Idli Kadai Movie Review: Dhanush cooks a comfort meal that is warm, familiar, but slightly overcooked

Roots. Interestingly, this is one of the terms that is often romanticised in our cinema to sell a utopia that plays out wonderfully in our minds. We are asked to either remember it or return to it, and the option of reminiscing about it fondly and moving on doesn’t seem to exist in our films. But this quest for our roots is a gift that keeps on giving because it is very tough to fight against the power of nostalgia. And the latest addition to this list is Dhanush’s fourth directorial venture, Idli Kadai. 

The seemingly innocuous breakfast staple is the crux of the film. Sivanesan (a terrific Rajkiran) is the owner of the titular eatery, which serves piping-hot idlis day in and day out in his hometown. He learned the recipe for serving the fluffiest of idlis from his mother, and hopes his son, Murugan, will follow in his legacy. But capitalism and globalisation come in the way of Sivanesan’s dreams, and Murugan decides to fly away to a land far, far away and try to earn money beyond his imagination. While Sivanesan initially treats this as a betrayal of his roots, he grudgingly comes to terms with it. Similarly, Murugan, who reaches Bangkok and becomes a top-level manager in a global food business owned by Vishnuvardhan (Sathyaraj), comes around and wants to make his father proud. But before that, these aspects of Murugan actually show him as a person who has let his desires cloud his judgment. 

We see how Murugan is part of a romance with Vishnuvardhan’s daughter, Meera (Shalini Pandey), that doesn’t allow him to be his true self. But he still stays in the relationship. Why? Is it because he wants to continue living a life of material comforts? Is it the same reason why he allows Vishnuvardhan’s son, Ashwin (Arun Vijay), a spoilt brat, to continue being mean to him? And when his world comes down crashing after a particularly harrowing personal loss, we understand where his sudden change of heart comes from. But it doesn’t sit right when Murugan tries to oversell this ‘rural dream’ without talking about the various nuances in that reality. 

Director: Dhanush

Cast: Dhanush, Nithya Menen, Rajkiran, Samuthirakani, Parthiban

Yes, the air is definitely less polluted, and the water might be cleaner, but life isn’t just about the accessibility to these natural resources, right? It talks about how people who leave their home, in the hope of a better future, aren’t necessarily trading their lives for the better. However, it is too vast a topic to be dealt with kid’s gloves. It paints his village of Sankarapuram as this model village where there are no caste, religion, or class differences. And that feels uneasily convenient, and it is a blemish on the kind of story that Dhanush wants to tell with Idli Kadai. If returning to one’s roots is important, then having the conditions conducive for the said return is even more important. The film misses out on such nuances and hides behind the concept of empathy and oneness that is just… nice. 

But to offset all these questions, Dhanush fills Idli Kadai with so many characters, each with definitive arcs, and performers who just need a scene or two to establish their presence. Parthiban is wonderful as the cop, whose intentions are always grey, and it is a refreshing change of pace for the actor. Be it Nithya Menen, who is given a rather thankless role in Kayal, but manages to salvage it with her cherubic vivacity, or Arun Vijay, who is given a largely one-note character, the actors serve the film more than what the writing does for them. In fact, Idli Kadai is so straightforward that when Meera asks her father, “We are not bad people, right?” we are not really rolling our eyes at the incredulity of the statement, but feel bad for the perceived innocence of the super-rich. We also have Samuthirakani having fun as the parotta-shop owner, who has an eye on Murugan’s idli kadai, and his Kayal. He delivers a couple of supremely funny killer dialogues without trying too hard, and that is why it was disappointing when his tiff with Murugan gets resolved in an unintentionally funny sequence.

The film, which talks about Murugan’s aspirations, Sivanesan’s dreams, Vishnuvardhan’s hatred, Meera’s confusion, Ashwin’s vendetta, and Kayal’s love, allows all of these portions to stew for a bit too long. The magic of cooking lies in knowing the right mix of ingredients, and Idli Kadai falters on that front. Dhanush, the writer and filmmaker, takes the easy way out in most of the scenes, especially with the ones that are reminiscent of his earlier films, including VIP. And it is important that someone lets Dhanush, the actor, know that he doesn’t have to underplay his character so much. The film, which espouses the power of returning to roots, also hardsells the agenda of Gandhian non-violence. While it is a noble thought, it feels forced into Idli Kadai simply because these portions are too stretched out. But there is something about Dhanush being vulnerable and good that he is effective in a role that might seem like a cakewalk, only because he makes it look that easy. 

In contrast, the entire sequences involving Rajkiran and Dhanush are a breeze. The way Dhanush — the actor, filmmaker, and writer — mixes in folklore, divinity, and magical realism into the narrative is such a treat to watch. There is also a scene where he looks at a couple of photo frames, and the next scene is framed from the POV of the people in the photo. It was such a wonderful idea. The same holds good with the usage of the concept of a guardian ‘garudan’ taking care of his family through the ages. A lot of these flourishes go missing when the film spends too much time on the concept of ahimsa and the Ashwin-Murugan tiff. This also leads to the warm chemistry between Murugan and Kayal remaining unexplored, and it feels shoehorned just for the sake of it. On the contrary, the film does quite a commendable exploration of parenting and its deep impact on children. The characters essayed by Rajkiran-Dhanush and Sathyaraj-Arun Vijay show two interesting shades of parenting, and even when it is obvious that the film takes sides, it doesn’t mean that one is perfect and the other isn’t.

While the songs in Idli Kadai stayed true to its territory and complemented the look and feel of the film, which felt straight out of 80s Tamil cinema, GV Prakash’s background score was coercive to a fault. But one can’t fault Idli Kadai too much simply because it is one of those films that has its heart in the right place, and needed much less focus on the side tracks. 

In a scene that plays out just before the interval block, we see an important resolution that puts a sparkle in our eyes that can only be seen in a place of comfort. If you are moved enough, there is a chance of tears streaming down those sparkling eyes, too. But soon after that scene, Idli Kadai switches tracks and forcibly takes you away from that lingering goodness. That is exactly what the film does, too. Even if it makes you roll your eyes for a while, it somehow manages to get you back to the fuzzy zone. Just like the good ol’ idlis… soft, warm, and comfortable, even if sometimes, they need better sides.