene lingers.
Threaded through all these episodes is a question: what does an individual owe to their family, and what does that family owe to the society? These expectations, constantly enforced by the watchful eyes of the community, come at a steep cost. Writer-director P.S. Vinothraj does not offer answers, but he asks if the cost is worth paying. This question is always urgent.
கொட்டுக்காளி, which runs a lean 95 minutes, is the first Tamil film I’ve seen in two decades that genuinely respects my emotional intelligence. It doesn’t spell things out. It doesn’t talk down. It doesn’t explain what doesn’t need explaining. The cinematography is striking, the editing tight, the acting is real. There are no stars here (not that I know who’s a star anymore), and the whole film probably cost less than the first 15 minutes of your average Pongal release. And yet, it carries more soul than most films I’ve seen in years.
This film is a rare thing: it’s not just a bold social document but a mature, thoughtful work of cinema. If we want more films like this, we need to show up for them. Watch it. Talk about it. Recommend it to friends. P.S. Vinothraj: we’re watching, keep going!
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