Coolie feels like 1992 Mammootty film rip-off; Lokesh Kanagaraj missed Rajinism 101, Rajinikanth shines best with OG fan-directors

Indian Express

18 hours ago

About 10 minutes in, I started to feel like I had signed up for a trip I couldn't wait to end. As soon as Palanisamy (Kaali Venkat), an undercover police officer disguised as a labourer at Kingpin Logistics in the Visakhapatnam port, started sharing his findings about the company's owner, mafia boss Simon Xavier (Nagarjuna), and his henchman Dayalan (Soubin Shahir), it felt like a forewarning that what was about to unfold might be a series of templated scenes presented in a very basic manner just like this opening one. However, since Coolie was not touted as 'just another typical Rajinikanth film' and was directed by Lokesh Kanagaraj — who previously gave us Kaithi, Vikram and Leo — I thought this might not be the case. It's possible that Lokesh deliberately started with something casually mediocre to lower audience expectations, which would make the subsequent moments of elevation truly blast off.
Unfortunately, it did not take me long to realise that I had been in denial and delusional, trying to find meanings and reasons that simply didn't exist. It did not take me long also to realise that Coolie was a Rajinikanth movie made by a filmmaker with almost no understanding of the essence of Rajinism, which comprises the actor's strengths and many weaknesses too.
Yes, the visuals here were quite impressive as an overhead shot showed yellow hard hats dotting the heads of workers standing loosely clustered together, hinting they have no identities and are simply part of this syndicate. But there was something unbelievably dull about it. Both the staging and the actions felt like I was watching a mediocre Tamil film and not 'one of the most anticipated movies of 2025'.
While Coolie may not rank among this year's worst Indian films, it's worthy of the title of 'the most disappointing movie of 2025', with only a few aspects of the film coming across as at least good. From the start, Coolie gives the impression that Lokesh either had no clue what he was writing or, worse, makes us wonder whether it was he who truly penned his earlier films. The sheer volume of directionlessness and plot holes per square foot in Coolie is such that it eventually leaves one wondering what deserves more hate: the writing or Lokesh's uninspired execution.
After an initial series of underwhelming moments, one would hope for 'Thalaivar' to make an appearance and take charge. However, Lokesh delivers what can only be described as the most colourless Rajinikanth intros of all time. Even the supposedly 'sleek' shots of him 'stylishly' using butcher knives come across as artificial, with Girish Gangadharan's cinematography, which did wonders in Vikram, Jallikkattu, and Angamaly Diaries, looking cartoonish here.
Anyone who grew up watching Rajinikanth's films knows one fundamental truth: he possesses a pace and rhythm that are unmatched. Although filmmakers like to showcase him in slow motion due to the sharpness of his movements, his inherent swiftness is an even bigger part of his trademark. This not only adds to his swagger but also helps to mask his limitations as an actor when it comes to exploring complex, layered emotions deeply. While he is not just about cigarette flicks and sunglass twirls, there exists a fine line between portraying Rajinism as natural and artificial. And it's best presented by filmmakers who are OG fans of Rajinikanth.
Consider the mass Rajinikanth films directed by SP Muthuraman, KS Ravikumar, Suresh Krissna, S Shankar, Pa Ranjith and Karthik Subbaraj. One thing visible in all these films — such as Priya, Pokkiri Raja, Mr Bharath, Velaikkaran, Muthu, Padayappa, Annamalai, Baashha, Sivaji: The Boss, Kabali, Kaala and Petta — is the palpable enjoyment the directors seem to have had when presenting 'Thalaivar' on screen. They all appear thrilled to capture him through the lens.
In Coolie, however, we don't get to see this Rajinikanth. Nor do we see the actor being guided into breaking free from his 'stock expressions', which he hilariously shared during the Ponniyin Selvan: 1 audio launch, as seen in Mani Ratnam's Thalapathi (1991). Instead, we are introduced to a version of the superstar who appears like a lost child, unsure of what to do after being 'kidnapped' by Lokesh. The ironic thing is that the 'kidnapper' Lokesh also seems just as clueless about what to do with Rajinikanth.
The fear that his fans would be disappointed if he attempted to make a stylish star vehicle like Nelson Dilipkumar's Jailer, with the elevation moments and 'Thalaivar's swagger dictating the story's progression, is evident throughout Coolie. To avoid that, despite the absence of a cohesive script, Lokesh has attempted to unnecessarily understate the moments and Rajinikanth's performance as if to pander to the 'intellectual audience', who blindly find non-existent meanings in the works of their favourite filmmakers. However, the thinness and the holes in the script are too glaring to overlook.
The two title cards for Rajinikanth — one in the OG style and one crafted in a semi-Lokesh style, reminiscent of the iconic Marvel-inspired card 'Thalapathy' Vijay received in Leo, to commemorate Rajinikanth's 50th year in cinema — themselves were a joy kill. It was then that I felt a level of admiration for director Shankar, considering the seamless way in which he pulled this off in Sivaji. The lack of blending visible here persists throughout the movie and across all aspects, ultimately resulting in a disjointed and half-baked experience.
