Baththa: Balaji Tharaneetharan’s Vijay Sethupathi-starrer is powered by a big heart

At its core, Balaji Tharaneetharan’s Baththa is a story of love and redemption. Of how, two contrasting people separated by age, power and position can be put together in a situation and yet return with one’s innocence intact and another’s conscience restored.

It helps that Baththa, set in the 1980s, is headlined by an in-form Vijay Sethupathi (Baththa) and Master Sai Prithviraj (Sabari), and written and directed superbly by Balaji Tharaneetharan of Naduvula Konjam Pakkatha Kaanom and Seethakathi fame. What happens when gangster Baththa is locked inside a bathroom by terrified little Sabari? This is the basic premise that Balaji builds on.

As is expected from Balaji, what you see is not what you get. He shows you something, but what he intends you to see is the gift you receive when you stay invested enough. 

Like, for example, the title card. Pay close attention to it, for it resides in your mind and adds to the laughter written into a later scene. In Balaji’s world, the things that cause trouble are interesting, and unlikely — if it was a cricket ball in Naduvula, it is Sabari, the terrified child, here. Because the premise is already set that Baththa is a bloodthirsty rowdy who everyone fears, every other antagonist would have looked smaller. So, why not have a really small child trouble him?

The film, Balaji’s third collaboration with Vijay Sethupathi, is mostly taut — I would have removed the typical drunk song though, because this film does not really need it as a crutch. You’re at the edge of your seat when Baththa and Sabari are on screen. A locked school toilet during the summer holidays becomes the perfect place for a person’s ego to crumble, like the humble porai (rusk) that he is given to eat.

By now everyone knows that if Vijay Sethupathi is given a role of substance, he will walk to the winning post without much effort. That’s what happens in this film. The surprise is Sai Prithviraj, who charms with his vivid portrayal of a frightened child with a conscience. A huge pat on the back for the casting director — from where did he manage to find so many wide-eyed kids oozing innocence and the sparkle of childhood?

In a film, sometimes, more than the what and the where, the why is important. In this, Balaji reserves it for the last, and, as a result, you look at Baththa with renewed compassion. And, it is endearing that no one else except Sabari gets that why. By now, he’s very invested in the person that Baththa is, not the image that people and his deeds have lent him. And, he likes the person! That scene under the tree with Baththa feeding Sabari tender palm fruit is one for the ages. There’s so much to learn from children, really!

When a gangster goes through a trauma and returns vowing revenge, the audience is usually in anticipation. Here, Balaji makes you dread that, and it helps that Sai Prithviraj’s eyes beautifully express that dread. 

Balaji is more interested in making you look at the person behind the personality called Baththa — the loving father, the adoring husband with major anger issues, the loyal leader for his gang of men. The time he is alone also forces Baththa to analyse what he’s become — he’s not happy, he even feels disgust.

Sabari’s family is of moderate means, but is filled with love. His father Thirunavukarasu (Hari Krishnan) works in the dockyard and is a dutiful family man. His mother Selvi (Santhy Balachandran) always wonders why Sabari looks terrified and is afraid, like his father. It is this Thirunavukarasu who teaches Baththa the biggest lesson of all — to think of others first. The second lesson Baththa learns is how compassion for another human being — even if he is terrifying — can be learnt from a child. 

Baththa works because you remember what happened earlier, and you know the intensity of what’s happening in the present. And, because of Sai Prithviraj — you see in him confusion, fear and worry, but never anger — you feel for a child placed in an impossible situation.

Vijay Sethupathi has worked very well with children in the past and this film is no different. The actor usually adopts a rhythm for dialogue delivery, and I’m curious to know what meter/rhythm he deployed in this film when shooting with Sai Prithviraj.

Lijomol Jose is radiant as Kannima, Baththa’s loving wife, even if you wonder why she puts up with physical abuse. Baby Sahasra Shree (of Chiththa fame) plays their daughter Thenmozhi. I thought there would be more screentime for Deepa Venkat, who plays the wife of another gangster, Pedda Kondaiah. 

Sai Abhyankkar’s BGM was very interesting in parts, but did it suit the 80s’ milieu? I have my doubts, but this is a vast improvement from the loudness of previous scores. Melody finds a place here.

Now coming to the why — why did a gangster enter a closed school? Everyone’s asking Baththa that. For that, you’ve to go watch the movie. You won’t be disappointed.

Subha J Rao is an entertainment journalist covering Tamil and Kannada cinema and is based out of Mangaluru, Karnataka.

Disclaimer: This review was not paid for or commissioned by anyone associated with the film. Neither TNM nor any of its reviewers have any sort of business relationship with the film’s producers or any other members of its cast and crew.