Do not miss These 2019 Best Tamil Films
If you had to pick one year in the last decade to prove how brilliant Tamil cinema can be, you'd struggle to find a better answer than 2019. It wasn't just a good year; it was great. It felt like every few weeks, a new film would drop that didn't just want to entertain us but wanted to challenge us, shock us, and make us think. It was the year we got a high-concept thriller with no songs, no heroine, and one man against an army. It was the year a neon-drenched, four-part epic made us question morality itself.
We witnessed superstars redefine their careers, writers come up with mind-bendingly original screenplays, and one actor carry an entire film from one room. 2019 was the year our filmmakers collectively decided to get rid of the rulebook. They showed that a "mass" film could be smart, and an "art" film could be a blockbuster. It wasn't a wave; it was a creative tsunami. Here’s a look back at the 10 films that made 2019 an unforgettable year for every Tamil movie fan.
Kaithi
Lokesh Kanagaraj did not merely create a film; he started a universe. Kaithi is that perfect, high-octane shot of adrenaline, never once hitting the brakes in its 145-minute thrill ride. The premise is brilliant in its simplicity: Dilli (Karthi), a paroled lifer, wants only to see his daughter for the first time. Instead, he is roped into driving a truck full of poisoned officers to a hospital by a lone cop and hunted by an invisible, relentless army of drug lords. There’s no heroine, no songs, and no flashback. It’s just one man, one truck, and one impossible night.
The craft in this film is what fans still talk about. The action is visceral and, more importantly, practical. Now, perhaps the most iconic, fan-loved sequence in the film has to be Dilli's "biriyani-eating" introduction—a single shot that tells you everything about his hunger, not just for food but for freedom. But the real magic is the emotion Lokesh builds. That final, tear-jerking phone call, the constant thrum of Sam C.S.'s "Dilli's Swag" BGM, and of course, the Gatling gun scene-it all comes together. Kaithi is more than a movie; it's a statement. It is pure, uncut, masterful cinema.
Super Deluxe
Some films you watch, others you experience. Super Deluxe is an event. Thiagarajan Kumararaja's second film is a sprawling, neon-soaked, and audacious hyperlink saga that juggles four different stories that all collide in spectacular, bizarre fashion. We have a couple trying to dispose of a dead body, some boys on a quest to watch porn, a religious healer grappling with his faith, and at the center of it all, Shilpa, a transgender woman returning to her estranged family. It's a film that asks big questions about sin, morality, god, and what it means to be human.
This is a film that’s impossible to pin down, and that’s its genius. Fans are still unpacking its endless layers and theories. Vijay Sethupathi’s portrayal of Shilpa is a landmark performance—not just brave, but deeply empathetic and human, especially in the tender scenes with his son, Raasukutty. The fan-loved craft is everywhere: from P.S. Vinod's and Nirav Shah's stunning, color-drenched visuals to Yuvan Shankar Raja's eclectic and haunting score. The scene where the boys discover the "alien" is a moment of pure, absurd brilliance. Super Deluxe is a weird, wonderful, and warped masterpiece that will be studied for decades.
Asuran
When Vetrimaaran and Dhanush get together, you expect fire. With Asuran, they delivered a volcano. A raw, raging, gut-wrenching tale of a family fighting to survive against the system structurally meant to crush them. Based on the novel Vekkai, this film tells the story of Sivasamy (Dhanush), a quiet, alcoholic farmer, compelled to unleash the violent past he buried long ago as his son angers a rich casteist landlord. Dhanush plays two versions of the same man: a young, explosive "Verimandi" in the flashbacks and a subdued, world-weary father in the present, and the transformation is stunning.
This is a film that's both a technical and an emotional powerhouse. The violence is brutal and hard to watch, not because it is for shock value but to make you feel the weight of Sivasamy's rage and pain. Manju Warrier is a force of nature as his wife, and the "Yen Minukki" song sequence is a rare moment of joy before the storm. The most discussed, fan-favorite sequence is, without question, the pre-interval fight. Sivasamy, having lost everything, finally snaps. The G.V. Prakash score explodes as Dhanush picks up the aruval, and the whole theatre erupts. It’s a primal scream of a film, anchored by its unforgettable final message: "We can't get back our land, but they can't take away our education."
Peranbu
Peranbu is not a film you "enjoy." It's a film you endure, you confront, and you are, finally, changed by. This is director Ram at his most unflinching and empathetic, telling the story of Amudhavan, played by Mammootty, a father who returns to care for his teenage daughter named Paapa, played by Sadhana, who has spastic quadriplegia. It's a brave, honest, and often brutal look at subjects Tamil cinema wouldn't dare touch: female sexuality, disability, and the societal disgust that faces an unconventional family. It's a film that makes you look away, and then demands you look right back.
Mammootty gives a career-defining performance, a master class in minimalism. His face is a canvas of quiet helplessness, love, and frustration. But the film belongs to Sadhana, who delivers one of the most physically and emotionally demanding performances imaginable. The craft is in its honesty. Yuvan Shankar Raja’s score isn’t a typical melody; it's the sound of a soul in pain. The fan-discussed scenes are the film's most difficult ones: Paapa experiencing her first period, and Amudhavan’s desperate search for a way to help his daughter understand her own body.
Thadam
In the year of heavy hitters, Thadam is that sleeper hit which nobody saw coming but everybody has talked about: a mind-bendingly clever whodunnit that takes a very familiar "identical twins" trope and completely turns it on its head. Arun Vijay, in a phenomenal double-action role, plays both Ezhil-a successful civil engineer-and Kavin, a small-time con-man and gambler. When one of them is implicated in a brutal murder, the police are left with an impossible riddle: when you have two identical suspects and identical DNA, how do you find the real killer?
