Baththa

What if you eventually become what you feared most? The bullied becomes the bully. The abused becomes the abuser. The hunted becomes the hunter. In Balaji Tharaneetharan’s Tamil drama Baththa, a feared gangster (Vijay Sethupathi in the titular role) is locked inside a school restroom and shouts from inside, “I’ll kill you when I come out.” Terrified by his words, the one who accidentally locked him in, third-grader Sabari (Master Sai Prithviraj), refuses to open the door. He flees the scene, leaving the village to look for him while the school remains shut for summer vacation. Sabari is far from a delinquent. There’s a beach scene early on with his factory-worker father (Hari Krishnan) and his homemaker mother (Santhy Balachandran). He wants a toy that costs three rupees. In 1986, that isn’t nothing for them, but they buy it for him anyway. When the teacher takes it away during exams, the boy sneaks back into the empty school. He finds the pile of confiscated things and takes only his own. The moment is small and exact.

A dreaded don sees life in a certain way — he wants everyone to be afraid of him and think twice before approaching him. He almost achieves it, too. But when he strips himself of his carefully built persona, who is he? Is he someone he can be proud of? And what happens when a child unintentionally gives him a reality check? Director Balaji Tharaneetharan’s Baththa takes this concept and turns it into a wholesome drama that is equally fun and emotional.

Baththa, played by Vijay Sethupathi, is a frightening gangster. He is driven by ego, and no threat scares him. At home, he casually slaps his wife, throws a plate full of food, yells at his daughter. And he seems to be getting away with everything. So, you really wonder who’s gonna put him in his place. Balaji Tharaneetharan’s film hints that an assassination attempt is on the cards. But as it turns out, Baththa’s most dangerous adversary is not a gangster, not some man who defeats him in size and strength. Instead, it’s the opposite. His reckoning comes in the form of a little, meek boy. Baththa is full of such gorgeous ideas. The tender beauty of a child’s innocence serving as a mirror to such a gangster feels almost like a ‘pure cinema’ idea. For an entire half, Baththa is stuck in a school toilet, isolated and unable to get out. The premise seems almost like it might potentially get a bit too indulgent, a bit too static, maybe test your patience a bit. But Balaji’s Baththa is magnificently kinetic.