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In 1958, Ritwik Ghatak invented a world in Ajantrik where even a car became a beloved character. It was a unique idea firmly anchored in a sound screenplay that seldom saw repeated on Indian screens. In Tharun Moorthy’s Thudarum, a vintage black Ambassador car is not only Shanmugham’s (Mohanlal) prized possession but also a younger sibling who silently supports him through a series of life-altering events.
Early in the film, Moorthy sets the tone, establishing Shanmugham (popularly known as Benz) as a man deeply rooted in memories. His home is adorned with an unusual number of photographs from his days as a stuntman in Madras. Even after two decades away from the city, Benz remains in touch with his mentor, Palani Master (Bharathiraja, in a heartbreaking cameo). In the hillside town of Ranni in Kerala, Benz leads a contented life, offering taxi rides, supported by his industrious, mill-owner wife Lalitha (Shobana), and their children (Thomas Mathew and Amritha Varshini).
You witness the man’s deep love for his car and his family’s playful disdain for it. The first jolt comes when his son’s car-obsessed friend, Kiran (Sangeeth Prathap), takes Benz’s prized Ambassador for a spin. One thing leads to another, and the car ends up at the local police station. No amount of persuasion can convince the egoistic SI Benny Kurian (Binu Pappu) to release it. As a last resort, Benz turns to the more affable CI George Mathan (Prakash Varma) in a decision that changes the course of the film.
Running for 166 minutes, Thudarum isn’t fond of a concise format. Even then, Moorthy shows little interest in taking the syrupy Jeethu Joseph route we saw in Drishyam. What the filmmaker seems to favour instead are moments rich in drama. If you live in the nostalgia of Mohanlal from the so-called ‘good old days’, Thudarum offers plenty to savour. In one of its most poignant moments, Benz is seen quietly sobbing in a night train compartment. The man’s grief is noticed only by a little kid whose amused gaze he dismisses with a subtle blink. Drama, mood, nostalgia, and performance – the scene has it all.
A close-knit family unit and a calamity aside, the film is less comparable to Drishyam, as it never ventures into the territory of a suspense thriller. If we must draw a parallel to a Mohanlal film, Thudarum is closer in spirit to Bhramaram, but with the tougher payback tone of Naran. In the absence of major twists, it is left to us to root for Benz, admiring his strength and strategy. Helping the audience along are Moorthy’s villains, George and Benny, who are selfish and despicable, projecting the harsh realities of police brutality.
Thudarum also serves as a smooth meta piece, weaving in several timeless Mohanlal references from “Mone Dinesha” (Narasimham) to “Namukku choych choych pokam” (Ayal Kadhayezhuthukayanu). Moorthy ensures these nods are never overdone, avoiding the trap of turning the film into mere fan service. However, Thudarum doesn’t satisfy our hunger for the iconic Mohanlal-Shobana pairing, as the film is less about their romance. The absence of lighter moments is a slight letdown, especially given how rare it is to see Mohanlal alongside a leading lady with whom he shares such effortless chemistry. Perhaps it’s Meena’s gain (Drishyam, Munthirivallikal Thalirkkumbol, and Bro Daddy) and Shobana’s loss.
DOP Shaji Kumar is given a vast canvas, allowing him to envision several night sequences, torrential rain, and a harrowing landslide. Editors (the late Nishadh Yusuf and Shafeeque V. B.) craft a narrative that remains engaging, despite the film’s length. Jakes Bejoy’s music stands as one of the film’s key strengths. While the MG Sreekumar song adds a sense of nostalgia, the original score infuses Thudarum with the eerie atmosphere it requires. Stunt Silva’s action sequences bring Moorthy’s vision to life. The combination of raw punches, slow-motion shots, and the intense drama of night rain makes this the best Mohanlal action film since Pulimurugan (2016).
Speaking of the lead, Mohanlal seems to be having a blast as Benz. This part suits him perfectly because it blends drama, action, and a touch of comedy. The Sabarimala setting lets him keep the beard he loves very much, and his chemistry with his co-stars feels effortless. Shobana is graceful in a role that does not require her National Award-winning skills. It was refreshing to hear her dub her dialogue, though I ironically missed Bhagyalakshmi’s voice. It appears that familiarity does not breed contempt here.
ALSO READ: The Curious Case of Female Voices in Malayalam Cinema
Prakash Varma delivers a striking debut as the chief antagonist, with rage visible in his eyes and an intensity certain to get your blood boiling. Binu Pappu is equally ruthless as the bitter SI who torments Benz from the start. Farhaan Faasil is competent as the helpless Sudheesh, while the supporting cast, including Maniyanpilla Raju, Irshad, Thomas Mathew, and Amritha Varshini, fits seamlessly into the story. A special mention goes to Sangeeth Prathap for his brief but scene-stealing cameo. The Ambassador car, always present in the story, brings a sense of comfort during key moments, especially when the hero is waging a tough battle all alone.
Any hiccups? If we examine the timelines and the photo cameos, Benz’s presence in Madras and the characters’ ages do not always align. A wallet in the car’s boot is a small blooper, and the screenplay largely ignores modern technology such as CCTV, mobile phones, towers, and the role gasoline plays in running a vehicle. None of these flaws, however, stop Thudarum from being a thoroughly satisfying crowd-pleaser.
The brilliance of Moorthy’s film lies in its refusal to conform to a formula. It doesn’t indulge in Mohanlal’s iconic status or rely too much on his star power, nor does it dwell on a ‘not all cops are bad’ storyline. The message is sharp and direct, and Mohanlal, with his signature brooding persona and the famous Pulimurugan stance, commands a relatable yet larger-than-life presence in Thudarum.
Rating: ★★★★
