Another year is drawing to a close and much like the previous years, this one too has been a rollercoaster ride for the film industry. With the rise in the number of big-budget “pan-Indian” films, all aiming to become the highest-grossers, the focus of both audiences and filmmakers has shifted to box office numbers. The latest example of this is director Sukumar’s Pushpa 2: The Rule, featuring Allu Arjun, Rashmika Mandanna and Fahadh Faasil. Despite receiving mixed to negative reviews, the action drama is quickly surpassing various collection milestones, positioning itself to become one of the biggest successes in Indian cinematic history. However, like many recent “pan-Indian” movies, Pushpa 2 raises a pressing question: once the initial excitement fades, will the film hold lasting significance? Will it stand the test of time? Or, more pointedly, does it possess the qualities to stand the test of time? Ifs and buts would mar any answer regarding Pushpa 2’s quality and this holds true for most pan-Indian films. This phenomenon has also highlighted that makers are struggling to make superstar-driven films, unsure of how to strike the right balance. In such a landscape, director Suresh Krissna’s iconic gangster drama Baashha, starring Rajinikanth, becomes all the more important — offering a timeless example of how to craft the perfect superstar film without sacrificing quality.
Unlike many current star-driven films that start with a massive, adrenaline-pumping intro sequence — often leaving the rest of the movie struggling to match the energy — Baashha introduces Rajinikanth, who turns 74 on Thursday, not as the “Style Mannan” or through a high-octane action sequence, but as a figure loved by the masses. After the film opens with the iconic “Super Star” graphic title card and a jingle, reminiscent of the James Bond theme, we’re introduced to Manikam through references to his humanitarian work, especially for auto rickshaw drivers. This portrayal gave him an “Ezhai Thozhan” (friend to the poor) image, positioning him almost as the rightful heir to MG Ramachandran (MGR). The choice of auto rickshaws also added significance, as they are seen as the most accessible transport for the common people, further connecting Rajinikanth to the masses. Having started his career as a bus conductor, seeing him in a khaki uniform after achieving superstardom resonated deeply with the audience, adding a sense of relatability.
When we see Manikam (Rajinikanth) for the first time, the visuals aren’t accompanied by a song boasting about his greatness or exaggerating his abilities. Instead, through the verses, he says, “Naan prasavathuku ilavasama vaarenma, un pillaikoru peru vachum thaarenmaa (If you’re going into labour, I’ll take you to the hospital for free; I’ll even help you find a good name for your child),” which endears him to the audience further through his kindness.
One of the reasons Baashha remains a fan favourite is that it’s not just about the don, Rajinikanth or his superstardom — it’s about Manikam’s deep love for his family, which Krissna masterfully brought to life. After the song, the first scene shows Manikam and his family celebrating his younger brother Shiva (Shashi Kumar) passing the SI exam, highlighting the importance he gives his family. With moments of warmth and affection, Krissna dedicated this part entirely to building Manikam’s world, emphasising his willingness to go to any lengths for his loved ones. This depiction also helped the movie state that it’s not his physical strength that defines him as Baashha, but his unwavering courage and determination to protect those he holds dear. The filmmaker effectively showcased this through several memorable scenes, including Manikam meeting the DIG — despite knowing it could blow his cover — just for his brother; standing silently while rowdies destroy his auto; enduring humiliation at his sister’s boyfriend’s house; and taking beatings from rivals to protect his brother.
Unlike many current star-driven films that start with a massive, adrenaline-pumping intro sequence, Baashha introduces Rajinikanth as a figure loved by the masses. (Image: IMDb)
To cater to the newer generation’s shorter attention spans and also distract viewers from the shallow narratives, “pan-Indian” films tend to bombard the audiences with one high-energy scene after another; almost to an extent leaving fans exhausted by the time the film reaches its climax. In Baashha, Krissna takes a bold risk and delays Manikam’s transformation into a gangster until the middle of the film. Until then, Manikam is presented simply as an auto driver, projecting an image of someone incapable of anger. Though hints of his past are revealed through brief flashbacks and the expressions of others, Krissna keeps the suspense intact, building tension until the right moment. This risky choice worked because Krissna carefully prioritised the story over Rajinikanth’s superstar status, a balance that modern star-driven films often fail to achieve due to the trend of delivering high points every few minutes.
Also, Baashha wouldn’t have had the same impact without Mark Antony (Raghuvaran), the film’s formidable villain. What makes Antony such an iconic antagonist is not just his menace or ruthlessness, but the depth of his character — his emotions, arc and the losses he endured in the battle. Much like the protagonist, it is not his physical power that defines Antony, but the personal setbacks that fuel his enmity towards Baashha. Through sharply written scenes, exceptional dialogue and Deva’s electrifying music, Krissna built a world grounded in emotions, rather than spectacle, something that “pan-Indian” filmmakers often fail to grasp; as a result, many of these films end up as nothing more than forgettable visual spectacles.
In Baashha, director Suresh Krissna takes a bold risk and delays Manikam’s transformation into a gangster until the middle of the film. (Image: IMDb)
While praising Baashha, it would be remiss not to acknowledge its major flaw: the extremely poor portrayal of women, particularly the female lead Priya (Nagma). The women in Baashha exist solely in relation to the male figures and they have no existence otherwise. While Priya does have more purpose and depth compared to Aadhya (Shruti Haasan) in Salaar: Part 1 – Ceasefire, Angela (Disha Patani) in Kanguva and Disha (Rakul Preet Singh) in Indian 2 combined, the persistent objectification and sexualisation of women — seen at troubling levels in films like Pushpa 2 — can be easily traced back to Baashha and even earlier. Sadly, this remains a deeply ingrained issue in cinema that we have yet to overcome.
After director Payal Kapadia’s All We Imagine as Light got two nods at the 82nd Golden Globe Awards, renowned filmmaker Vikramaditya Motwane criticised the makers of Pushpa 2 for monopolising multiplexes by bringing them under contracts that require them to screen no other films for the first 10 days of its release. This leaves moviegoers with a stark choice: either watch Pushpa 2 or watch nothing at all. While Mythri Movie Makers, the production company behind Pushpa 2, continues to flood social media with posters highlighting the film’s record-breaking achievements, Motwane’s post, citing a Times Now report, has exposed how such blockbuster films create a form of market exclusivity, where audiences have no option but to watch them. Despite going overboard with promotions, creating a sense of urgency — suggesting that not watching the film is akin to missing out on something monumental — such big films still need to resort to monopolistic tactics — that eventually benefit only the respective investors — and this underscores the troubling state of the industry.
Baashha wouldn’t have had the same impact without Mark Antony (Raghuvaran), the film’s formidable villain. (Image: IMDb)
At the same time, the primary reason these movies fail to progress beyond a certain point is their lack of quality, as seen this year with “pan-Indian” films like Kalki 2898 AD, The Greatest of All Time, Singham Again, Devara: Part 1, Vettaiyan, Indian 2 and Kanguva. Unfortunately, we’ve reached a point where the onus of making these films blockbusters is on the public. Even if we want to see something else, it often feels like we have no choice but to watch what major production houses and multiplex chains dictate. Frustratingly, such big firms are only satisfied when a film becomes the “biggest grosser of all time” or at least when it breaks a couple of records. If that doesn’t happen, they quickly play the victim card, blaming everything but the film’s poor quality or their decision to spend vast amounts on underwhelming content without realising that overspending and overselling won’t recover the investment. At dire times like this, the best option would be to keep calm, watch Baashha and see how Rajini used to do it.
