For a long time, I wondered how cool it would be if we all spoke in poetry instead of prose — using allegories, rhythmic words, and maybe even sticking to a metre. But director Siva and actor Suriya have shown me that my idea is so stupid that no one should attempt it; proving that some fantasies are better left unexplored as well. That said, Kanguva also made me realise I might have been far too harsh on Venkat Prabhu and “Thalapathy” Vijay for The Greatest of All Time (GOAT), and Koratala Siva and Jr NTR for Devara: Part 1, thinking that they were the sloppiest big-budget “pan-Indian” films of recent times. I didn’t stop to consider that something worse might be on the horizon; and yet, here we are. Also, good grief, neither did I expect S Shankar and Kamal Haasan’s Indian 2 would find a match in terms of awfulness this year itself; that’s some achievement!
Torn between two eras — 1070 and 2024 AD — and united by destiny and a promise that binds two persons across centuries and lifetimes, Kanguva’s basic plot, though tried and tested, is decent and could have made up for a good movie if handled well. From Madhumati, Dead Again, The Fountain, Om Shanti Om and Cloud Atlas to Arundhati, Magadheera and the Baahubali films, numerous films have explored this crux in different manners — some succeeding, others falling short. Nonetheless, the premise is intriguing, with plenty of room to explore intertwined destinies through dramatic storytelling. However, it’s as if the makers of Kanguva used up all their brains crafting the visuals for the 1070s portions that they simply did not have any left to develop the current era and ended up making a mockery of themselves here.
After a brief intro set in 1070, we are immediately taken to 2024 where a boy named Zeta escapes from a Russian biomedical facility near the Indian border. Zeta is one of the many children detained at the centre and subjected to experiments aimed at reprogramming them to develop superhuman abilities and among his powers is telekinesis, which he predominantly channels through his hands, as shown towards the end of the movie. If Zeta reminds you of Eleven aka Jane Hopper (Millie Bobby Brown) from Netflix’s Stranger Things, you ain’t alone my friend. But seriously, who would shamelessly lift a character from one of the world’s most popular shows and throw it into a film with zero effort to disguise it?
Though Kanguva isn’t as bad as Indian 2 overall, the first act — revolving around bounty hunter Francis Theodore (Suriya in his second role) — showed alarming potential to be just as dreadful. In fact, certain portions are so poorly executed that they rival the atrocious anti-gravity and pativrata varmam scenes in the Kamal Haasan-starrer. Laden with caricaturish moments and “jokes” that fail to amuse even with relentless tickling, the script by Adi Narayana and Siva is so egregiously poor in these parts that it’s hard to think a team of seasoned film personnel approved this mess.
Watch Kanguva trailer here:
If Vijay’s introduction in GOAT — disguised as a young “Captain” Vijayakanth — was a letdown, Suriya’s introduction here is outright infuriating. With a running commentary by his sidekick Colt 95 (Yogi Babu), Francis’ body is revealed piece by piece during a fight, culminating in a full appearance that leaves the audience bewildered, asking, “But why?!” Shortly after, we meet Francis’ ex-girlfriend Angelina (Disha Patani) and her bestie Accelerator (Redin Kingsley), who are rival bounty hunters. In an apparent attempt to mask the narrative emptiness, Siva crams the frames with excessive computer graphics, which can only be dubbed as an attempt to justify the astronomical budget spent on VFX.
In Lokesh Kanagaraj’s Vikram, the climactic action sequence uses text overlays to reveal the identities of the black ops squad’s pilot batch, a choice that aligns seamlessly with the film’s rhythm and tone. In Kanguva, a similar technique is used in the first act to introduce many of the cast members, with on-screen text bearing their details. However, the execution is so amateurish that it resembles a PowerPoint disaster, proving that even good creative ideas shouldn’t be shoehorned into a film if they don’t align with its overall aesthetics. Despite the bulk of Kanguva being a serious action-adventure, the first act feels like a parody or botched psychedelic experiment, drenched in fluorescent hues; and even if this mix of tones was intentional, the execution is so disjointed and unnatural that it feels entirely forced.
Kanguva stars Suriya in dual roles.
While Suriya and Disha’s chemistry stands at zero throughout, the weak writing, compounded by the complete lack of effort in developing Francis and Angelina as characters, only worsens the situation and the attempt to channel a Mr & Mrs Smith (2005) dynamic between them backfires, as the script fails to provide anything remotely engaging. Also, the typecasting of Kingsley as the most irritating presence on screen continues in Kanguva as well, with the Angelina-Accelerator track being downright dreadful.
Although the song “YOLO” — which too appears in the first act and the visuals make it look like a big-budget poorly-made ad film — should have worked in such a way that while establishing Francis as a carefree person it also helps in making his eventual transformation and his resolve to honour a promise from a past life more impactful, the poor execution undermines this arc, making it hard to believe a “YOLO” guy would pursue a random child based purely on ‘weird feeling’. Had Siva dialled down the psychedelic and pseudo-trippy elements, given less prominence to the various bikini sets designed for Disha to wear in “YOLO”, and focused more on the narrative nuances, Kanguva might have been more compelling.
By the time the film immerses us fully into the world of Kanguva, built impressively by production designer Milan, and the island of Perumaachi in 1070, the damage has already been done. And even if one tries to give the movie another chance, Adi Narayana and Siva’s script fails to offer anything beyond a series of clichéd “been there, seen that” moments. While many have already discussed the movie’s sound design and lacklustre music a lot, my only doubt is whether I’m the only one who felt an eerie resemblance between the Kanguva Glimpse BGM and the theme song from Uttama Villain.
