Kollywood Film Industry’s Biggest Hits of 2023
If the story of 2022 was one of return, and in no more sensational terms than the return of blockbuster cinema, then 2023 was the year Kollywood got its groove back. It was a year of awe-inspiring equilibrium. Because, for every 500 crore monster cranked out by a superstar which filled seats in multiplexes, there was a small, quiet content driven film that won them over. It really did feel like the whole industry was firing at all pistons. We got razor-sharp thrillers, resonant political statements, heartwarming family dramas and some of the wildest genre experiments we’ve seen in a decade.
The best part? The audience was game for anything. We went to see our icons, and we turned out in force for new directors and actors who just had a good story to tell. It was a year in which one of the most talked-about movies could be about snoring and also about a gangster epic. It was an illustration that the two streams of Tamil cinema “content” and “commercial” are not just distinct; they can, and did, infuse each other in gorgeous ways. Here’s a round-up of the 10 movies that created an impact in 2023 and made it a memorable year for Tamil film industry.
Jigarthanda DoubleX
He is Karthik Subbaraj, and he didn’t just make a sequel; he made a spiritual successor which many felt was better than its predecessor. Jigarthanda DoubleX is an epic example of fanboy ambition a sprawling, quixotic “Pandya Western” whose heart is on fire with love of cinema. A notorious elephant-hunting gangster, Caesar (Raghava Lawrence) aspires to be the first dark-skinned hero in Tamil cinema. He makes an imprisoned cop-posing-as-a-filmmaker, Kiruban (S. J. Suryah), his biopic’s director. Beginning as a meta-comedy about filmmaking, soon sending off powerful political shockwaves that shake you up to the core with this rip-roaring epic on art, revolution and rights of am oppressed tribal community.
This movie is a feast on top of being perfect. Raghava Lawrence gives the performance of a lifetime as Caesar, who is capable of savage violence but possesses an innocent and childlike vulnerability. But S. J. Suryah, as the man behind the camera, almost upstages them with his customary maniacal energy that eventually gives way to real conviction. The “Interval 2.0” confrontation—a dazzlingly choreographed, single-shot-style invasion by an elephant that quite literally paves the way for the movie’s explosive political climax—left audiences speechless. With the breathtaking cinematography of S. Tirru capturing the wild landscapes and Santhosh Narayanan’s goose bump-inducing score, DoubleX isn’t just a flick; it’s a thesis on how an equipment like camera can be more powerful than an AK-47.
Viduthalai Part 1
Coming out of Asuran, Vetrimaaran followed it up with Viduthalai Part 1, as raw, brutal and uncompromising a movie he has ever made. Kumaresan (Soori) is a young, idealistic police constable who we are introduced to in the deep end: recently stationed to a forest area away from town. He’s part of a vast police operation, called “Ghosthunt,” to nab Perumal, a.k.a. Vaathiyaar (Vijay Sethupathi), the leader of yet another separatist group. The movie is a slow-burn procedural, depicting the soul-crushing pragmatism of a low-level cop caught between a government that demands brutal outcomes and a revolutionary cell with a cause he can’t entirely condemn.
It was this film which defined the birth of Soori, the actor. His portrayal of the naive, empathetic Kumaresan is eye-opening, a study in innocence corrupted by systemic violence. Viewers were traumatized by what became the film’s most-discussed sequence: a harrowing, prolonged interrogation and torture of tribal women that was an unwelcome baptism into the actual price of this conflict for audiences. Technically the film is top class and R. Velraj’s camera is a character in itself in portraying the jungle on screen. And then there's Ilaiyaraaja. His music, and especially the “Onnoda Nadandhaa” song, offers a rarer, more soulful balm in what is an otherwise relentless gut-punch of a film about the moral rot of power.
