‘JC The University’ Movie Review: A Sharp Gangster Origin That Unravels Toward the End

“You call it rowdyism, I call it self-respect,” says Madhusudhan (Surya Prakhyath) in a heated moment in Kannada thriller JC The University. The stray line perfectly encapsulates the ethos of the film. Chethan Jayaram’s crime thriller is bursting at the seams with gangsters. In fact, it even starts with a brief foreword of the top goondas of Bengaluru, who barely appear in the film. But this isn’t a story about the workings of a gang or the glorified clashes between groups who want to eventually rule the city. It’s about the people on the outside, the fall guys, the man on the periphery who will give up his life for a meaningless pursuit of money, a student with anger issues who unwittingly gets caught up in the underbelly of the city. It’s about the vanity of rowdyism. 

The Kannada film lays out its intention bare right from the beginning. It shows us glimpses of several rowdies in Bengaluru — including Kavala, Kumari, and Raaka — fleetingly telling us what they do to terrorise the city’s peace. Talks about a murder begin to float, people on the outside engage with notorious rowdies inside the ringer, and loyalties are tested. But none of this registers because this is not where its interests lie. It soon cuts to the life of Madhusudhan alias Maddy, an innocent-looking college student who suddenly finds himself in jail, bang in the middle of rusty shivs, bathroom scuffles, steelware full of stale food, and men who want to kill him. We’re as intrigued as the inmates. What would bring a guy like him inside? What could he have possibly done to be on trial with men who have murdered their own family?

We’re strung along quite effectively before the big reveal is made. In the meantime, Maddy learns the A-Z of prison through a man named A-Z, who takes a liking to him just because he’s from his neighbourhood. The film’s title leans into judicial custody (JC) that often materialises into a university for criminals, where young outliers graduate as eager thugs. The first half of the film depicts this irony quite well. When we learn that Maddy’s descent into crime could’ve been stopped if he had just driven through a straighter route to a wedding, things become clear. Maddy’s sole purpose in life is to take down Raaka, a rowdy who messes with him and his girlfriend. But the real reason why Maddy is triggered is the hurt male ego.

This spiral takes him to dangerous places, which make for interesting cinema. The film hits pause with a superb intermission, taking Maddy to a world he never knew existed. His hands are now tainted with more blood than he ever imagined. But this is also where the film slips. Once it lands this high, JC doesn’t know how to take things forward because it shifts from an action drama to a morality action drama. Suddenly, Maddy is confronted with many questions. Should he leave his life behind and go back to his family? Has he irrevocably left his father (Rangayana Raghu) disappointed? Will he ever stop confusing fear for love again?

But we hardly get the answers to these questions, and neither does Maddy. For Maddy’s transformation to work, the film needed strong emotional scenes between him and the people around him. He converts the inmates inside the jail into friends outside, but we hardly see this translated on screen. When a close friend deserts him for money, he doesn’t flinch. When his new life deeply rattles his girlfriend and father, he barely mourns the loss of his old life. It's as though he always wanted to be a criminal. These portions needed a lot more depth and direction. Prakhyath isn't always able to depict the complexities of lost innocence.

The track with Raaka seems disingenuous — also because the villain is reduced to being a caricature —and disengages us from Maddy's world. The film eventually does get back to its taut observation of violence. But as Maddy disappears into a new world of gangsters, the film largely follows.