Where does one begin while setting out to describe the control Arun Matheswaran’s exercises over his source material, in what is easily his most complete film? In a series of staging masterclasses, Arun finds crackling new ways to lift what’s on paper to deliver a moment that feels satisfying in so many ways that you forget that you’ve perhaps scene this exact situation plays out in a hundred gangster dramas before. You can point to the half dozen action blocks to make the case for Arun’s superior cinematic eye but it’s in the “smaller”, more tender moments that you see a new side to this filmmaker.
An instant favourite is the first interaction between Das (Lokesh Kanagaraj) and Parvathi (Sanjana Krishnamoorthy) as they break ice in a seedy bedroom. They’ve decided to call each other strangers, and they also discover that it’s easier to bear one’s soul when you know nothing about the person sitting opposite you. As we see Parvathi’s reflection on a mirror as she removes layer after layer of makeup, she’s exposing Dev to a side of her she herself hasn’t had the courage to stare straight at.
Scenes later, when a cop on the lookout for Das, accidentally shoots at Parvathi, it’s the broken shards of the same mirror that exposes Das to what he’s really lost. It’s an incredibly well-shot sequence, with a mid-shot that reveals just how good Lokesh is an actor. It’s also the most inventive way to plant you knee-deep into yet another iteration of Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay’s Devdas and still get you to feel like you’ve never heard this story before.
It’s Arun’s re-interpretation of the novel that makes all the difference. He takes three central epic characters and places them into a world full of gangsters, guns and moral ambiguity. His Devdas is just as traumatised as those that came before him, but he doesn’t have the time nor the luxury to drown in self-pity like his predecessors. Morally too, Arun Matheswaran’s Devdas appears the most righteous, even when you see the character pummel past a small army of police officers. The irony isn’t lost on us even later when we’re told that Devdas’ gangleader is a man named Arasu (which translates to 'government' in Tamil) in a film that has them go after the same system that creates gangsters like him.
But even these elegant re-touches to the Devdas story doesn’t quite prepare you for what DC is really about. In an exquisitely designed montage, stitched together over Anirudh’s rousing ‘Bum Ba Diga’, we see Das getting flogged by cops as we crosscut to the same number of men entering and then exiting Chandra’s (Wamiqa Gabbi) bedroom. The form of violence being inflicted on both Das and Chandra may be wildly different, but with just this one delicate crosscut, both Das and Chandra appear to be bonded by misery, creating the illusion of a deep emotional connection between them, even before they’ve even met.
And when both Das and Chandra do meet eventually, the screen is instantly set on fire, helped in no small measure by Anirudh’s Raga Of Revenge. Every single detail in the film and every instance of restraint seems to have been held back, just for this sequence to come alive. The violence that follows feels earned in an orgy of excesses in what could be termed the blood-soaked corridor of doom. But the splatter of blood is also symbolic of other layers too because what this scene signals is a rebirth for both Das and Chandra.
It’s after this mega sequence that we see DC settle into a more gradual, easy pacing. From the foundation it builds over the Devdas story, this is also where the film (obvious Easter Eggs too have been inserted) develops into variations of two other epics — Sadma and Bonny And Clyde. Through the lens of Sadma, we see how Chandra remains childlike, having experienced the outside world for the first time after decades in captivity. We see her discover looking at the ocean in utmost wonder as the film cuts to its first ultra-wide shot (Mukesh G is spectacular as the DOP) in all its runtime. As day turns into night and as Chandra introduces herself more formally to Das, we see editor Prasanna insert a lovely dissolve of the full moon, arguably Chandra’s first meeting of her namesake.
But as a modern-day iteration of Bonny And Clyde is where DC allows us to have some of the coolest type of fun we’ve had in a really long time. It’s no longer a film about people who want to live well as it is about people who just want to not die. As the film falls into an infinite loop of chases with the cops right on the gang’s tale, their survival becomes important to us, especially because Chandra and Das begin to matter to us. Das, who has lost everyone he’s loved so far, fears that he will lose Chandra too. In a shot that feels surprisingly tender, we see Das’ fingers searching for Chandra sitting next to him, but not because he craves intimacy. He just wants the gentle touch, to make sure that she’s still there right next to him.
It’s moments such as these that work so hard to make DC more than just a cool gangster drama. Their morality is spelt out so clearly that their violent ways stop being a bother. We buy into their poetic justice, hoping for both Das and Chandra to find their moment of peace. Anirudh lifts so many scenes to such heights that it easily becomes his most accomplished work in many months. Wamiqa expertly mixes up the wide-eyed innocence of a little girl with that of the cold brutality of a woman who has been defeated by the world, without it ever feeling like two different characters.
But what makes the biggest impact is the performance of Lokesh Kanagaraj. In what may have easily been interpreted as emotionless, he finds a precious balance with which he’s able to convey everything without doing anything. The film’s dialogues speak of Das being a hothead, but Lokesh doesn’t need any scenes of him exploding to make us feel his anger. There are no emotional monologues or outbursts to make us believe that he’s the broken Devdas; he just is, finding a level of comfort in front of the camera that takes lesser actors years to cultivate. As all of their efforts meld together, we’re just not left with a film with loads of whistle-worthy moments, but also an ultra-cool gangster drama in Tamil, just when you thought you had sworn off them.