
Regardless of the hit percentage, 2024 was a breath of fresh air in Tamil cinema with regard to locations and storytelling peculiar to its geography. The Tamil film industry got the name Kollywood from Chennai's film hub, Kodambakkam.
Tamil cinema, from its Madurai and Pollachi days, slowly crawled into Chennai and restricted itself mostly after the late 90s. The past year looks to have indicated the trend coming to a full circle as several films documented lives outside of Chennai. Starting off with a relatively proximate Arakkonam (Blue Star), the industry has produced films that have documented the journey of people in Thanjavur (Meiyazhagan), Theni (Kozhipannai Chelladurai), Tiruvannamalai (Parari), Tirunelveli (Vaazhai), and Perambalur/Cuddalore (Lubber Pandhu) and has effectively brought Tamil cinema out of Kodambakkam.
BLUE STAR - ARAKKANOM
Board a train on a Saturday or Sunday morning to a town within 100 kilometres of Chennai. Make sure to sit near the window. You can catch a glimpse of scores of young boys wearing cricket jerseys with enviably innovative designs at grounds near agricultural fields. When nothing else bothers you about your life, you'll be curious about the stories and routines of these boys. You would even want to get out of the train and join the match, given how passionately the youngsters treat the sport. S Jayakumar's Blue Star explores some stories of such boys, with Arakkonam playing a major part.
The trains and the sound of their horns are integral to the film's narrative. The chartbusters 'Railin Oligal' and 'Railai Thallum Meghame' and most of the frames with trains plying in the background in the cricket scenes are telltale of how trains act as the proverbial window to Arakkonam, a not-so-touristy town nestled between Vellore and Chennai. Blue Star can be called a spiritual sequel to Pa Ranjith's Attakathi (2012) with regard to shifting K-town's focus from the bustling city to the suburbs of Chennai and beyond.
MEIYAZHAGAN - THANJAVUR
One may argue that C Premkumar's Meiyazhagan, starring Karthi and Arvind Swami, hasn't sufficiently captured the beauty of the Delta region, and the film is primarily centred around the conversations of the two male leads. But those familiar with Mahabharata know that the blind Kaurava patriarch Dhritarashtra could visualise the war field with the description given by his minister Sanjaya. This was how Karthi's narration felt in the film.
With the demarcation between urban life and the villages becoming more marked in the past decade, a 30-minute drunk talk with a friend or a relative in a kollapuram/purakadai (backyard) could make up for not exploring the whole length and breadth of a village. Aravind Swami's Arul, who leaves his native with a resolve not to return, couldn't help but smile like a child when he is nearing Needamangalam. The smile, despite the squally winds and merciless sun shining on his face, conveys it is all worth it to come back home. Not only does the film romanticise village life, with Karthi's Meiyazhagan narrating the Jallikattu episode and about the victorious Chozha kings, it is a clarion call to this generation to reconnect with their roots.
VAAZHAI - TIRUNELVELI
Mari Selvaraj, on the other hand, let the visuals do the talking with his partial biopic Vaazhai. While the previous film in the list romanticises rural life, this one gives a closer look at that life and cautions us not to paint a completely rosy picture of it. Even in this painful film, there are portions that manage to bring out our smile. Take, for instance, the thookusattis, which tempted us to discard our plastic lunch boxes, hurricane lamps, grazing cows at the riverside, and the single-screen theatres.
Shot in Karungulam of the southern TN district, the film poignantly and respectfully tells that a village is not just a happy native place like the vacationers believe it to be. Banana and plantain leaves, considered to be auspicious and used in festivities, will never remain the same after we saw a starving Sivanaithan being flogged by an oppressive caste person for wanting to take one banana. Him getting attacked and chased away from tasting the fruit of which he carried heaps during Saturdays and Sundays is a stark reminder of the caste divide and what village life is for different sections of society. Vaazhai unravels this layer, beneath which lies a hard and inhuman life many people are subjected to. Mari, in his usual outspoken manner, argues through his film that the eulogy of Thamirabarani can wait until the river is cleansed from the numerous bloodshed over the years.
LUBBER PANDHU - PERAMBALUR
Another cricket film, from another debut director, again set in the backdrop of a semi-urban town like Perambalur. The film tells a lot about the geography and how it shapes the inhabitants' opinions about the sport. With the film mostly revolving around Gethu and Anbu's ego rivalry and the caste discrimination, it highlights the location's peculiarities through several means. This milieu follows the IPL but in their own localised manner. Take, for instance, "Avan rendu thenna maram uyarathukku six adippan" (He will make the ball fly to the height of two coconut trees for a six); this is the description of Gethu's explosive batting.
Lubber Pandhu also depicts Perambalur in the threshold of urbanisation with Anbu's locality mushrooming with houses having terraces, while Gethu is dwelling in a humble tiled house and Asodhai's family living in a thatched house. Also, the wide shots of single-lane roads where people ply either to play or watch cricket visually convey that Perambalur is not discarding its rural identity any time soon. Also, the huge sound systems blaring with 'Nee Pottu Vecha Thangakodam' are atypical of rural Tamil Nadu, where old songs aren't old enough to go out of trend.
GARUDAN - KOMBAI
This RS Durai Senthilkumar film is an example that some stories and tropes cannot be touched upon or explored in the urban areas. A politician and a land shark eyeing to usurp land belonging to a temple, and his greed turning one friend against another, is unique to a village landscape.
As the film revolves around the Kombai Amman temple, the festivals, its rituals, lores, and norms would remind people, including me, of their native place and ancestral deities. My native is popular for the Kaali Attam (The Dance of Kaali) festival. It is widely believed that when the Goddess descends and possesses the soothsayer, the miscreants in the village die under mysterious circumstances such as lorry accidents. I was reminded of this festival during the electrifying interval block of the film when Soori's Sokkan gets possessed and dismembers a bad guy.