Divorce, just like marriage, isn’t something that is just about the couple. It might seem to the world that it is a personal choice, but it is always a culmination of causations. And divorce, just like marriage, isn’t something that is in the hands of the couple in question. The Indian society, and its legal framework, goes out of its way to enforce the sanctity of marriage, and paints divorce as an evil entity that is out to destroy its very fabric. But representation of the same in our movies has always been sketchy at best. In fact, there are very few movies that even talk about divorce, and to have a film like Thalaivan Thalaivii pooh-poohing it might seem detrimental and regressive. But Pandiraaj is someone who has clearly understood the possible backlash for the same. “I don’t know how people can stay away from their loved ones after getting divorced. What is the use of that freedom and respect?” asks a distraught Aagaasaveeran (Vijay Sethupathi), who quickly adds, “But what do I know? It is their life… but I can’t stay away.” Now, this might seem as a commentary against the concept of divorce, or the character’s inexplicable love for his wife, which doesn’t seem to understand the concept of separation. Is divorce wrong? Nope. Can a character not want to get divorced over things like ego and extended family-induced discord? Yes. Can both these concepts co-exist in the same film? Well, that is what Thalaivan Thalaivii tries to explore, albeit with mixed results. 

But when it is just about the machinations of a couple that seem to have nothing in common except a shared love for parottas, Thalaivan Thalaivii is a hoot and a half. While Perarasi (Nithya Menen) is an MBA graduate, Aagaasaveeran is a tenth standard dropout. She believes in winning arguments with silence and stares; he believes in shouting at the top of his voice. She takes time to get hysterical, he starts there. And yet, they are very much in love. They mesh with each other like they are egg and parotta in a kothu parotta, and that’s probably why they don’t bat an eyelid while emotionally battering each other. As Yogi Babu once says in the film, “These are not normal people…” And it is so true of not just Aagaasaveeran and Perarasi, but every character that is part of their extended families. Imagine a Visu-style film with every character in the film played by someone with all the characteristics of a typical Visu character in his films. Why can’t they just say what they want to say without trying to beat around the bush and play unnecessary mind games? But let’s be honest… We know many issues can be solved by just having a conversation, but don’t we know loads of people who aren’t willing to do that basic thing? So, in a way, Thalaivan Thalaivii is about such people who willingly do wrong things simply because they are used to doing these things with impunity. And they do a lot of wrong things.

Director: Pandiraaj

Cast: Vijay Sethupathi, Nithya Menen, Deepa, RK Suresh, Chemban Vinod Jose, Kaali Venkat, and Yogi Babu

Although the film is filled with characters with rather catchy names, Thalaivan Thalaivii is firmly about Aagaasaveeran and Perarasi. However, nothing in the film would move ahead without the presence of its crowded ensemble. And it is interesting how this crowd grows in number as the film progresses. It starts with the local thief (Yogi Babu) entering a temple to get divine permission to start his thievery. It then has the family of Kaali Venkat, Myna, and their kids coming to the temple on the occasion of the elder child’s birthday. Then, Perarasi and her parents come to the tonsuring ceremony of her girl child. Aagaasaveeran isn’t there yet, because the couple haven’t been on talking terms for over three months, and are headed for a separation. A riled-up Aagaasaveeran enters the fray, and his anger leads to three different sets of henchmen coming to settle scores. Now, things are primed for an action entertainer coupled with family sentiment, but Pandiraaj prefers dealing with the heavy issues of Thalaivan Thalaivii with liberal doses of levity. 

It is this humour that holds together this film, which is built on vibes rather than feelings. Of course, there is an overdose of feelings, but it never overstays its welcome. The same can't be said of the action setpieces that go on too long for a film like Thalaivan Thalaivii. But points to Pandiraaj for sketching the families of Aagaasaveeran and Perarasi in such a way that even these elaborate action sequences have some reason to exist.

Nevertheless, Pandiraaj reins in the melodrama by relying on relentless comedy that is organically built out of the various relationships depicted in the film. While the peripheral equations are painted in broad shades of black and white, the Aagaasaveeran-Perarasi relationship comes in various shades. In fact, with any other person, both of them would seem completely at odds, but with each other, they feel complete. Complete chaos… and yet, there is a weird sense of order there. And the film oscillates between this chaos and order, hoping to weave out a tale about how love will defy all odds, even the ones mounted by those in love. Every single time we see the two break up, patch up, love each other, hate each other, fight with each other, and walk out of each other’s lives, there is a sense of exasperation. But there is also a sense of understanding because Vijay Sethupathi and Nithya play these roles to the gallery. They are loud, loving, obnoxious, affable, insufferable, and yet, charming enough to keep us invested. These scenes play out wonderfully, thanks to the convincing performances, even if they have the potential to rile us up due to their repetitive nature.

There are problems galore in the sketching of the peripheral characters, who are largely one-note. They exist to conform to unnecessary stereotypes, and almost none of them come off better, except RK Suresh’s Porchelvan, who plays Perarasi’s brother, and Chemban Vinod Jose’s Arasangam, the father of Perarasi. Barring Nithya, who gets a well-etched out character, the other women in the film are given a raw deal. Why not show us the likes of Deepa Shankar, Roshni Haripriyan, and Janaki Suresh do anything else except be rabble rousers? Is physical violence the only answer? Why not give the likes of Saravanan, Vettai Muthukumar, and Vinod Sagar a more rounded arc? What these missteps essentially does is to keep us at an arm’s length away from many of the peripheral layers that could have gone the way of Kadaikutty Singam. What happens instead is a collection of scenes that are just infuriating for a while, and we remain indifferent to them later. 

Ably supported by Santhosh Narayanan, who does an excellent job of adding melody to this cacophony, Pandiraaj trusts in Vijay Sethupathi and Nithya to eke out a battle of the sexes between two bull-headed people. The film largely relies on loudness to make its points, but it is even better when it lets the quiet moments take over. These scenes come a bit too late in the film, but it is effective nonetheless. The film is quite flippant with its take on divorce, but it manages to subvert it by simply saying it is the story of Aagaasaveeran and Perarasi, and is a tale of how rage, misunderstanding, and miscommunication can take you as far as the courts and police stations, but love can always help you find a way back home. Even if that home is loud, obnoxious, affable, insufferable, charming, and filled with a love that, unlike divorce and marriage, is still a personal choice.