
The writing is barely functional: a half-hearted subplot about ragging in college, another half-hearted subplot about a canteen contract, something about sand smuggling, a half-hearted love angle between the characters played by Sananth Reddy and Megha Akash, a half-hearted villain in Bobby Simha (this time, he gets to play Michael, a name almost always found in Karthik Subbaraj’s films), a half-hearted heroine in Simran, a quarter-hearted heroine in Trisha (she’s had more footage in some of her ads). (At the end of this action stretch, the star borrows one of Subrahmanya Bharathi’s most famous lines: Naan veezhven endru ninaithayo …) But Brand Subbaraj suffers. Petta opens with an out-of-nowhere fight sequence that exists solely as (1) a hero-introduction scene for Kaali, and (2) an affirmation that Brand Rajini, despite recent setbacks, is still on fire. We also want to get Subbaraj-ified, and that doesn’t happen for a while. It isn’t till the end of the film that you realise the song is a tribute to (and an extension of) a famous Rajini number that was equally percussion-heavy and also sung by SP Balasubrahmanyam.Īlso Read Baradwaj Rangan’s Review Of 2.0īut to those of us who are also Karthik Subbaraj fans, “getting Rajini-fied” isn’t enough. My favourite nod, though, has to be Anirudh’s number, ‘Marana Mass’. The nunchaku bits bring to mind Paayum Puli. A watch sales and service store goes by the name of “Muthu”. The sun-splattered lighting scheme appears to be an homage to Thalapathy. The cigarette toss makes a smashing return, as does the “ paambu” joke. In Petta, Rajinikanth plays a hostel warden, and his name is Kaali, which is to this actor what “Vijay” is to Amitabh Bachchan. Others won’t get it.Īnd what a shrine it is, harking back to the very first “Rajini moment”, when a newcomer flung open those gates in Apoorva Raagangal. When the rest of us saw Lingaa and decided we didn’t give, um, a dam, he tweeted: “#Lingaa is a 3hr emotional talk between thalaivar and a fan who was heart broken when he was ill.Others won’t get it.HE is back & We luv him” One way to view Petta, then, is simply as a shrine to a star, by a fan.

A lot of this, I bet, also has to do with the director, a self-confessed fanboy. He’s lit beautifully, and the heightened pace of his movement (something we missed in his recent films) brings to mind the Rajinikanth of old, when he spoke so fast that the words sometimes tumbled and merged into one another like socks in a washing machine. To hook you with a look at this age, at this stage of his career - you can forgive any number of Baba-s and Lingaa-s. Superstar is in super form, and it’s a thrill to be reminded - in this age of disposable stardom - of enduring screen charisma. One way to view Karthik Subbaraj’s Petta (Neighbourhood) is to treat it as Rajinikanth’s Petta.
