If there is a defining moment in Indrajith – one that would sum up the whole movie, story, aesthetics, casting and all – it is this: Gautham Karthik, as the eponymous Indrajith, stands at the door of an airplane that is steadily climbing into the sky. The plane looks like it’s in a hurry, all revved up engine, wind beating down on panes. It’s a rickety old one, the inside of which looks like a cross between a cargo dump and a badly-built train. Indrajith stands at the open door of the plane, as one would in a local train or a bus, rescues his pet puppy, dramatically, a la DDLJ, and brings him on board. All the while, the aircraft is on a steep incline. This isn’t a spoof of some sort, but earnest, from-the-heart filmmaking, the moment propped up to be one that would keep the audience on the edge of their seats. Only, the audience doesn’t quite know how to react. There’s a chuckle heard every now and then, and one wonders aloud if Selvaraghavan could have handled it better – for of course, the stunts aside, it’s a subject familiar to the filmmaker.
An ex-ASI chief discovers something of interest in his family legacy: An ancient scroll that would lead him to buried treasure – in this case, a tiny meteorite said to possess medicinal powers. So, to trace the object, he adds a new member to his team – a goofy someone who is a stark reminder of his father. But that’s the way with star kids, more often than not. If Atharvaa had exhibited a streak of wallowing in unrequited love, Gautham Karthik attempts to channel his father’s… jauntiness in every scene. There’s a spring in his step, he always has a wisecrack or two – not entirely wise or funny – and seems to magic himself out of any sticky situation. On paper, at least. On the screen, his dialogues fall flat, fail to elicit cheer – or worse, any emotion – and are faintly reminiscent of Ullathai Alli Thaa for reasons that we can’t wholly comprehend. Perhaps it’s the way he’s with women. When Indrajith opens, Gautham Karthik tries to charm an air hostess, all for some untimely hot chocolate. He compliments her perfume (‘Chanel? I like it, too’), her smile and soon, she’s all but butter. Unsurprisingly, it works – because, how can it not? He’s the hero, and he’s someone whom no woman can resist. You can’t call the hero creepy now, can you?
Meanwhile, in their quest to find the meteorite, the team encounters every kind of hurdle there is. From confronting ‘rebel groups’ in remote Arunachal Pradesh – men with matching red bandanas conversing in Hindi – to a rival ASI faction and several CGI animals – one of them a royal Bengal tiger – Indrajith, with a background score all to himself, finds the medicinal stone. It pulsates from under a Linga, neon blue; but before he could get his hands on it, he passes out from a snake bite. And, in what we thought happened only in movies from the 90s, another CGI serpent, not quite unlike the one in the Mudhalvan song, revives him. Come to think of it, it’s not entirely implausible after the glorious airplane stunt; but, it’s a shame, really, because if Indrajith’s intents were clearer, it would have made for some nice, idle entertainment, if nothing else. The one with which we know we can’t really nitpick, or look for explanations. Something that is meant to be laughed with, or at, and not quite reviewed in a reviewer’s fashion.
The Indrajith review is a Silverscreen original article. It was not paid for or commissioned by anyone associated with the movie. Silverscreen.in and its writers do not have any commercial relationship with movies that are reviewed on the site.