10 Tamil Films That Ruled Kollywood in 2021
2017 wasn’t just another year in Tamil cinema, it seemed like a shift. It was a year in which the idea of what, precisely, constitutes a “blockbuster” received a rewrite, and small but ambitious concept-driven movies commanded (and received) our full attention. "We had players who were already superstars bringing their game to the next level, first time directors stepping onto the field as if they've been in this for a lifetime and directing full-bodied from Day 1.
It was the kind of year you left the theater arguing with friends, not about whether (if it was) good, but how much so or why. From noir-ish films that rewrote the rules to devastating social issue dramas and page-turner thrillers, 2017 had it all. Let’s go back and screen 10 movies that are still with us in the reels of cinematic memory.
Vikram Vedha
If 2017 had a calling card, it would be the centuries-scorching background score of Sam CS. Vikram Vedha was not a film; it was an event. Pushkar and Gayathri didn’t write so much as a story as an elaborate puzzle box, putting a “good” cop (Madhavan at his roughest, rawest) up against a “bad” gangster (Vijay Sethupathi – he did not play Vedha, he was Vedha). The movie challenges us from its first frame: What is good, what is evil and who gets to decide?
The "Oru kadha sollatu, sir?" hook has since become legendary, transforming a snappy questioning format into an intense philosophical discussion. All that, and each scene’s a fan favorite — the magic is in the electric chemistry between the two leads. It’s not just about gunfire Their battles are based on sharp dialogue and simmering tension. Vedha’s swag, Vikram’s moral slide and that earth-shattering BGM — everything falls into place. It’s an exquisitely spooled movie, so well written that you find something new in it every time you watch.
Aruvi
Aruvi hit like a thunderbolt. Nobody saw it coming, and when it landed, it floored anyone witness to its impact. At one level, it is a young woman, Aruvi taking a TV studio hostage. But the film just keeps stripping away the layers — through a high-stakes thriller, into a biting social satire and finally to a heartbreaking human drama. I’m a huge fan of Parvatii Nair, seeing her in an attitude role like this is indeed very special to me,” she says.. “Aditi is mad and crazily talented, I had caught Aruvi on TV, saying ‘Whoever this girl is!’ … And now to be acting opposite her (smiles) that was another pinch-me moment for me.” It’s Aditi Balan who has delivered what can only be described as a revolution of sorts; she’s fierce but vulnerable, witty yet broken all at the same time!
The entire “Solvathellam Sathiyam” segment is brilliant, a spot-on and side-splitting satire of reality TV that takes a very sharp and suddenly very painful turn. The scene in which she coolly names her terms remains a topic of fan conversation, and the audacity of her character was undeniable. Bindu Malini and Vedanth Bharadwaj’s music is just right with being understated, rising only when the emotional dam does. You can’t watch Aruvi without being moved and forever changed by what you see.
Maanagaram
Both Kaithi and the LCU, for that matter, are what came after Maanagaram. The film that made us sit up and take notice of Lokesh Kanagaraj, and it was one scorching introduction. He took the “hyperlink” genre — in which multiple, seemingly disconnected story lines intersect — and buffed it to a mirror shine. The city of Chennai is the true protagonist, a formless colossus that links to one another a jobless everyman (Sri), volatile cabbie (Sundeep Kishan) and fearful HR manager (Regina).
The real strength of Maanagaram is its energy. The tension is high in the scenes with the kidnappers (a masterly career-changing appearance for Munishkanth). Lokesh flaunts his control of pacing even here; the film is a lean, mean, 137-minute ride that contains not one wasted frame. The score, by Javed Riaz, contributes to the claustrophobia of the city night. It’s a movie that demonstrated you don’t need an enormous budget or a major star to make a blockbuster, only a great script and near-perfect execution.
Theeran Adhigaaram Ondru
We’d watched hundreds of cop movies, but we had never seen one like Theeran. H. Vinoth gave us a movie that appeared to be less of a movie and more like the high-end stakes of a documentary. Loosely based on the actual case of Operation Bawaria, the movie traces Theeran (played by Karthi), a no-nonsense cop that spends an entire decade tracking down a violent band of dacoits. Karthi delivers career-best performance, excellently bringing through the physical and mental toll that the case takes on him. This is not a “Singam” cop; this is a man swamped by paperwork, bureaucracy and brutal blind alleys.
The realism of the fright flick has been praised, quoted by H2N. The fan-favorite scene? Just unequivocally the long action scene when North Indian police detains the village. It’s messy, clunky and terrifyingly real — no graceful choreography here, only thrashing survival. An epic score by the composer Ghibran accompanied by evocative cinematography of the dusty, unforgiving terrain. Theeran is a procedural done right, and it respects both the cops who did the work and the audience watching it.
