One of the great joys of a star vehicle is watching a larger-than-life actor do seemingly ordinary things. In Jailer, retired cop Muthuvel Pandian had Rajinikanth buying groceries with his grandson, helping him shoot YouTube videos and even letting an oddball neighbour crack a joke at his expense. Even in a paisa-vasool dance number, he is content to be a background dancer, unperturbed by the prospect of embarrassing himself.
The 2023 release, heavily inspired by Breaking Bad, gave Rajini’s swagger a much-needed makeover, ushering in a brand of understated heroism. The violence was brutal, stylised and snappy. The star called the shots without being self-indulgent. A single phone call was enough for his allies to execute his orders and sing paeans to his glorious past.
The duality of a man who could switch between a ruthless assassin and a humble family man, with a dose of dark, deadpan humour thrown in, added to Muthu’s charisma.
There is something intriguing about leaving a few things unsaid in a film. It suggests that a storyteller is confident enough to let viewers process them for themselves. Everything about Jailer was self-explanatory. Barring the rather obvious unfinished business, the film felt complete in itself, offering closure to both the external and internal conflicts in Muthu’s life.
Yet Jailer 2 milks this world further, serving as a logical extension of the original. The family drama is dialled down, while the villains are deadlier and more opulent. The film retains the same grammar, with a grounded first hour giving way to an action-packed second half. Muthuvel Pandian works at a small-time grocery store, but beneath this deceptively simple existence lies a sinister plan.
Muthu and his family are still haunted by the tragedy that upended their lives, even as they attempt to settle into a mundane existence. He takes orders from a store owner who spends a considerable chunk of her profits tasting her own products. When trouble brews in paradise, he becomes a driver for a delusional local goon and serves tea to his gang.
Nelson Dilipkumar is very much in his element in a lively, if predictable, first hour. There are scores of colourful characters punching above their weight, while Muthu keeps his emotions in check, stays observant and deliberately plays the underdog. This lends a comic spin to Rajini’s own Baasha: a dangerous man living in exile, playing down his abilities, with occasional throwbacks to his violent past.
While Jailer had its protagonist pulling out all the stops to protect his kidnapped son, here he steps in to help a long-time friend. There are several tiers of baddies waiting to be humbled, one after another. The Kalpak family features a wheelchair-bound octogenarian patriarch, a ruthless elder son, a pampered sibling with a weakness for women, and a cigar-smoking daughter.
The film tries to compensate for its half-baked characters with heavyweight casting and a stylised aesthetic. Several lazily choreographed action sequences suggest that Nelson takes Rajini’s screen presence for granted, struggling to build a worthwhile conflict between Muthu and the Kalpaks. Muthu is always a step ahead, wielding sniper rifles, delivering sharper punchlines, striding through slow-motion shots, blowing up buildings and calling on friends from neighbouring states for help.
As the rivalry runs out of steam, the film turns its attention to Muthu’s fractured family dynamics, but there is little room for any worthwhile drama to emerge. When the film falls short of characters to hype up Muthu’s persona, one of the antagonists steps in to speak at length about his sacrifices for his family. The flashy action sequence towards the end unfolds as expected, but what comes as a relative relief is that Muthu finally has to pay some price for his actions.
As the men claim to fight for women in trouble, it is refreshing to see an unapologetically ambitious woman, Kantha Kalpak, played by Vidya Balan, emerge from the villains’ camp. She brings a welcome change of energy to a film dominated by men competing to outdo one another. Predictably, the groundwork is also laid for Jailer 3. (Why can’t Muthu have a graceful, peaceful retirement, please?)
After all these years, Rajinikanth hardly has to do much to command a viewer’s attention. What makes him endearing, though, is the vulnerability beneath all the machismo. He is terrific with the deadpan humour of a humbled retiree doing odd jobs. There is a mischievous glint in his eyes as he flirts with Kantha. Ramya Krishnan and Mirnaa, meanwhile, are saddled with characters that are not meaty enough.
Vidya Balan is the pick of the lot among the baddies. SJ Suryah struggles to bring anything new to a stereotypical part, while Mithun Chakraborty is wasted. Suraj Venjaramoodu attempts to fill the void left by Vinayakan in the first half but is not given the fleshed-out character he deserves. A pleasant surprise is Namo Narayana as the local goon, who has a blast blowing his own trumpet. Bagavathi Perumal’s role, however, is cut short after a point.
Anirudh Ravichander’s music leans heavily on the signature themes from the first film, while the new songs hardly leave an impact. The cameos, featuring the likes of Hrithik Roshan, Shiva Rajkumar and Mohanlal, do not quite make the cut either. Their presence adds to the film’s scale but does little to deepen its world.
Jailer 2 struggles to carve out a life of its own, failing to build anything substantial on the foundation of the first film. It goes big on scale but comes up short on imagination.