Chithha
There are films that are difficult to stomach, but impossible to outlive. Chithha is one of them. It addresses the monstrous topic of child sexual abuse with a sensitivity and an adultness that is heartbreakingly rare. Siddharth (who co-produced the film) is Eeswaran, or “Chithha,” a loving uncle who lives and breathes for his little niece, Settai. The director, S. U. Arun Kumar, spends the first half of Anjathey building this beautiful, funny and deeply affectionate bond, effortlessly making us fall in love with their world. And then, he shatters it. Settai gets kidnapped, and the movie suddenly turns from a heartwarming drama to an edge-of-the-seat, gut-punching thriller.
Siddharth gives a gut-punch of a muted performance, playing a man who seethes with rage he can’t unleash and guilt that’s eating him alive. The genius of the film is in what it does not show. It would rather otherwise indulge in sensationalism, replacing it with a psychological chain-reaction downswing the trauma, the suspicion and residents’ gut-wrenching pursuit of justice. The last 30 minutes, including the scene in which Eeswaran and another relative of a victim take on the perpetrator head-on, is a masterclass in tension and emotions being cathartically purged. With a haunting score by Dhibu Ninan Thomas, Chithha is not just an outstanding thriller but also mandatory and unforgettable cinema.
Por Thozhil
2023 was a great year for the serial killer thriller, Por Thozhil being the undipusted king of them all. The setup in one of the oldest mills: A bright-but-coward rookie investigator, Prakash (Ashok Selvan), must be paired off with a gruff, cynical but brilliant senior officer Lokanathan (R. Sarathkumar) to catch a serial killer who is after young women. But what sets this movie apart above all is that straight-ahead, take-no-prisoners script. There are no romantic subplots, no forced comedy tracks, and definitely no unnecessary songs. It's 100 percent a pure investigative procedural that respects its viewers' intellect.
But the movie’s soul is in its odd-couple chemistry between those leads. Sarathkumar is a revelation; he portrays the world-weary Lokanathan with understated authority. His deadpan dismissals of Prakash’s theories offer some the film’s most satisfyingly dark humor. Critics and fans both adored the “art of war” metaphor that Lokanathan teaches Prakash: to catch a killer, you must be inside his head. The interrogation scenes, particularly one fraught sequence at a railroad crossing, are master classes in how to ramp up tension. Por Thozhil is a taut, intelligent, and supremely confident debut from director Vignesh Raja, proving that a smart script is the most special effect of all.
Maamannan
Mari Selvaraj’s Maamannan is not so much a film as it is a political eruption. It’s a movie that takes the “sins of the father” trope and turns it into a searing examination of generational trauma, and what we’re willing to put on the line for dignity. Maamannan (a hulking Vadivelu) is a seasoned Dalit MLA who, despite his rank, has lived all his life under the slavery of the party’s trigger-happy district secretary Rathnavelu (Fahadh Faasil). Maamannan’s scribbling, angry son Athiveeran (Udhayanidhi Stalin) can’t stand his father’s docility, and in a single burst of violent resistance gets pappa to show some spine — stand up for his rights and sit down on the ground one last time.
The movie is a star vehicle for two extraordinary performances. Fahadh Faasil is rivetingly scary as Rathnavelu, a man so inherently venomous in his casual caste bigotry. But the film, to say nothing of the year, belongs to Vadivelu. In a single act, he breaks down his "Vaigai Puyal" comedian image to give a powerful, emotive performance vis-a-vis an actor reclaiming his lost identity. The most discussed occurrence in the entire 2023 was the interval block — Vadivelu returning to face Fahadh after his defeat and disgrace, sitting down on a chair stubbornly (and electrifyingly) refusing to rise. It’s a symbolic act of defiance that’s more potent than any punch, all abetted by A. R. Rahman’s pulsating, folk-inflected score for winning, yet another acknowledgement as to how an “Alaipayuthey” unleash can eat the screen up raw.
Leo
Leo wasn’t just a movie; it was a film-going event. The year’s most hyped Tamil film delivered precisely what it was marketed as: a Lokesh Kanagaraj action-spectacle starring a reigning superstar. Vijay is Parthiban, an unassuming cafe proprietor and animal rescuer in a snowbound Himachal Pradesh town. But when he violently, viciously protects his family and cafe from attack, he draws the eye of a powerful drug cartel fronted by Antony (Sanjay Dutt) and Harold Das (Arjun) ― who are convinced that Ram is in fact Leo Das, their thought-to-be-in-hiding son. The film is a fast-paced, staccato journey centred around the question at its centre: is he Parthiban or is he Leo?