Although Coolie pretends, at least on its surface, to revolve around the strong bonds between various characters like Devaraj (Rajinikanth) and his friend Rajasekar (Sathyaraj), Preethi (Shruti Haasan) and her 'father' Rajasekar, Simon and his son Arjun (Kanna Ravi), and Dayalan and his crime partner Kalyani (Rachita Ram), the writing fails throughout to establish any of these dynamics properly. Instead, we are left to hear various characters engaged in spats with soap opera-ish dialogues like the senseless 'Ava ungalkuu appava irukkalam, aana avan enakku nanban (He may be your father, but he is my Friend)' and its cringey reply, 'Avaru ungalkku verum friend thaan, engalukku appa (He's just a friend to you, but for us, he's our Father).'
Lokesh Kanagaraj's inability to flesh out the story and characters also results in iconic lines like 'Thodra paakkalam (I dare you to touch her)' and 'Verum panam (It's just money)' from Thalapathi going unimpactful. Without a glimpse of the so-called unbreakable bond between Devaraj and Rajasekar — or any insights into the former's past or present — how are we expected to empathise with Deva or grasp the emotion behind his mission to 'avenge Rajasekar's death' and 'protect Preethi and her sisters'? Had Deva been a 'ghost' like Vikram, this tactic might have made sense. But here he lives openly in his lodge, Deva Mansion, surrounded by many with whom he shares warm bonds. So, what's the point of keeping these aspects of his life mysterious? I doubt even Lokesh knows the answers.
Also, why does Preethi hate Deva so much? Why did Rajasekar instill that kind of emotion in her, despite knowing Deva's actions three decades ago were righteous? Why is Simon's firm named Kingpin Logistics; does he want the world to know he's running a 'secret', shady business behind it? How did Dayalan know Monica beforehand? How did he manage to kill the loco pilot and take over the train? More importantly, how did he finally stop it? Is driving a train really that easy? How stupid was Preethi to make Deva's men stop their car to buy her food while they were fleeing Dayalan? Couldn't she have just gotten a takeaway? Also, does this world exist in a parallel universe without cops or any law enforcement whatsoever? By the way, Power House-aa?! Loki dey!
So, what is Chandler Bing's job? Oops, my bad; what is Rajasekar's job? And how did he, an 'inventor', become BFFs with Deva, who worked at a port? What made Kaleesha (Upendra) confine himself to that room, rarely coming out? How did Simon forget Deva's face, despite witnessing him murder his father, while Dahaa (Aamir Khan) — who saw the same act at the same age — remembered it, as this made him Deva's fan? Even if one tries to justify this by pointing to Simon's 'substance abuse', Coolie fails to establish this aspect properly. Sure, a filmmaker needn't spoon-feed everything, but at the very least, the dots should be revealed so that the audience can connect them.
Not just in its writing and presentation, but Coolie disappoints in its technical aspects too. The colour palette in most scenes was so pretentious that I couldn't tell if I was watching a Lokesh film or a Sun TV serial. While the use of 'Thamarai Poovukum' in Leo felt in tune with the aesthetics, the filmmaker's attempt to replicate that in Coolie backfires. From the odd placement of the track 'Monica' and the mediocre background scores to the underuse of 'Powerhouse' and the lack of fluidity in editing, Coolie never truly impresses. Yes, the overuse of 'Hukum – Thalaivar Alappara' in Jailer was a letdown, but that doesn't mean composer Anirudh Ravichander should have almost entirely avoided using the title track here.
Towards the end, Lokesh even attempts to take Coolie into 'appa paasam' territory, with both Deva and Simon leaning into this. But thanks to the absolute lack of characterisation, the already-weak antagonist Simon's arc comes across as unimpressive, while Deva's feels like a poorly made, soulless rip-off of Joshiy's Mammootty-starrer Kauravar (1992). Incidentally, these moments only serve to remind us of Pa Ranjith's mastery as a filmmaker. As Coolie draws to a close, Lokesh reveals Deva's wife through a photo where Rajinikanth is seen posing with Shobana — yet another hat-tip to Thalapathi — and also discloses the identity of Deva's long-lost daughter. But as these scenes fall completely flat, one cannot help but recall how movingly Ranjith choreographed similar moments in Kabali and Kaala — not just two masterful movies, but also the finest Rajinikanth films since Baashha, in my opinion — which not only made the best use of him as both actor and superstar but also did not compromise on overall cinematic excellence.
Among all the disappointments in Coolie, Aamir Khan's cameo stands tallest. Not only does the absence of substance detract from the moment, but the contrived exchanges between Rajinikanth and Aamir make it even worse. What I wouldn't have given to see Rajinikanth, Aamir Khan, and Upendra in a single frame, lighting beedis from the same flame and savouring them, in a film that truly deserved them! Sigh.
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For the sheer swagger Nagarjuna Akkineni brought, the stellar screen presence Upendra ensured, and the strong performances delivered by Soubin Shahir and Rachita Ram, they all also deserved a much better film. Had Lokesh managed to channel even 10 per cent of the impact seen in the intercuts between flashback shots of a de-aged Rajinikanth and the present-day visuals of him, stylishly smoking a beedi, into the rest of the film, Coolie might have been at least 'not disappointing'.
I feel sorry for the fans who, before the release, speculated that Coolie would be a sci-fi film with time-travel elements. Don't worry, guys, we'll file a petition to borrow Rajasekar's electric chair and incinerate the film completely so that no 'intellectual' comes back 10 days or 10 years later to 'convince' us that Coolie was 'a misunderstood masterpiece, much like Mani Ratnam's Kamal Haasan-starrer Thug Life.'