Kuthiraivaal movie review: An aesthetically poignant attempt that's both deep and heavy

3.5/5

Story: Saravanan (Kalaiarasan) works as a cashier in a bank but calls himself Freud. One day, he wakes up to find that he has grown a horsetail. What he's going to do next? Why does he get a tail—one that wags him? Kuthiraivaal has answers to everything and more!

Review: Kuthiraivaal isn't an easy film to watch. It makes you think as much as you feel. Kuthiraivaal is like an abstract piece of art. You try to interpret it the way you want. You think you have got its meaning, but you quite don't. You want to know it more, but the more you delve deep into it, you realise you have a long way to go. Saravanan (Kalaiarasan) understands the past and the afterlife through his dreams. But how possible is that, in reality? Well, either you embrace it completely or you don't. There's no middle ground. The universe that writer Rajesh, Manoj Jahson and Shyam Sunder created, is beyond logic. All is fair in dreams and war, isn't it?

Every character in Kuthiraivaal interprets Saravanan's situation in his or her way. They have different stories to tell. Their ideologies are different; their beliefs are different; naturally, they are different people. For instance, Saravanan's math teacher (played by the prolific theatre artiste Anand Sami) equates his situation to an illusion theory. He could see why Saravanan does things the way he does. Even the old soothsayer grandmother understands why Saravanan has grown a horsetail. But she gives it a different dimension, urging him to know his past life, through his dreams. 

It is hard to categorise Kuthiraivaal as a 'complete' film. But there's a lot of everything in it. There's philosophy. There's literature. There's fantasy. There's politics. There's humanity. There's emotion. There's pain. There's confusion. But you aren't "eased" into scenes. The writing, and approach to filmmaking are 'different'. Maybe, that's what was the filmmakers' objective. Maybe, that's how they wanted their film to be. Kuthiraivaal, in a sense, is a lot like us. We don't always go by logic or a pattern/format. Sometimes, we don't know why we do certain things. Sometimes, we don't know why we feel sad. Sometimes, we don't know why we break down. Kuthiraivaal is rather like that. It is hard to decipher. 

In the beginning, you neither understand why Vaanavil/Irusaayi (Anjali Patil) follows Saravanan nor why he wants to call himself Freud. All you understand is that he's disillusioned. Slowly, you notice the worlds behind the figment of the imagination and how everything collides. There's absurdity, madness, indifference, stillness, but somehow, the directors keep your curiosity intact—which I think is the film's biggest strength. As long as you are interested to seek meaning out of every frame, you are good! 

Note the careful use of mildly-lit frames and colour by Karthik Muthukumar that is in sync with the director duo's vision. The collage of photos, sculptures, paintings, the moon, the windows, the train—everything that you see in Kuthiraivaal, including the characters, stays with you for longer. Kalaiarasan and Anjali Patil draw out delicate and nuanced performances. Even when fantasy and magic realism hit their peak, you still feel passionately engaged with the basics of humanity. Kuthiraivaal, certainly, is a breath of fresh air from the mainstream rot that gives you a pause.

Verdict: If are a fan of dark cinema, philosophy and psychoanalysis, go for it. I'm sure you won't be disappointed. This is an utterly 'different' film, a subtle film, a daring film. 

(Kuthiraivaal is streaming on Netflix)