Kottukali: A Masterpiece That Redefines Tamil Cinema
In a lifetime of watching films, Kottukali stands out as the best Tamil film I’ve ever seen. It ranks among the greatest cinematic works, not just in Tamil or Indian cinema, but on a global scale. When I think about films that have left a similar impact on me, I recall the works of Andrei Tarkovsky (Stalker), Vittorio De Sica (Ladri di Bicyclette), Robert Bresson (Au Hasard Balthazar), and Ingmar Bergman (Persona). These films are benchmarks of cinematic brilliance, and Kottukali easily holds its own in this league.
Directed by PS Vinothraj, the visionary behind Koozhangal (Pebbles), this film has already garnered international acclaim at prestigious festivals like Berlin and Venice. With Kottukali, Vinothraj has once again proven himself as a director who pushes the boundaries of conventional cinema, elevating Tamil filmmaking to new heights.
A Director’s Unconventional Vision
From the moment the film begins, it’s clear that Kottukali isn’t a typical Tamil movie. It defies the standard storytelling formula we’ve come to expect, even from some of the finest Tamil filmmakers like Vetrimaran, Mysskin, and Balaji Sakthivel. There’s no elaborate character introduction, no structured screenplay, no sweeping musical score to dictate how we should feel.
Vinothraj breaks these conventions, trusting his audience to pick up on the characters' backstories and relationships as the film progresses. This unconventional approach challenges viewers, urging them to engage deeply with the narrative rather than passively follow along. The result is an experience that feels fresh, raw, and incredibly authentic. In the process, he elevates the ‘level’ of Tamil cinema altogether. When you watch FDFS (first day first show) reviews of the audience in youtube, one of the common terms that audience share when describing a good film is ‘vera level’ (meaning different league) and they will use that term liberally for any movie, even the very average ones such as Varisu or Thunivu.
Kottukali is truly ‘Vera level’.
Sound versus music: Silence as Exploration
One of the most striking aspects of Kottukali is its use—or rather, its lack—of background music. In most films, music guides the audience’s emotions, telling us when to feel happy, sad, or tense. But Kottukali takes a different approach. Instead of relying on a musical score, the film uses the natural sounds of the environment, creating a space for the audience to reflect on their own emotional responses.
This absence of music invites a new kind of exploration. We’re not pushed into feeling a certain way; instead, we’re left to discover what emotions the scenes evoke within us. The use of silence, punctuated by the sounds of nature, feels meditative. It strips away the familiar cinematic cues and forces us to confront the film on our own terms, free from preconceived notions.
The director approaches every aspect of this film in this fashion. It challenges the audience to overcome their primal film instincts shaped by years of templatized film structures and start a new exploration. It makes one ‘reflect’ and challenges every belief that one has about films. You become an observer inside the film instead of an audience who is seeing the film. While observing the characters, you will also start to observe the observer (you as an audience) because your primal film instincts are transcended.
A Story Unfolds: Subtle Yet Powerful
Kottukali tells the story of Meena, a young woman from a rural family near Madurai who has fallen into a deep, unexplained silence. Her family, led by her suitor Pandi, believes she’s possessed by an evil spirit. Their solution is to travel to the outskirts of their village to seek out a demon vanquisher, hoping that this ritual will restore Meena to her former self.
The narrative is simple—a journey from one place to another—but the way it unfolds is anything but. Vinothraj doesn’t spoon-feed the audience with character introductions or backstory. Instead, we learn about the characters organically, through their interactions and subtle gestures as the journey progresses. As the family navigates rural Tamil Nadu, we start to understand their relationships, their beliefs, and the societal forces shaping their lives.
Layers of Meaning: Metaphors in Everyday Life
The film is rich with metaphors, subtly woven into the narrative. Early in the film, we see a rooster tied to a stone, struggling to break free. This image mirrors Meena’s own situation—bound by societal expectations and family pressures, just as the rooster is tethered. Even when the rooster manages to free itself, it is quickly caught again by the family, who plan to offer it to the demon vanquisher. This mirrors Meena’s fate, as she too remains trapped by the family’s insistence on her "cure."
These metaphors continue throughout the film, adding depth to the seemingly simple story. A festival procession celebrating a girl’s coming of age serves as a reminder of what Pandi would have done for Meena when she attained age. It also shows the machoistic nature of relationships in the culture where Pandi is angry that he has given so much and yet, she opted for someone from a lower caste ignoring his riches and social standing. A bull blocking the road represents Meena's tough exterior, yet when approached with compassion, like the gentle bull led away by a child, Meena too reveals a more vulnerable side.
Each stop along the journey—whether for a fainted rooster, a child’s call of nature, or an insect in Pandi’s eye—offers a deeper look into the characters and their world. These moments may seem mundane, but they reveal the layers of societal norms, gender dynamics, and rural traditions that shape the characters' lives.
Immersive Cinematography: Observing Life
What makes Kottukali particularly immersive is its visual storytelling. The camera work places us alongside the characters, creating an observational style that allows us to witness their lives in real time. This technique draws us into the world of the film, making us not just spectators but active participants in the journey.
The long takes give us time to absorb the details in each scene, much like examining a painting by Picasso, where every element has a relationship with the others. Vinothraj masterfully uses these extended shots to help us process the layers of meaning within each frame. The film isn’t meant to be rushed; it demands patience and attention, rewarding the audience with a deeply reflective experience.
The first scene shows the mother and a lengthy shot of her entire village … the houses are all next to each other and their house is deep inside. The mother cries in prayer at a temple inside the village and that too early in the morning when is it little dark. She doesn’t want to share her suffering with others and the villagers will make fun of her. That one shot just summarizes everything about the culture and the society.
A Bold and Open-Ended Conclusion
Perhaps the most brilliant aspect of Kottukali is its ending. Without giving too much away, the film concludes in a way that leaves the audience questioning what will happen next. There are no easy answers, no neatly tied-up resolution. Instead, Vinothraj leaves it to us to interpret what Pandi will do after witnessing the actions of the demon vanquisher.
This open-ended conclusion forces the audience to reflect on the film long after the credits roll. It’s a bold choice, one that speaks to Vinothraj’s confidence as a filmmaker. He respects the intelligence of his audience, trusting us to draw our own conclusions.
A Film for the Ages
In the end, Kottukali isn’t just a film—it’s a work of art. It challenges our notions of storytelling, strips away the familiar structures of cinema, and invites us to engage with its world in a new and profound way. It transcends the boundaries of Tamil cinema, standing shoulder to shoulder with some of the greatest films ever made.
For anyone passionate about cinema, Kottukali is a must-watch. It’s a film that can be proudly shown to audiences around the world as a testament to the richness of Tamil culture and the brilliance of its filmmakers. I sincerely thank PS Vinothraj and his team for creating such an extraordinary piece of art and for treating the audience with respect and intelligence.
Kottukali is, without question, the best Tamil film I have ever seen. It’s a film that will stay with me—and hopefully with anyone who watches it—for a lifetime.
As Jiddu Krishnamurthi used to say, ‘The observer is observed’ which could be interpreted as what you see is a reflection of who you are. The observer is the one who witnesses. The act of witnessing usually involves a lens that is clouded by beliefs, judgements, patterns shaped by experiences and events of the past. The ‘observed’ is the film. When you watch the film, you start observing the observer … that is you…
Renowned Russian filmmaker Andrei Tarkovsky once said that “a book read by a thousand different people is a thousand different books.” Kottukali is a film that will enable a thousand souls discover thousand different reflections.