Thug Life: A Raw Take

Before we talk about Thug Life, we need to talk about the two men behind it.

Mani Ratnam is a filmmaker who doesn’t just make films  he shapes cinema. His characters are more than people; they’re mirrors. Especially his women  layered, defiant, unforgettable. His frames are silent poems, often needing no dialogue to leave a scar. You walk out of his films carrying more than just a story. You carry a feeling.

Kamal Haasan is a creator who outpaces time. Every time the industry settles into a rhythm, he breaks it. He doesn’t just perform, he invents. And he keeps pushing. Keep seeking. Keeps throwing himself into fire, just to see if he can come out changed. As an actor, director, thinker  he’s in a space of his own.

That’s why Thug Life mattered. This wasn’t just another movie. This was a moment. When Mani Ratnam and Kamal Haasan come together after decades, you don’t just expect cinema you expect history.

But this film?

It doesn’t land.

It doesn’t cut.

It doesn’t stay.

We’re in a time where directors, with shoestring budgets, are moving mountains. They’re telling honest stories, shaking theatres, touching nerves. When legends return, the expectation isn’t just quality it’s revolution.

And Thug Life gives us repetition, noise, and detachment.

Let’s not sugarcoat this.

What went wrong?

●     The Setup Feels Hollow.
The film opens with Sakthivel escaping death and quickly dumps us into a maze of names, faces, gangs, betrayals. But there’s no time to care. We’re told things. We’re shown faces. But we’re not allowed to feel a thing for any of them.

●     Repetition Without Reward.
Talks. Compromises. Backstabs. Again and again. The same peace talks. The same betrayals. Why do we need to “solve” the same mess again and again when it never builds tension or meaning?

●     Sakthivel’s Purpose Is Missing.
He’s not a hero. He’s not a villain. He’s not even in between. He’s just… there. Powerful, yes. But doing what? Protecting whom? Fighting for what? It becomes impossible to care. His arc feels self-centered. It lacks soul.

●     The Chandra Thread Is Abandoned.
Sakthivel promises Amaran he’ll find his sister, Chandra. He goes to a brothel, rescues a woman  and that’s it. The “search” ends there. Chandra later appears in the story, not because he searched, but because the script needs her to return. The promise is forgotten. The resolution is hollow.

●     No Emotional Payoff.
Betrayals should burn. Especially when they come from a family. But when Sakthivel is betrayed even by the son he raised we feel nothing. It plays out like a twist, not a tragedy.

●     Let’s Talk Nayagan.
In Nayagan, Velu Naicker rescues a woman from a brothel. That moment meant something.

○     His shame.

○     His rage.

○     His responsibility.

○     His desperation to do better.

    Every choice after that bled from that pain.

    In Thug Life?

    A woman is rescued. That’s all. There’s no weight. No consequence.

    Velu Naicker had a purpose. Sakthivel just has survival.

●     The Second Half Is Just Men Fighting.
That’s all it becomes. Men fighting men. Men wronging each other. Men killing each other.

And nobody corrects anything.

There’s no redemption. No restoration. No deeper drive.

Just brutality for the sake of it. And that’s not cinema, that's exhaustion.

●     The Proxy Son’s Role Is Cold, Not Complex.
He wants Sakthivel gone. He plots it. He executes it. And once he thinks it’s done, he takes everything  including Sakthivel’s mistress. And somehow, even this doesn’t sting. That’s how far removed the film is from its own emotional stakes.

And now, the technicals.

Yes, the cinematography is exceptional. Mani’s eye is still alive. The frames are precise, the fight choreography between Sakthivel and Amaran is stylized and sharp.

But beauty isn’t enough anymore.

Gorgeous visuals can’t fix a story with no heartbeat.

The music?

The album is fine. The background score is solid. But that’s it.

This isn’t the 90s. A good song doesn’t make a film. The score doesn’t pull us in. It doesn’t stay with us. It doesn’t become a character like in Mani’s earlier work. It’s just… background.

What makes it all worse?

This didn’t have to fail.

There’s no shortage of talent. No lack of vision. So how did no one in that room, not the makers, not the minds behind it feel what the audience would?

How did they not see this coming?

This isn’t a lazy film.

It’s an empty one.

And that’s harder to forgive.


- PEARL MAY ART