A movie about the power of cinema may seem like an obnoxiously self-indulgent idea at first, but Karthik Subbaraj's Jigarthanda series makes an art of it. In the first film Jigarthanda, a gangster, Sethu, bullies his way into a hero's role, but as a result, he undergoes a complete transformation and gives up goondagiri. Cinema heals him. Jigarthanda Double X takes the focus on cinema to the next level. The mantra "cinema is a weapon" resounds throughout the film. Its message is that cinema has the power not only to shape individuals - as it did for Sethu - but also to influence the masses. If cinema is a weapon, it is a weapon of mass instruction.
As in the first film, Jigarthanda Double X uses a gangster's life story to convey its message. Alias Caesar (Raghava Lawrence) is an ivory smuggler, a murderer and a devoted fan of Clint Eastwood, who he claims to have saved from a charging bull on set. In a nod to his hero, Caesar wears bell bottoms, cowboy hats and ponchos; rides horses; and prefers shootouts to other ways of murder. He gets it into his head that he wants to be India's first dark-skinned movie star. It is the '70s, and the notion of a dusky pan-India ("pandya") hero is laughable. But he nevertheless puts out a call for directors willing to cast him, and a long line of men show up at his doorstep narrating one bad story after another. He picks Krupa, an ex-cop masquerading as a protege of Satyajit Ray by giving himself the most artsy Bengali name he can think of - Ray Das. In reality, Krupa has been sent to execute Caesar. In the course of shooting their film, however, the magic of cinema takes hold of these two men, and they go down unexpected roads.
By every measure, Double X is a bigger, bolder, more forceful ode to cinema than the first film. Yet, it is also bursting at the seams with socio-political commentary. The "I scratch your back, you scratch mine" relationship between politics and the movie industry is a recurrent theme. Caesar's boss is a politician vying for the Chief Minister's post. His opponent is a famous movie star Jeyakodi (Tom Chacko). They take their battle to the theatres where Caesar's boss sends Caesar to bully and threaten theatre owners against playing Jeyakodi's films, tanking his brand image. Cinema is, after all, a weapon.
Double X's tribute to cinema crescendos in the final hour of the movie. By then, a tonal shift is fully underway. We are in the jungles where elephants are being poached for precious ivory, and where Adivasis are being terrorized by a brutal police officer (Naveen Chandra). Caesar and Ray arrive at the forest with a small 8 mm film camera hoping for some cool footage, but it takes them on a journey of self-discovery.
In several instances, Jigarthanda Double X feels overstuffed with characters and ideas as it gets increasingly ambitious with every second that passes. Police brutality, government corruption, elephant poaching, land encroachment - the list of issues it wants to spotlight are seemingly interminable. And along the way, the integrity of its characters gets shortchanged in favour of setting up for spectacular moments. For instance, out of nowhere, a character gets married only to have his new wife get killed in a dramatic fashion for extra sympathy points.
Raghava Lawrence carries the film's swag, style and emotional depth. Meanwhile, S J Suryah injects his signature eccentricity into Ray Das, but his character gets caught up in trying to prop up that of Lawrence. Ray is first sent to kill Caesar but he just lingers around, supposedly for the right opportunity to do the act, and ultimately gets a very unconvincing character arc.
Notably outstanding though is the performer portraying the mud-smeared elephant poacher Shettani. His physical prowess, and his agile, acrobatic movements lend an entrancing quality to the elephant fight scenes.
Double X owes much of its potency to its superior technicals. From the breathtaking forest sets to the remarkably realistic portrayal of elephants, the visuals are strikingly good. Santosh Narayan's soundtrack accentuates the "Pandya Western" theme envisioned by Subbaraj. His rhythmic tribalistic songs, coupled with a super fun choreography that Raghava Lawrence effortlessly does, are some of the most joyous moments of the film.
If the first film Jigarthanda was a sweet love letter to cinema, Jigarthanda Double X is more like a bugle blast. In the former, cinema played a subtle, sneaky role; here, it takes the spotlight as the main character, front and centre. But Subbaraj's message that cinema is a force for good, and that the camera is the ultimate truth-teller, is the rosiest interpretation of his craft there is. Because in our post-truth, AI-deep-fake world of today, his convictions seem less grounded in reality. The thrust of commercial interests in the movie industry is, sadly, more apparent than ever.