Best Tamil Films of 2021Complete List of Hits & Hidden Gems
If you were to ask anyone about 2021, the reaction is likely to be a grimace. It was the year of the second wave, of staying indoors and of unrelenting uncertainty. But for Tamil cinema, this was another story. There was nothing but 100 percent uninhibited creative anger. As theatres were gasping for air, streaming platforms emerged as the new battlefield and our filmmakers and actors unleashed their big guns. It seemed like every month, a film landed that was not only a “time-pass” watch but an all-encompassing cultural event.
We had fiery political parables that shone a light on society and made everyone uncomfortable, high-concept time-loop movies that broke our collective brains and period epics built with breathtaking heart-and-brain power. 2021 was the year Tamil cinema proved it didn’t need a 100-crore box office weekend to have a 100-crore impact. It was a year that took guts and glory and some of the finest movies we’ve seen in a long damn decade. Here, then, is my list of 10 movies that stood out in a year dominated by quality films.
Sarpatta Parambarai
Pa. Ranjith didn’t just create a film; he brought an entire world back to life. Narrow Focus Sarpatta Parambarai is a sprawling, detailed, and passionately written love letter to the boxing clans of 1970s North Madras. The protagonist of this movie is Kabilan (Arya, who’s done a physical and emotional transformation in this role), a dock worker with dreams not just about fighting for a trophy but the forgotten pride of his clan, Sarpatta. I mean, this is not just a sports movie. It’s a rich, novelistic epic that brings in the politics of the Emergency, caste pride and personal wars for every single one of its characters.
The craft on display here is just unimaginable. The ’70s vibe is just right, Santhosh Narayanan’s score is a killer and the fight choreography is tough and grounded. But what fans really cling to are the characters. Whenever Pasupathy’s Rangan Vaathiyar imparted sage advice stoically, we all shut up and listened. And then there was the year’s breakout star. “Dancing Rose” (Sabeer Kallarakkal), who had a taunting boxing style so iconic that it immediately won all the fans and inspired a thousand memes. That first fight he and Kabilan have is a master class in character-driven action.
Karnan
Where Sarpatta was a knockout, Karnan was a gut punch. This is Mari Selvaraj and Dhanush at their most raw and ferocious. It’s a raw, allegorical and visually stunning film about a village, Podiyankulam, that battles for its most elemental right: a bus stop. Dhanush is the man himself, Karnan, the agitated guardian of the village, a man who will not contentedly sit back and watch systemic oppression do its work. The film employs powerful metaphors — the chained donkey, the faceless village goddess, unending darkness — to establish an atmosphere of oppressive injustice.
This movie is chock full of indelible images and sounds. The cinematography by Theni Eswar presents the rural setting in both beautiful and menacing terms. And Santhosh Narayanan’s score isn’t merely music; it’s a character. “Kandaa Vara Sollunga” is less a song and more of a primal scream, an announcement for a saviour that transcends time. The fan-loved scene? That would have to be the pre-interval blast. After around 10,004 stings of humiliation later, Karnan snaps, picks up a sword and goes about burning alive the police station. It’s cathartic, terrifying and brilliant cinema.
Maanaadu
We’ve been hearing for years the same time-loop film was “too complicated” for a mass (Tamil) audience. Venkat Prabhu and Silambarasan, heard the laughter and delivered one of the smartest blockbuster entertainers of the year. Maanaadu is a blast. Simbu as Abdul Khaaliq is an NRI who comes to attend a friend’s wedding, and he gets locked up in a finite loop compelled to live the same day in which there is attempt at political assassination. The film is a triumph of screenplay writing, using the loop not just as an over-designed gimmick but as the ideal device for a fast-paced, exhilarating cat-and-mouse game.
This movie gave us two gifts. First there was that insane revival of a focused, sharp and charismatic STR. But the second, and perhaps larger, gift was SJ Suryah. He steals every scene he’s in as the antagonist cop Dhanushkodi. This frustration of having to loop (“Vandhaan, suttaan, sethaan, repeat-u!”) is one of the most hilarious performances in recent memory. The film is pure and unadulterated fun, aided by Yuvan Shankar Raja’s thumping, high-energy BGM. It's the kind of movie that expects you to be smart and that thanks you for it with a great time.
Jai Bhim
Some films entertain. Jai Bhim changes you. This isn’t a movie you “like,” it’s a movie you endure, learning from and ultimately being shaken by. Inspired by a true story that is both woeful and righteous, the film traces the journey of the attorney Chandru (Suriya, in a portrayal that’s all quiet, steely determination), who steps up to plead on behalf of Senggeni (a remarkable Lijomol Jose), an Irular tribe woman whose husband, Rajakannu (Manikandan), has been “disappeared” from police custody. It’s a no-holds-barred, grim and essential examination of custodial torture and the systematic repression of tribal people.
T. J. Gnanavel directs as if there’s a story to be told, not exploitation to be had. The first half is one of the most challenging watches in tamil cinema but important it is vital for us to understand the stakes here. Where the craft in is, and in its performances. Lijomol Jose’s performance as Senggeni, defiant in both her suffering and resilience, is the steadfast center around which an entire world revolves. Jai Bhim achieved more than good reviews; it ignited a national conversation, shone a light on forgotten communities and showed that the big screen can still be an urgent, potent force for justice.
Mandela
How do you make a brilliant political satire about something as serious as caste politics and electoral corruption? You make Mandela. This is a small-budget gem of a debut from Madonne Ashwin, with a massive idea behind it. It’s set in a village split into two warring caste factions, both vying to win the local election. When they realize the election will be decided by a single, deciding vote, they turn their attention to the one man who has no caste and no power: the village barber, played by Yogi Babu.
