Jana Nayagan Movie Review:
Hate. Mahatma Gandhi once said that the biggest enemy, as many think, is not hate, but fear. But the powers that be know that the easiest way to dissipate this fear is hate. If you are afraid of something, you might stay away from it. But when you hate something, you want it to be vanquished. That’s what is happening across the world right now, and H Vinoth’s latest film, Jana Nayagan, explores the agenda of hate. While the core idea of Tamil Nadu CM Joseph Vijay’s Jana Nayagan might seem similar, the agenda is more political, the electoral kind. Vijay’s cinematic swansong tries to balance both agendas, but warning bells for the future stand no chance against a fiery political speech that is delivered by a charming Pied Piper.
Firstly, Vijay, as Thalapathy Vetri Kondan, is at his charismatic best in Jana Nayagan. He does everything that made him the beloved superstar of fans across generations. He dances like a charm, especially in 'Thalapathy Kacheri' and that extended portion where he turns back the clock to take us through a nostalgic ride. There is a wonderful way he uses properties during action sequences, and we see that in full display throughout the film. When he realises the extent of love his daughter, Viji (Mamitha Baiju), actually has for him, there are glimpses of the Vijay who aces emotional sequences with a lot of flair. We also see the playful side of him in scenes peppered in Jana Nayagan, which also has Vijay simmering with intense ferocity. And yet, as Thalapathy Vetri Kondan, we are also made to forget that this was an actor who entertained us with abandon. Here’s a Vijay who wanted this film to be his unabashed political vehicle.
In Jana Nayagan, politics is not discussed or debated. It is shouted through a megaphone, ending up less a conversation and more of a monologue. Vetri talks about every issue that stems from political apathy, but there is no place for nuanced discussion because Vijay didn’t have enough time. The film was supposed to be released before the Tamil Nadu elections, and the political digs against his opponents aren’t hidden. But, considering how politics is stranger than fiction, he is now the Chief Minister of Tamil Nadu, and certain potshots also end up as shooting his own journey in the foot. But again, it all gets drowned down in the incessant cheers of fans who would lap it all up to see their matinee idol on the screen for one final time. Whenever the cheers and wolf-whistles take a breather, Vinoth enters the fray to tell the story of John Himmler (Bobby Deol), who is showcased as the ‘Death Merchant’ with a world-domination agenda. And what is his preferred choice of weapon: Fear-induced hate.
Oh, also, Jana Nayagan is a remake of Bhagavanth Kesari, the 2023 Anil Ravipudi film, starring Nandamuri Balakrishna and Sreeleela. In fact, it was the most sobering character of Balayya in over a decade, and we saw him resort to the iconic Balayya-isms only in the stunt sequences. While Jana Nayagan takes various plot points from Bhagavanth Kesari, especially the equation between Vetri and Viji, it also is its own beast, thanks to Vinoth’s vision. It is interesting how Vinoth remained most faithful to Bhagavanth Kesari when sketching Vijay’s character, and went on such random tangents when figuring out Bobby’s arc. Himmler is an interesting villain with a strong drive and reason to turn evil. It might not be new, but it isn’t without merit. Vijay is relegated to playing yet another iteration of a character from his post-Thuppakki phase. He is a man with a past, an especially gory one, and finds himself at loggerheads with an antagonist who is the reason behind his past being gory. And finally, when they fight it out, it also means Vijay gets to dole out a few pertinent points to society, while vanquishing the villain and everything he stands for.
Director: H Vinoth
Cast: Vijay, Mamitha Baiju, Bobby Deol, Pooja Hegde
But due to the overt focus on Himmler and his machinations, Vinoth rushes through the emotions that bind Vetri and Viji. We are just shown a couple of songs and montage sequences that don’t really do justice to their relationship. The same holds true with Vetri’s equations with other women in the film, including his mother (Revathy) and Kayal (Pooja Hegde). Even in these portions, there are some nifty touches, especially in the way Gautham Vasudev Menon, in a cameo, calls Thalapathy Vetri Kondan as Vetri, and not Thalapathy. In a film where every character calls him by his real-life moniker, this felt like a refreshing change of pace. It also shines through in the way Vinoth made Kayal a journalist. This gives her role enough agency to be not just an arm candy or a reactionary character. Mamitha gets a slightly raw deal because, apart from a whistle-worthy sequence in the final act, she doesn’t have much to do. On the other hand, even though Bobby Deol mouths all his dialogues in Hindi, thereby not even trying to lip-sync the Tamil dialogues, he isn’t playing a template villain. Yes, the ambitions might be similar to many other films, including his very own Alpha, but this is more in the Pakshirajan from 2.0 territory. And Prakash Raj proves once again why there are very few actors like him who make villainy seem evil yet entertaining. Also, Anirudh’s songs and Sathyan Sooryan’s frames take care of pumping the adrenaline when the narrative dips. This clearly indicates that Vinoth knew what a star vehicle entails and tried not to mount that ride whenever he could. But when it becomes an unabashed political vehicle, Vinoth didn’t have any choice but to cater to the same.
There are just too many detours in Jana Nayagan. We have humanoids, drone attacks, proliferation of gun culture in India, the infighting in Africa, the ‘bad Muslims’ who are planting bombs in Chennai, the ‘good Muslims’ who do their bit for society, religious harmony, women empowerment, the importance of teaching children the difference between good touch and bad touch, and mankind’s fundamental nature of buying into toxicity. However, it isn’t like all of these ideas are executed well, and not all of them are fully developed, which makes it even more troubling.
Just like Vinoth, let’s take a detour to point out two aspects of the film that felt, let’s say, off. The flashback sequence featuring Raichal Rebecca, who plays a woman suffering immense trauma at the hands of the system. While these scenes are emotionally compelling, they are also unnecessarily grotesque. The lack of sensitivity is appalling, and Jana Nayagan would have benefitted from a lot of it. Similarly, positioning himself as MGR’s political heir apparent feels too in-your-face. Of course, subtlety is not the middle name of the already cluttered Thalapathy Vetri Kondan. But imagine you are made to search for subtlety, even in a film where you are ready to surrender to the OTT-ness of it all.
Considering the various detours in the film, Jana Nayagan feels like more Shankaresque than even recent Shankar films. But many of these detours don’t reach the right destinations because Vinoth is more interested in exploring human behaviour rather than allowing organic mass masala moments to reach their crescendo. Vinoth doesn’t allow all of these moments to linger because he is in a hurry to tell what he wanted to say through the platform he has got, courtesy Vijay. On the other hand, Vijay is in a rush to ensure all his political opponents are given a rap on their knuckles. But the one point where Vijay and Vinoth come together to give their best is in scenes that give people the responsibility of doing the right things. At the end of the day, in the halls of this hallowed institution called democracy, anyone can be cut down to size, and anyone can be elevated to the highest seat. And who better to show the power of people, the power of choice, the power of belief, the power of hate, the power of love, the power of stardom, and the power of democracy than the Jana Nayagan.