This is a screenplay-driven movie, and it's tight. The first half gets the two characters set up, and then the second half throws you into that brilliant cat-and-mouse game inside the police station. The fan-darling craft is in the writing, especially in that final 20 minutes. The climax, where the film lays all its cards on the table and reveals how it cheated you, is a moment of pure, collective "Aha!" that sent audiences gasping. Arun Vijay is perfect - seamlessly switching between the slick Ezhil and the rough Kavin. Thadam is a reminder that a great idea, executed with precision, is the most powerful special effect of them all.
Oththa Seruppu Size 7
"Audacious" does not begin to describe this film. Oththa Seruppu is a cinematic miracle, a high-wire act that should be impossible, but R. Parthiban pulls it off. It's a film "conceived, crafted, and performed" by one man. Parthiban is the only person on screen for the entire runtime, playing Masilamani, a man being interrogated in a cramped police station for a murder. That's it. But from that single room, he builds an entire world, a complex whodunnit and a rich cast of characters. all of whom we only hear.
What the fans love is its sheer, mind-blowing craft. This isn't a chamber piece; it's pure, unadulterated cinema. The "co-stars" are the brilliant sound design from Resul Pookutty—a creaking fan, a voice from afar, a dripping tap—that creates a completely immersive world. Ramji's cinematography is wildly inventive, using glasses and shots through a swinging pendulum and abstract angles to make the single room feel like a vortex. Parthiban is a force of nature, and his performance is full of his characteristic wordplay and narration that's unreliable to a fault. It's a film that asks for your undivided attention and rewards it with one of the most unique viewing experiences in cinema history.
Jiivi
Jiivi is another of those small-budget gems that blew viewers away with the power of its writing. The film was built on an interesting, high-concept "what if?" The story revolves around Saravanan, an intelligent but unlucky man who, out of desperation, meticulously plans and executes a "flawless" robbery. But just when he thinks that he has gotten away with the crime, he starts to find strange and unsettling coincidences. He realizes that his life started to perfectly mirror the life of the man whom he has just robbed, caught in a karmic, triangular life cycle. This is a writer's film, and Babu Tamizh's screenplay is the undisputed hero. The central concept of the film, what it calls "thodarbiyal" (synchronicity or interconnectedness), sparked obsessions among fans. It's a film that respects its audience, trusting them to follow its intricate, non-linear plot. The "butterfly effect" narrative - every small action leading to a massive rippling consequence - is woven around this core idea and is the most loved part of the film. The climax is one of the most satisfying in recent memory, a perfect, logical, and clever twist that clicks the entire puzzle into place. Jiivi is the perfect example of intelligent, low-budget filmmaking.
Nerkonda Paarvai
This was more than just a movie; this was a cultural necessity. The Tamil remake of Pink, this film saw Ajith Kumar use his massive superstar status to back a story that needed telling. Ajith plays Bharath Subramaniam, a lawyer with a traumatic past, who comes forward to defend three young women who are falsely accused of assault and, worse, prostitution, after they defend themselves from a group of privileged, well-connected men. The film is a tense, crackling courtroom drama that puts modern society's regressive, misogynistic views in the dock. What works for this film is its clear focus. H. Vinoth's direction is keen and respectful, but the grounding is provided by Ajith. He dials down his "Thala" persona, turning in a restrained, brooding, and powerful performance. The undeniable fan moments are the courtroom sequences, where the entire second half is a masterclass in tension with Ajith's character systematically demolishing the prosecution case. His final thundering monologue on what "consent" is, and that simple, powerful phrase "No means no", reverberated outside of the theatre, too, making this one of the decade's most essential mainstream films.
Game Over
With this inventive, terrifying, and superbly constructed psychological thriller, Taapsee Pannu sealed her position as a superstar. Game Over is three for the price of one. It starts as a haunting horror film about Swapna (Taapsee), a game designer afflicted with PTSD, who has an irrational fear of the dark and a mysterious home invader. It then becomes a high-concept puzzle and then explodes into a brutal "survival-horror" home-invasion thriller, all built around a video game "three lives" mechanic. Its craft lies in its cleverness.
Fans loved how director Ashwin Saravanan used video game logic—like the "anniversary reaction" and the concept of "memorial tattoos"—to build a supernatural, yet simultaneously rather grounded, plot. The sound design is scary, making every creak and every tap a reason to be afraid. But the most loved part is, hands down, the third act. When Swapna realizes she's inside a "game," the film shifts gears. The wheelchair-bound woman's self-defense sequence against the killers is one of the most suspenseful and edge-of-your-seat sequences of the year.
Sillu Karupatti
In a year full of rage, thrills and high-concept plots, Sillu Karupatti was a warm, gentle and much-needed hug. This is an exquisite, sensitive anthology of four stories about love in its most unexpected forms. Director Halitha Shameem weaves together tales of a shy boy finding a connection through a "garbage-bin" love note, a young man who is a "rent-a-date" for a woman with cancer, a middle-aged couple re-discovering their spark, and two elderly strangers, who meet in a hospital and find a late-life companionship. It is a film of pure, unadulterated sweetness, and therein lies its superpower.
There are no villains, no twists to talk about, and no loud drama. There is just life in all its quiet, awkward, and beautiful moments. Pradeep Kumar's music is the soul of the film-a gentle, acoustic blanket that ties all the stories together. Fans loved its simplicity and its deep empathy for its characters. The most loved story, by a mile, is the final one, "Turtles," starring Leela Samson and 'Kravmaga' Sreeram. Their hesitant, tender, and utterly charming romance is the perfect "Sillu Karupatti" (a piece of palm jaggery) to end a truly wonderful film.