Vishwanath and Sons Movie Review:

Legacy. Not everyone’s story becomes one for the history books. Not everyone’s actions become part of everyday conversations, right? But many a time, many sections of society reduce legacy to progeny, and this includes even the top 1% of the top 1%. What they leave behind matters as much as who they leave behind. The Vishwanaths are no different. When we first meet Sanjay Vishwanath (Suriya, turning back the clock), the protagonist of Venky Atluri’s Vishwanath and Sons, he has just won an Olympic gold medal for the country. He is a super-successful businessman who does god-knows-what, earns god-knows-how-much money, and lives in a god-knows-how-palatial bungalow. And yet, the needs in the Vishwanath household are simple: Sanjay’s long-pending marriage. His mother Nirmala Devi (A show-stealing Radikaa Sarathkumar) is worried about her 42-year-old son, who is well past the ‘marriageable’ age. While he does look a million bucks, there’s a very good reason why he has been evading marriage. But when the legacy of the Vishwanaths comes up again, Sanjay, a doting son, relents to his mother’s wish that he start a family. He finds a surrogate mother, gets himself a son, and bam! Legacy levels completed. But when the baby falls sick, the surrogate mother, Maddy (A terrific Mamitha Baiju) enters their lives, and bam! Everyone’s world turns upside down.

Director: Venky Atluri

Cast: Suriya, Mamitha Baiju, Radikaa Sarathkumar, Raveena Tandon

All of this happens within the first 20 minutes of the film, and it is one of the strengths of Venky’s writing, ensuring that most of the pieces of the puzzle are properly put together very early. There isn’t any major tension or reveals that would blow our socks off. It is a rather straightforward film that relies more on getting the moments right. And Venky gets it wonderfully right for the longest time. Be it the telephone conversation between Maddy and Sanjay, the discussions between Sanjay and his mother about two contrasting secrets, Sanjay realising that even truth has two sides, and more, Vishwanath and Sons offers one of the breeziest explorations of relationships. There is a lot to like about all these equations. Maddy and Nirmala get along like a house on fire, and they bring the roof down with their antics. It is such a neat portrayal of contrasting generations. Never do we see Nirmala talking about Maddy's ‘modernity’, and the latter doesn’t brush her off as a relic of the past. They share such a refreshing candour that they almost overshadow everything else. Venky allows this relationship to blossom, but it doesn’t mean he loses sight of the core of the film: 22-year-old Maddy’s pining heart for the 42-year-old Sanjay.

Now, there is no doubt that a May-December romance is a sensitive and layered topic. Age is undoubtedly a factor, but there are additional aspects to consider. If two consenting adults are falling in love, regardless of age, should it actually be looked down upon? Isn’t it their personal choice? But again, did this equation build on a strong base, or is it a classic case of grooming? Now, who decides this? Is it someone looking at it from the outside, or the ones living that life? In this important exploration, Venky puts all his eggs in the one basket called Suriya. 

Sanjay is always portrayed as a man of principle, and his stoic demeanour ensures we never, for a moment, think he might do anything that goes against his own sense of right and wrong. But love works in mysterious ways, right? Through the 160-minute runtime, we see the oscillations in the minds of Sanjay and Maddy, who aren’t sure what to make of their complicated relationship. It follows the tropes of the usual meet-cute and male saviour scenarios, but Suriya’s earnestness is wonderfully balanced by Mamitha’s chirpiness, bridged together by Venky's taut writing. That is why the film becomes uncharacteristically outlandish and flimsy when the conversation shifts from Sanjay’s domestic problems to his past; it slips a lot. When the conflict is established, and the stakes are raised to just the right level, why leave it all to go the Meiyazhagan or Kadaikutty Singam way? Yes, it is fun to see an unabashed Suriya, who does a super-convincing job of selling the lighthearted nature of the proceedings; the stature of his character gets in the way of the sudden change in pacing. As long as the film stays focussed on the antics of Nirmala, Maddy, Sanjay, and the young baby at the centre of it all, Vishwanath and Sons is the thorough family entertainer that Indian cinema desperately needed. However, once it shifts to the story of Anjali (A miscast Raveena Tandon) and her daughter Meghana (Bhavani Sre), Vishwanath and Sons becomes a drag and a half.

In fact, Sanjay’s character is caught between these two sets of women, and he tries to appease every woman in his circle. This game has never resulted in a positive outcome, and Vishwanath and Sons is no different. This could have been a poignant exploration of the age gap in romance and whether logic and reason should be questioned in matters of the heart. However, despite tackling themes like surrogacy, casual dating, sexual desires, falling in and out of love, and of course, the age gap, Vishwanath and Sons decides to become a Dharma Productions film of yore, and espouse the importance of ‘family.’ This detour is suggested early in the film, but it still feels completely unnecessary because it forces us to forget the film's principal conflict: Will Sanjay accept Maddy’s love despite their differences? In a film without a typical villain, it is disappointing that convenience becomes Vishwanath and Sons' biggest enemy.

Again, this isn’t an unforgivable crime at all, and that’s because of the immense goodwill earned by the film before it resorts to that long-ish detour. It’s all because this is a film with three generational talents, a couple of decades separating them, giving it their all. The 80s are represented by Radikaa, rightfully labelled ‘Kalai Arasi’ in Vishwanath and Sons, who delivers a worldly-wise performance without losing the naivete she is known for. The 2000s are Suriya’s forte, and it is nice to see him perform with a sense of ease that was missing from his recent run. Points to Venky for not making this a nostalgic ride but instead showcasing the actor's evolution, who carries his age like a crown and yet charms us as if it were 2006. There is one scene in which he breaks down, and Suriya proves why there are very few actors in India right now who can be this convincing when they cry onscreen. Oh, and Mamitha takes care of the 2020s, and she aces a role that might seem easy, but it is a tightrope walk. One step this side, she is ‘cringe’; one step that side, she is ‘caricaturish’; and Mamitha ensures we never judge Maddy but want her to be happy.

Make no mistake, the opulence of the film will be a discussion, but it is interesting how Venky, even when showing the protagonists travelling in private jets, doling out US 75,000 as if it is loose change, buying an entire hotel to prove a point, and living in a house that might just be the most lavish house yours truly has ever seen in Tamil cinema, still makes it relatable. There are multiple emotionally stirring moments that are so organic that one might think all of us have similar problems. Of course, we know the reality that awaits most of us, but if cinema is not a medium to vicariously live someone else’s life, then what is?

That is why, when the film finally stutters and reaches its climax, we are left with more questions than answers. This isn’t a film that ties everything together and puts a neat bow on top. It does give answers, but they might not be everyone’s cup of their favourite beverage. One might argue that love is personal, and who are we to decide what Sanjay and Maddy should or shouldn’t do? But that’s the thing about cinema. If you make the audience feel invested in the proceedings, they will have a say in the resolutions. Vishwanath and Sons does a great job of keeping us engaged and entertained, and when it falters in the final few steps, you want to hold it tight and take it past the finish line. It is not because you like Suriya, Venky, Radikaa, Mamitha, or any other actor in the film. It is because you want to remember all the smiles, the laughs, the tears, and how your heart felt full watching the life and times of the Vishwanaths. In some ways, legacy is not what you leave behind but what you are remembered for, and on that front, Vishwanath and the women ensure Vishwanath and Sons’ legacy is cared for.