By the time the film immerses us fully into the world of Kanguva, the damage has already been done.
The trailer of the movie, unveiled in August, includes the tagline “Awaken your tribal instincts,” and this warrants a critical discussion. For decades, elite storytellers have used the identities and lives of tribals in two predominant ways: either by ridiculing indigenous people and their lifestyles as “primitive and uncivilised,” often turning them into objects of mockery — Malayalam film Bamboo Boys being a particularly egregious example — or by dehumanising tribals as merely violent, animalistic beings driven by savage instincts. This second trope is evident in films like Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, Apocalypto and Baahubali: The Beginning. Such makers ignore the cultural and social ethos of tribal communities, failing to recognise them as human beings with distinct lifestyles and traditions — just as people from two countries on different continents might follow vastly different ways of life.
At the same time, tribal characters, beyond the central few may be, are not even given identities in mainstream movies most of the time and are often reduced to nameless figures; and Kanguva too is plagued by all these problematic practices. While Perumaachi is depicted as a noble land, the only character with any individuality is Kanguva aka Kanga, the son of chieftain Senthee (BS Avinash). However, even he suffers from poor characterisation; but that’s owing to subpar writing and not a complete disregard for tribals. Characters like Senthee and a fellow Perumaachian Selumaara (Karunas), despite frequent appearances, remain underdeveloped and never rise above more than just names. Meanwhile, in the neighbouring island of Araththi, home to “notorious” people, leader Udhiran (Bobby Deol) has a name and three “legitimate” sons, but none of them have souls (be it good or bad) of any sort and are one-dimensional figures whose sole purpose is to commit heinous acts. Though Kanga is presented as an emblem of compassion and righteousness, besides loyalty to his land and people, the other Perumaachians are denied the first two traits and reduced to a faceless collective, further dehumanised and treated as a herd.
Kanguva is likely to get a sequel.
As Koduvan (Natarajan Subramaniam), a man from another tribe, betrays the Perumaachians by aiding the Romans in their conquest of the island, the natives punish him by burning him alive in front of his wife and child, Poruva — whose reincarnation, in some form, is Zeta. After Koduvan’s wife also leaps into the fire, entrusting Kanga with the responsibility of raising Poruva, he takes the boy under his care, treating him like a son. However, Poruva, consumed by anger over the injustices the Perumaachians inflicted on his parents, betrays Kanga during a battle by stabbing him in the chest to exact his revenge before fleeing the land. Despite the near-fatal wound, Kanga survives and pursues Poruva, determined to fulfil his promise to the boy’s mother to protect him. In exchange for allowing Kanga to stay by his side, Poruva is assured that Kanga will willingly meet his end at Poruva’s hands after completing his mission to safeguard Perumaachi from the Romans and Udhiran. However, the way this subplot unfolds is so silly, and once noticed, it’s hard to ignore how closely it mirrors the appa-ponnu paasam in Siva’s Viswasam — the only twist being its setting in an ancient forest. Pair these scenes with Viswasam’s “Kannaana Kanney” track and the resemblance becomes impossible to shake off.
While the action sequences, choreographed by Supreme Sundar, are undeniably grand — with highlights being the fight using elephant tusks and the scene where women, inspired by Kanga’s martial arts teachings, fiercely battle their rivals — these moments too fail to redeem the film. The Kanga vs crocodile fight, on the other hand, feels like a clear “every masterpiece has its cheap copy” instance, as it’s clearly intended to replicate the adrenaline-pumping Bheem (Jr NTR) vs tiger sequence from RRR. Unfortunately, the Kanguva scene comes off as a drawn-out and purposeless affair.
Suriya in Kanguva.
Even the climactic action sequence, which had significant potential, is ultimately undermined by Siva and editor Nishadh Yusuf’s failure to execute the cross-cutting between the 1070s and 2024 timelines seamlessly. The parallel struggles of Kanga and Francis to save Poruva and Zeta, respectively, are muddled by clunky making and the overwhelming cacophony of both Kanga’s and Poruva’s desperate cries for help. While Suriya’s screen presence and dedication have given Kanguva a distinct image, his performance doesn’t even make it to his top 10.
The Rs 350-crore movie also highlights the troubling state of mainstream Indian filmmaking, where most creators are unable or don’t know how to craft a solid, tight script. Instead, they rely on stringing together a sequence of events and attempting to make multi-part films with huge budgets, claiming they are ambitious “pan-India” projects. It’s surprising that the makers have already announced a sequel to Kanguva, despite the film being so lacking in substance. What’s even more troubling is that, in spite of consecutive failures of such projects, makers remain unwilling to reflect on why their films fell short and are more interested in suppressing public opinion and reviews, thinking this would make all their movies successful no matter how bad they are.
Had Siva adhered to the 1070 timeline and focused on delivering at least a reasonably decent movie, rather than overstretching the narrative by paralleling it with a contemporary storyline and tacking on a sequel tease featuring another big star — Suriya’s brother Karthi — promising one of the most anticipated on-screen collaborations between the siblings, Kanguva might have been salvageable. Then again, who’s to say Siva wouldn’t have found yet another way to spectacularly ruin his own project?
Cinema cannot exist in a vacuum; it’s all about the discussions that follow. In the Cinema Anatomy column, we delve into the diverse layers and dimensions of films, aiming to uncover deeper meanings and foster continuous discourses.