Yogi Babu, playing his first major role as a solo protagonist, is the revelation. He ditches his comedian persona and turns in a soulful, dignified performance as a man who, until his vote turns him into the most important person in town, was invisible to everyone. The film is sharp and witty, deeply clever in using humor to expose the absurdity of the caste divide. This is fan-pleasing craft in terms of writing; it's a film that makes its point without once preaching, culminating in a simple, brilliant climax that's both funny and incredibly powerful.
Doctor
In a year of heavy, serious dramas, we all desperately needed a laugh, and Nelson Dilipkumar and Sivakarthikeyan delivered. Doctor is a bizarre, quirky, hysterically funny dark comedy in which Sivakarthikeyan plays Varun, an unnervingly stoic military doctor who leads a motley crew of dysfunctional people on a mission to rescue his fiancée's kidnapped niece. It sounds like the plot of a thriller, but the execution is pure, deadpan comedy. Nelson’s signature style—putting eccentric characters into high-stake situations—is perfected here.
The most significant strength of the film is how it doesn't take itself seriously. Be it the stoic Sivakarthikeyan, the bumbling antics of Yogi Babu and Redin Kingsley- the comedy arises from the characters. And then, there is the music. Anirudh's "Chellama" and "So Baby" were chartbusters long before the film hit the screens. But easily, the scene loved by fans will be the metro-train fight. Perfectly choreographed and eminently staged, this action-comedy piece is both cool and ridiculous in equal measure-summing up in a neat package the unique charm of this film.
Master
When Lokesh Kanagaraj and Thalapathy Vijay announced a film, we knew it would be an event. Master was the first massive film to brave the theatres after the first lockdown, and it brought audiences back in droves. The film pits two titans against each other: Vijay's JD, cool and professorly alcoholic, against Vijay Sethupathi's Bhavani, monstrously cool and a ruthless gangster. The film is a classic Lokesh blend: stylish action, flawed heroes, and a raw, gritty energy.
While filled with all the mass-hero moments that fans desire, this film works the best when it's just Lokesh's world. Yes, the "Vaathi Coming" song became an anthem, a global anthem, and a definite soundtrack for 2021. But more than that, the scenes loved the most are those which fans still debate and celebrate: the a cappella "Kutti Story"; the metro fight-brutal and claustrophobic; and that final, raw, no-punches-pulled brawl between JD and Bhavani in the rain. It was a clash of two superstars, and it was pure, electrifying cinema.
Rocky
Every once in a while, there comes a film that is instantly etched into the memory, so instantly distinct is its visuals. Rocky is that film. This is not for the squeamish. Ultra-violent, bleak, and startlingly gorgeous, this revenge saga is akin to brute brutalist art as much as a Tamil film. All director Arun Matheswaran does in this, his maiden effort, is take a very straightforward plot, of a man, Rocky, played by Vasanth Ravi, who comes out of jail to wreak bloody havoc on the men who ruined his life. Talk of praise for this film is all about its craft. Shreyaas Krishna's cinematography is the real hero. Every frame is a painting, using stark monochrome, deep shadows, and sudden bursts of color. The film is filled with long, single-take action sequences that are more "Oldboy" than KGF. The violence is relentless, but it's presented with such artistic confidence that it feels almost operatic. Fan-loved scenes include one gut-wrenching single-shot hallway fight and a climax that's as beautiful as it is terrifying. It's raw, uncompromising, and really bold filmmaking. 9. Thalaivii The biopic on one of the most powerful, enigmatic figures in Tamil history-J. Jayalalithaa-is a monumental task. Thalaivii does this with surprising grace, heart, and a whole lot of old-school cinematic glamour. Wisely, the film tracks the early years of Jayalalithaa-from a reluctant film star to the protégé of MGR (played with uncanny charm by Aravind Swamy)-and her first brutal steps into the world of politics. Kangana Ranaut captures the fire and the vulnerability of the late leader, but the undeniable soul of the film is Aravind Swamy. As MGR, he doesn't impersonate; he's an incarnation. He nails the body language, the quiet charisma, and political acumen of the icon. The craft is top-notch: G.V. Prakash's score, and the rich production design perfectly capture the feel of two different eras. The scenes between MGR and Jaya-mentioned earlier-are the fan-favorite, quiet moments of mentorship, friction that somehow feel at once epic and deeply personal.
Sivaranjiniyum Innum Sila Pengalum
This film is a quiet masterpiece: an anthology that took years to get a release, Sivaranjiniyum Innum Sila Pengalum tells three stories of three different women, in three different decades, all trapped in the same invisible cage of patriarchy. Helmed by Vasanth, the movie is based on short stories by some of the all-time literary giants of Tamil literature. It is an honest, empathetic, and often enraging look at the mundane, everyday ways women are suffocated by family and society.
The craft in this film is subtle and devastating. It famously has no background score, using only the ambient sounds of a kitchen—the scraping of a pot, the hissing of a cooker, the click of a gas stove—to create a sense of claustrophobia. The editing, which won a National Award, is precise, cutting between the relentless, unpaid labor of women. The most talked-about scene is the climax of the final story. Sivaranjini, a former athlete now reduced to a harried housewife, sprints full-pelt down the street in her nightgown to catch her daughter's school bus. It's a breathtaking moment—a glimpse of the champion she was—and a perfect, heartbreaking metaphor for the film itself.