Of course they do.
He chases them in the train; follows them as they climb atop it. An impromptu red carpet unfolds for him, and he uses it in ways only he can.
It’s his movie.
And when the cop whisks the intruders away, he tells them to “Move it.” Twice.
The director must’ve listened to the cop. If nothing else, he keeps things chugging along.
KS Ravikumar is a clever operator. He takes a mushy premise rich in sentiment, and lets it play to the galleries without overdoing it.
A tight screenplay that is done just right – a murder in the first few minutes; a lighthearted heist; an emotional flashback; and an overdrawn climax that lets us have our fill.
The writing is made to order for Rajinikanth. He doesn’t just read about tragedies in newspapers, they happen when he happens to be looking. He doesn’t just help build a dam, he does it with his own two hands and his own…
But it’s a Rajinikath film. That’s how it is supposed to be.
The very pretty Sonakshi Sinha has a role made to tug at heartstrings. And tug she does.
Meanwhile, Rajinikanth looks several years younger than he did in most of his recent movies.
A visibly slower, but cool as ever Thalaivar effortlessly carries the movie on his shoulders. He paces around stylishly while designing blueprints for the dam of his dreams, as the dame of his dreams (sorry) looks on.
And he is equally at home with Anushka for company as he plans a heist from a narrow closet.
There is a little Kochadaiiyaan in the movie. Or maybe a lot. The historical context; the son and the dad. The inspiring speech to his army. The hurriedly done background score.
But Lingaa is real. It has a walking, talking Superstar. A wisecracking Santhanam that is not irritating.
Lingaa is better in every way. Except Deepika Padukone.
But what of the flaws, you say? What flaws?
The one where the most garish background score leads to the most touching birthday celebration, where the entire theater sings happy birthday?
Or the one where the villains are cartoonish and ineffective? But who wouldn’t be if you’re up against Him?
When you can turn someone frying an appalam to make one well up in tears, you’re excused a flaw. Or ten.
Cinematographer Ratnavelu employs a combination of acute top angles and very wide angles to create an impressive looking backdrop for the film. The dam looks massive, the locales gorgeous.
And Rajinikanth looks like a million dollars. He really does.
Did I mention Sonakshi Sinha was pretty? Oh yes, she was.
Ravikumar deserves credit for not overdoing the emotions. For letting the son finish what his dad started; but in the most unexpected way possible. K Vishwanath’s maudlin speeches make you want to roll your eyes.
Here Rajinikanth rolls his along with you.
There are some songs in the movie. Rajinikanth looks pleasant in them. So do his co-stars.
The wisecracking Santhanam and Karunakaran provide occasional comic relief, but the subtitles fill in where they cannot. Embellished gibberish; everything is made to sound lyrical. Pity if you thought nanba was a mere friend. No, that would be a boon companion. A bosom pal.
Then, you have Sir Galahad the gallant fight. Also, a Pot of Desire Nectaurus.
While one of the heroines was a glam doll genuine. Why? Because, genuine rhymes with gasoline. Just like Beauty Celestine does.
And then, something called Lapis Lazuli.
I’m afraid to find out what it means.
It was the loudest movie theater I’ve ever seen. And kindred souls they are, they clapped loudest for an improbable leap towards the end.
The guy near me took his shirt off to twirl it when Rajinikanth first appeared. He never put it back on.
He high-fived me as I left the theater.
It was close to freezing outside, and the movie had been awesome.
The Lingaa 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 an advertising relationship with movies that are reviewed on the site. But you knew that, didn’t you?