Mersal
This was 2017’s mass event. Atlee and Vijay came together for a film that was half-social commentary, half-commercial masala but all about the entertainment. Vijay does a triple act, and the flashback section of Vetrimaaran (the “Thalapathy” is his screen name), a village wrestler, and wife Aishwarya (a wonderful Nithya Menen) anchors the film. The film’s heart, a scathing indictment of corruption in the medical field, really resonated with people.
It’s a feast for the eye, G. K. Vishnu’s cinematography ensuring that each frame looks majestic. And the music! A. R. Rahman made an all-time banger of a record. “Aalaporaan Thamizhan” turned into an anthem, and the “Mersal Arasan” song was a masterclass in visual storytelling. Yet the “scene” most adored by fans was S. J. Suryah’s devilishly villainous turn as Daniel. His face-offs with Vijay are pure filmic gold.
Aramm
In a year of large heroes, Aramm provided us with our “Lady Superstar.” This is a testament to NN’s stardom and more importantly to her commitment for content. She is Madhivadhani, a District Collector stuck in an implausible, nail-biting situation: a toddler has fallen into an abandoned borewell. Tight, suffocating and as sharp and angry an indictment of a failed system as you’ll see on-screen.
There are no songs, no romance, and no brawls “for the masses.” The “heroism” here comes from her choices, her steely determination and the quiet empathy she communicates. Ghibran’s backscore is kept on a leash, only to be released at times of utmost tension – like in the rescue. The fan-favorite moments here are the subtle ones: her barking commands, the gut-wrenching exchanges with villagers and the film’s brutal, powerful climax. Aramm is more than just an entertainer; it reflects the society we live in.
Taramani
Fair warning Director Ram’s Taramani isn’t an easy watch – nor is it intended as one. It’s a spiky, challenging and deeply complicated look at contemporary romance, male ego and the judgments that society hurls at an independent, free-spirited woman. Andrea Jeremiah turns in a courageous, uninhibited performance as Althea, a single mother in the IT sector who makes no excuses for herself. In his first film, Vasanth Ravi does a great job of the confusion and toxicity of who he plays.
The film is presented in the form of a “debate,” with Ram’s voice-over questioning the audience throughout. The dialogue is biting and frequently too real. Yuvan Shankar Raja’s music forms the soul of the movie, with songs functioning as poetic interludes that express Taramani’s mood. It’s a movie that provoked endless arguments, and no matter if you fell on the love or hate side, it was impossible to ignore.
Aval
In a marketplace overloaded with so-called horror-comedy crossovers, Aval was a gift from the heavens for real horror buffs. It was a straight up, pure haunted house movie that should scare you. The actors Siddharth (who also co-wrote the script) and Andrea Jeremiah portray a happily married couple who quickly learn that their new neighbors, and their house, are infested by a malevolent presence.
The director Milind Rau is good at creating an environment. The film pulls every trick in the book — creepy sound design, shocking visuals, even a truly disquieting backstory — to scare the bejeezus out of you. The audience audibly screamed in theaters during the exorcism scene and the infamous “head-turning” moment. It is a technically fantastic film that established the fact that Tamil cinema could make world-class horror films and not just one filled with slapstick comedies.
Pa Paandi
Having spent decades as one of the most potent performers going, Dhanush stepped behind the camera for his first feature as a director — and made this pure bear hug of a movie. Pa Paandi is a cozy, feel-good drama about “Power” Paandi (the superb Rajkiran), a retired stunt master who feels unmoored and unseen by his family. He packs a bag and goes on the road in search of his first love, Poonthendral (an equally wonderful Revathi).
The film treats the topic of aging and second chances with such grace and humor. The flashback, with Dhanush playing the young Paandi, is sweet, but it is Rajkiran and Revathi whom the film loves. Their scene of reunion is one of the best-written and enacted scenes of this year. Sean Roldan’s music, particularly “Vaanam,” is simply sublime. It’s a sweet, lovely story told with empathy.
Kurangu Bommai
It was the surprise hit of the year, a non-chronological crime puzzle in a film. Directed by Nithilan Swaminathan, this story is on a missing bag (with a monkey toy in it) that connects a simpleton father (Bharathiraja) and his loving son Vidharth. The story unravels in layers, piece by piece detailing a grim plot of smuggling, treachery and covetousness.
Bharathiraja is outstandingly vulnerable and P. L. Thenappan is petrifying as the film’s antihero. Its “hyperlink” structure is tautly constructed; in the end, everything matters, every character and every detail. The climax walls off a brutal, shocking, unforgettable payoff. Kurangu Bommai stands out as a prime example why one should not judge a book by its cover (qualifier: there are exceptions to this rule), and that size does not matter, especially when small films with colossal impact, let alone hoodwink their innocent viewers.