Kaantha - Art, Ambition and Ruin

Kaantha

Tamil - Noir / Drama
150 mins
Netflix

Kaantha is a 1950s-set period noir, staging a battle of egos between a revered director and his legendary former protégé, played out during the making of what is positioned as Tamil cinema’s first horror film.

The film opens with the revelation that the project has been lying unfinished for years after T. K. Mahadevan (Dulquer Salmaan) (TKM) walked out due to creative differences with his mentor, Ayya (Samuthirakani). A producer, Martin, now wishes to revive the film, hoping to cash in on TKM’s towering stardom. Ayya, however, is reluctant to work again with his former pupil.

Ayya, now a bitter man, is unable to reconcile himself to his student’s success. Ayya’s emotional anchor is Kumari (Bhagyashri Borse), a young newcomer he has trained and nurtured as his leading lady. Ayya agrees to make the movie in the confidence that he has Kumari in his corner and that could enable him to call the shots.

TKM, on the other hand, is a crowd favourite, married into wealth and carries the confidence and ego of a man who knows his worth. TKM agrees to return, but lays down firm conditions. The film must be made his way, including a rewritten ending. As the shoot progresses, TKM and Kumari grow close and fall in love, pushing Ayya’s resentment into open hostility. Inevitably, she becomes collateral damage in the escalating clash of sensibilities and pride.

The first 60% of Kaantha is absolutely riveting. The fractured narrative, slow nudges across timelines, strongly recalls Iruvar in spirit, charting how admiration curdles into bitterness between master and pupil. Writer and Director Selvamani Selvaraj does really well here.

The film takes a markedly different turn when a murder enters the narrative. Phoenix Devaraj (Rana Daggubati), a swaggering police officer, leads the investigation. Rana delivers a strong performance, but his character not only signals a tonal shift, but also feels a little out of time.  This strange writing choice, unsettles the carefully built noir atmosphere.

Dulquer Salmaan is outstanding. As TKM, he charts the journey of a man who begins with earnest dreams, recognises his own value, and gradually allows a constructed, larger-than-life persona to consume him. His diction, something I have often highlighted, is impeccable, right down to the “massy” pronunciation of English words.

Without revealing spoilers, Two sequences stand out. One involving a mirror, and another demanding a rapid progression from shock to grief to anger, all performed in the heightened style of 1950s cinema. Both are exemplary.

It is a welcome return to form for Samuthirakani. He finally gets a role worthy of his talent after years of being underused as a onenote antagonist. Ayya is a man who reveres cinema, sincerely nurtures new talent, yet is burdened by an unshakeable god complex. Samuthirakani inhabits this contradiction beautifully.

Bhagyashri Borse makes a striking impression. She looks perfectly cast and the camera absolutely adores her. She is graceful, emotive, and carries an innocence reminiscent of Aishwarya Rai in Iruvar. Interestingly, she is voiced by Sandhya Reddy, who also dubbed for Aishwarya in films like Jeans (and sounds just like that, even after a decade a bit)

Technically, Kaantha is world-class. The period detailing is exquisite: costumes, production design, art direction, hair and makeup are all meticulously crafted. Jakes Bejoy's background score is good and the songs by Jhanu Chanthar are not bad. 

Dani Salo’s cinematography deserves special mention for its grainy, mist-laden textures that evoke the era with remarkable authenticity. Much of the technical crew overlaps with Mahanati, and the pedigree shows in every frame.

If only Selvamani Selvaraj, had exercised greater restraint with the mystery subplot, Kaantha might have rivalled—or even surpassed—Mahanati as a period drama.  Kaantha may stumble in it’s final act, but is a compelling watch, particularly for those drawn to noir cinema and stories about artistic ego, ambition and betrayal.