The film begins with a scene where the hero (Kathir) has an ego clash with his friend over a mutta-dosai (egg dosa) at a local joint. When he next meets this friend, at a later point in the story, the friend is in a needy position. Kathir tells him, ‘Oru mutta-dosai ku evlo scene potta..?’ (Back then you made such a scene over an egg-dosai?). That’s Kathir for us. Angry.
Kathir is an overzealous, unemployed man, with a wife and infant to look after. But doesn’t think he needs to get a job. He drinks with his buddies. Gambles. Visits his family once a week. They don’t seem to mind either. Kathir then lands in the police department, along with a group of jobless youngsters. They help the police with information on local crimes, towing vehicles from ‘no-parking spaces’, and so on. Jobs like that. Jobs the policemen consider menial. He enjoys the sense of power, however little that power may be, and uses it for his own benefit.
To say that Kathir’s acting is a revelation would be an understatement. His performance convincingly draws the audience into the story. He excels at emoting with his eyes. Pain, happiness, anger, love and betrayal. All through his eyes.
Kathir carries the film on his shoulders with a solid performance, and has raised the bar in terms of audience expectations from him.
Another outstanding artist is, surprisingly, Charlie. His acting is significantly different from the wannabe-funny roles he has delivered thus far. David Solomon also shines as the enigmatic Soundarapandian, a police officer who takes a liking to Kathir.
Music composer Kay is known for unconventional arrangements, and proves his mettle once again with a number of quirky songs. (For once, Gana Bala’s singing does not sound redundant.) Kay’s re-recording is soulful, and amply enhances the mood of the film. Speaking of mood, director Anucharan’s crisp handling of the editing is a huge plus. The editing is coherent with the BGM and leaves us with a short and gripping 104-minute film.
While the concept of the police hiring seemingly good-for-nothing youth sounds interesting, as far as realism goes, it isn’t a particularly convincing plot device.
And just for that, if nothing else, Kirumi becomes a film to remember, as we leave the theatre.
Special kudos to Manikandan (or Kaakka Muttai Manikandan, as he is now universally called) and Anucharan, for a mostly realistic and largely gripping script. A little more attention to detail and dialogue, and Kirumi could have claimed a place in the annals of classic crime thrillers.
The Kirumi 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.