It was as though trouble was caught in a nightmarish sleep and was jolted to wakefulness right in the opening scene of Thoongavanam. A song from the early 60s, a classic Kannadasan-MSV combo Sirippu varuthu plays intermittently with M.S. Subbalakshmi’s Suprabhatham, seconds before the high-voltage collision, shootout and what ensue thereafter, in the opening frame. Why a relatively cynical song at that time, is left to director Rajesh M. Selva’s discretion, but it felt as though the song kept on running on his mind even when combustible action threatened to blow the place down.
Rightfully an adaptation of the 2011 French film Nuit Blanche (Sleepless Night), Thoongavanam is a derivative film from start to end, barring a few innuendoes. C.K. Diwakar or CKD (Kamal Haasan) is an IRS officer in the Narcotics Control Bureau who seems to be involved in drug trafficking, along with Mani (Yugi Sethu). Without much ado, we see the first sparks of trouble when his son is abducted by Vital Rao (Prakash Raj), owner of a pub—a microcosm of the illegal drug trade industry. Mohan (Kishore) and Mallika (Trisha) are officers partaking in the investigating of the shoot-out and drug peddling misfire in the first scene.
The main protagonist with a questionable morality, an ally who looks like he might spill the beans anytime, menacing drug peddlers and resolute officers on their trail—the plot is intriguing and the knots tighten after every frame.
The execution of the plot is commendable; the scenes are recreated vividly, with very less frill. Now, getting back to the combustible fumes being watered down; while it is terrific to see that Prakash Raj and Sampath Raj are the chosen ones in the villainy department, their menace is often interrupted by lame potty jokes from their assistants. When fieriness blows hot and cold, it douses a certain force and urgency that are inevitable factors of a thriller.
Another setback is the pace —an on-your-toe situation would suddenly stretch for a couple of more minutes fizzling out the tension that it started out with. Pain largely seems to evade the canvas and characters, for it fails to effectively emerge from the gaps and crevices of the mayhem.
The larger picture, although, brings out great effects; the conspicuous disorder illuminates the frames, violence is upped with Trisha trying out some great combat moves on Kamal Haasan (although she could have hidden the impish smile while trying to knock him down). A BGM that felt alive for most part of the film, courtesy Ghibran and Sanu Varghese’s cinematography that did a great job with interspersing pallid colours and brighter elements, working up quite an ambience.
And what was missing? Perhaps, that rush of blood to your head that forces you to screech open your unsuspecting senses.
Rating 3/5