Raghu Thatha Movie Review: A cacophony of ideas underwhelms this film’s potential

When a film’s fundamental idea is to establish the importance of an ideology through a character, it is important for it to give us the reasoning behind why the character stands for the particular ideology. In Raghu Thatha, Suman Kumar does not go into the details of why Keerthy Suresh’s Kayalvizhi is against Hindi imposition. With two simple flashback scenes, narrated by Maami (Devadarshini), the film establishes that Kayal is Valluvanpettai’s ‘Tamil thaai petra veera mangai’ because she has been fighting hindi imposition since her teenage years. While the omission of lengthy flashbacks is commendable, we don't connect with the protagonist because, towards the end, even Kayal is not sure what she stands for anymore. With a few laughs here and there, enjoyable performances, underdeveloped ideologies and logical flaws, Raghu Thatha’s potential is squandered.

Director: Suman Kumar

Cast: Keerthy Suresh, Ravindra Vijay, MS Bhaskar, Devadarshini, Anandsami, Rajeev Ravindranathan, Rajesh Balakrishnan, Ismath Bhanu

The first half of the film meanders, introducing the world and characters at a glacial pace. Raghu Thatha features a song dedicated to MS Bhaskar’s titular character after he receives dire news. While that might not be unusual on its own, the song, intended to be humorous, with lyrics like "Kaalam mudinjaa kaalaiyil unakku coffee kedaikadhu," falls flat and tests our patience instead. The pace finally picks up towards the intermission, and we're left wondering about the impending conflict. As the interval approaches, a character's contrasting arc comes into focus, piquing our curiosity. However, the second half unravels with a series of logical flaws.

Raghu Thatha explores multiple ideologies, including anti-Hindi imposition and feminism, with Keerthy Suresh's Kayal at the forefront. Set in the 1970s, the film portrays Kayal as a multifaceted character — a 25-year-old unmarried graduate working at Madras Central Bank, and a writer who pens short stories under the male pseudonym K Pandian.  “Enakkum aasaiya dhaan iruku, aana oru pen dhaan ezhudhura nu therinja yaar vanguvanga?” asks Kayal, when a character suggests she writes in her own name. While this adds intriguing layers to her character, it is compromised when she readily abandons her convictions in the face of conflict. Kayal chooses to shed her principles and writes a Hindi exam for promotion instead of revealing a potentially upsetting truth to a family member. The latter option seems a more logical and immediate solution, making her choice feel contrived. 

Kayal's character in Raghu Thatha presents a puzzling inconsistency in her stance on Hindi. Towards the end of the film, she says, “Hindi ozhiga nu naanga epo solirkom?Hindi thinippu ozhiga nu dhaan solrom,” to the owner of a Hindi sabha. However, she shuts down the Hindi sabha, which is set up to train those who are keen on learning the language. The reason given for this is that there are many places in the village with no access to electricity, so Kayal does not see the need for a Hindi sabha. But, how does a Hindi tutoring class, which does not force anyone to learn the language, impose the language? The film's ideologies become increasingly flimsy, which makes us struggle to derive any meaningful takeaway.

While the writing is as confusing as the gender grammar rules in Hindi, the actors and their performances are as valuable as the vowels in the language. Keerthy Suresh and Ravindra Vijay are Raghu Thatha's saving grace. Keerthy is confident in the way she portrays Kayal. She sells the character with all her might, even when the writing lets her down every now and then. Ravindra Vijay masterfully walks the fine line between humour and villainy as Tamil Selvan, Kayal's love interest. The supporting cast also delivers memorable performances, including Rajesh Balakrishnan as Kayal's brother Shankar, Ismath Banu as her sister-in-law Poonkothai, and Rajeev Ravindranathan as Ashish Gupta. Ashish's comedic timing, particularly his mispronunciation of Tamil words like "Unakku promotion kedacha enakku dhaaney porama… illa perumai," consistently leaves us in stitches.

Raghu Thatha is not entirely without merit. There are some refreshing moments in the film, like when a mother provides unwavering support for another woman over her own son's misbehaviour, or when Kayal says, “Veetla pengalukku edhira nadakara aniyayatha thatti ketkardha vida velila poyi poradradhu dhaan mukkiyam la,” to her grandfather, who doesn’t take a stance for his granddaughter. But such moments are few and far. For most of the climax, the audience is impatient, struggling to discern the film's intended message. Despite our patience and willingness to give the film a chance to deliver a satisfying payoff, we find ourselves echoing Tamil Selvan's mantra: “Poruthiru, Selva!” - a plea for the film to come together and make a meaningful statement.