Thug Life (Tamil)
When a filmmaker like Mani Ratnam reunites with a star like Kamal Haasan after 38 years, the expectations write themselves. This, especially when their last collaboration was Nayakan (1987), a film that not only set the benchmark for the gangster genre in Tamil cinema, but practically redefined it. So naturally, Thug Life, a return to the gangster milieu with a grander scale and star-studded cast, arrives carrying the weight of history.
As the film unfolds, however, it becomes clear that nostalgia is a tricky thing to outdo. Not because the result is disastrous, far from it. But because what lives in memory can be sharper, more enduring, than anything new trying to echo its spirit.
Thug Life begins with promise. In stark black and white, we are dropped into 1994 Delhi, where a fantastically de-aged Kamal Haasan, as Rangaraya Sakthivel, is navigating a violent shootout. Amid the chaos unleashed by his own gang’s clash with the police, Sakthivel ends up rescuing a young boy. It’s a stylish, moody opener that sets the tone, and as Sakthivel repeatedly states throughout the film, death seems to tail him like a shadow.
The story then fast-forwards to 2016, where Sakthivel is now a swaggering real estate don with a seemingly loyal gang, a devoted wife Jeeva (played by Abhirami), a much younger girlfriend Indrani (Trisha) whom he once rescued from a bar, and a grown-up Amaran (Silambarasan), the boy he once saved. This may not be one of Kamal Haasan’s most iconic characters, but as an ageing gangster caught in a web of shifting loyalties, he definitely brings a charming conviction to it.
The film has no shortage of plot — deaths, vendettas, and betrayals abound. What seems to be lacking, however, is cohesion. The emotional stakes that should drive the story get lost in the sprawl. A sister, who is supposed to be a pivotal emotional anchor in the relationship between Sakthivel and Amaran, all but disappears from the narrative until the very end. Alliances shift too quickly, and it leads us to question the depth of certain central characters.
A lot of the film is reminiscent of Chekka Chivantha Vaanam (2018), another Mani Ratnam gangster film about ambition and fractured brotherhood. As was the case with CCV, Thug Life also gives its women little agency. They are either boxed into roles as mothers and daughters whose entire existence orbits the men in their lives, or simply the romantic or sexual conquests of those same men.
Trisha’s Indrani, for instance, is in love with Sakthivel, who rescued her from a bar dancer’s life. But she is reduced to a mere pawn in the power struggle between two men, drifting in and out of frames in pretty saris, but with little to do beyond looking ornamental.
Meanwhile, his wife Jeeva waits at home, fully aware of her husband's double life. All the film offers her is a brief quarrel over Indrani, which is hastily resolved with a few words, before she resigns to her fate with a tired smile. To her credit, Abhirami delivers a grounded, quietly affecting performance.
Silambarasan, in the meantime, is saddled with a confused role that never fully decides if it wants to be heroic, tragic, or morally grey. The writing fails to build him up into a true counterpoint to Sakthivel, even though it clearly wants him to be. Still, the actor leans into the performance with charisma and sincerity, lending Amaran a degree of vulnerability and moral conflict.
Nasser, Mahesh Manjrekar, and Joju George are all shuffling through familiar territory here, doing what’s expected of them with limited material, while Aishwarya Lekshmi also makes an impression with a brief appearance. Ashok Selvan as a police officer feels oddly miscast, seeming out of place amid the grime of this world.
Ali Fazal, meanwhile, is left with one of the film’s flattest roles — a caricature of an angry young Delhi man who grunts and growls while scheming revenge. He also disappears for a large stretch and returns in time for the climax, bringing nothing new with him. Rajshri Deshpande, as his mother, lingers on the margins, mostly to listen in silence. The way they are built up in the initial stretches, these aren’t supposed to be minor characters. But the film treats them as if they are, which adds to its larger problem of wasted potential.
Visually, Thug Life stays consistent with Mani Ratnam’s fondness for muted palettes and heavy shadows. Ravi K Chandran’s cinematography dazzles, and overall, the visual design remains stunning. This is especially so in a survival sequence in the second half, tonally reminiscent of The Revenant (2015), though the scene feels particularly disconnected from everything around it. The action too, while competently choreographed, never quite ignites.
Even AR Rahman’s score, usually the pulse of a Mani Ratnam film, feels unusually restrained. There are hints of something potent — a quiet motif here, a stirring undertone there — but the music only occasionally manages to elevate the film. One true bright spot is the tender and melodic ‘Anju Vanna Poove,’ which appears like a breath of warmth.
In the end, Thug Life isn’t a bad film. It’s a film that wants to be mythic, but lands somewhere between melancholic and muddled. For die-hard Kamal Haasan fans, it offers glimmers of something compelling. But the film never quite delivers on the promise of its pedigree, or becomes the cinematic event it was meant to be.
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.