Tributes and meta-references about actors are not uncommon in films. In Andhagan, the official remake of Sriram Raghavan’s Andhadhun (2018), the most interesting tributes come along for actor Karthik, who plays himself in the film. He is married to Simi (a brilliant Simran), who we are told loves his film songs. His first entry comes with ‘Panivizhum Malarvanam’ song and then we get glimpses from his yesteryear hit Mouna Raagam and then another classic song ‘Keeravani’. We also get a passing reference to Jeans when we are introduced to Yogi Babu’s character as he worships Aishwarya Rai. Such personal touches elevate a remake, make it relevant to its audience, and stand out from its predecessor.

Cast: Prashanth, Simran, Karthik, Priya Anand, Samuthirakani, Vanitha Vijaykumar, Manobala, Urvashi, Yogi Babu and Leela Samson
Direction: Thiyagarajan

In Andhagan, Krish (Prashanth) is a blind pianist who is caught as a witness to a high-profile murder and the web of problems that come with it. Despite the lack of surprises, Andhagan holds on to its strongest feature—a solid screenplay. It traverses the story as a scene-by-scene remake with an experienced cast who come together and deliver each scene effectively. It has been a long time since we’ve seen Prashanth at his best and the actor slips into his character comfortably, playing a flustered pianist struggling to navigate a dark world. Simran who holds the fort as Simi, who brilliantly shows both the gritty and vulnerable side of her character.

Even actors with limited screen time deliver memorable performances. Urvashi, who plays Sarasu akka and Yogi Babu who plays Murali, pivot the plot to a crucial point that changes the entire second half. Samuthirakani as Manohar proves his range as he shifts from an angry and ruthless policeman at work to a loving husband at home. It is hard not to chuckle at the tom-and-jerry-like dynamic between the husband and wife.

Sriram Raghavan has a knack for including an underlying symphony in his storylines. There is always a melancholy travelling parallelly through the screenplay that makes it difficult for the audience to root for one particular character. At the same time, you tend to root for all of them. Thiyagarajan masterfully translates similar emotions from script to screen. The film has used Lydian Nadhaswaram's tunes to its strength to get the maximum emotion from any scene.

However, Andhagan isn't flawless. For some strange reason, Julie (Priya Anand) is extremely unidimensional. The camera cuts to Simi haphazardly while Julie is delivering a serious dialogue, so we fail to see her emoting well on screen. The black-and-white cat, who almost acts like an unpaid actor in Andhadhun, could have also added a refreshing and metaphorical touch to Andhagan as well, but the makers, unfortunately, miss out on that. The jokes are mostly a mixed bag of very few hits and more misses.

As much as we get an interesting world-building into the world of Andhagan up until the intermission, the second half jumps the gun and races through its twists and turns. This inconsistency in the pacing somewhat derails the murder mystery.

While the makers still pull off an efficient and faithful remake, the greatest strength of Andhagan perhaps lies in the time of its release. Even though the world has changed beyond recognition in six years, the story does not feel outdated, nor do the characters. It surprisingly acts as a refresher to the original, while holding onto Tamil sensibilities wherever necessary. Like the black and white keys in the piano, Andhagan plays to the tune of ‘neenga nallavara kettavara’ to its strength.