This is Lokesh Kanagaraj unleashed. Fans worked themselves up into a furore over the film's "leave your logic at home" set pieces, including the much-memed opening scene where Vijay tames a CGI hyena and that brilliantly choreographed, bone-crunching café brawls. It’s a technical spectackle, with Anirudh’s score making every action block sounds like a rock concert. The “Naa Ready” and “Badass” songs were their own events. But the most satisfying moment of all, for the fan, was arguably its simplest: The ending, after all chaos has unfurled — when Parthiban has emerged from his labyrinthine maze with one last chilling laugh to affirm in no uncertain terms who must actually have been and always will be. It was a large-hero moment, LCU style.
Jailer
If Leo was the hype, Jailer was the hurricane. This movie was the quintessential "Superstar" comeback, an extravagant crowd-pleasing homage to Rajinikanth. Coming off Beast, director Nelson Dilipkumar created the perfect vehicle for Thalaivar. He portrays “Tiger” Muthuvel Pandian, a retired jailer who leads a peaceful life with his family. When his clean-cut, do-gooder son — a law-and-order cop — gets mixed up with a savage idol smuggler (the excellent Vinayakan), the old tiger must come out of retirement, which entails dredging up his “old” violent self and cashing in some big favors from some very plugged-in pals.
Jailer is a fan's dream. The first half of the film is a good action-comedy, but second half, though? Straight fan service and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Legendary are the theatre-erupting moments: take one of them, where Rajini re-establishes his authority in the middle-block (Hukum). And then, the cameos. Why would we even want more!?! Appearances by Mohanlal and Shiva Rajkumar, fanned by Anirudh’s earth shattering BGM were not treated as sequences but rather public festivals. Anirudh actually is the second hero in the film. From the “Hukum” theme to the viral “Kaavaalaa” track, his score turned Jailer from a blockbuster into a true-blue cultural phenomenon.
Good Night
In a year filled with serial killers and gangsters, one of the most popular films was about a man who snored loudly. Good Night is a tiny movie with a huge heart; the endearing, storybook feel-good drama won over its audience by being small and straightforward. Manikandan (from the hit Lover, in which he also starred) stars as Mohan, a kind-hearted sweet guy from a middle-class family who struggles with a comically and yet problematically loud snoring problem. This “problem” ends up ruining his life when he falls for and marries Anu (Meetha Raghunath), a shy, repressed woman who has her own insecurities Peregrine enters into as well.
The magic of the movie is its relatability. It’s a slice-of-life drama that manages to find humor and also melancholy in the mundane. The brother-in-law (played by the wonderful Ramesh Thilak) with whom Manikandan shares some of his film’s biggest laffs downpulling their tired oared faces turned into “Oh, I see just one small problem after another that can’t be fixed.” But Good Night is at its core a sophisticated and poignant look at the small, silly and very real compromises that ensure m arriage works. The fan favorite where Mohan, in desperation, uses every absurd antisorreners on the market is so funny and moving at the same time. It’s a warm hug of a movie and further proof that you don’t need big money to make a big difference.
Dada
Dada was the year's most pleasant surprise, a movie that started with your typical "coming-of-age" plot - and then injected it with so much heart it became an unlikely sleeper success. Kavin, in a breakout performance, is Manikandan, a reckless final-year college student whose life goes haywire when his girlfriend Sindhu (Aparna Das) becomes pregnant. A huge mistake and an unfair turn of events in the hospital leave Mani holding their baby boy, alone. The movie then becomes a great, if increasingly sad, story about an young single father doing his best against all odds to raise his child.
This film was a big hit for someone who was relatively new to Kavin. He is absolutely devastating in his transformation from a childish boy to mature, loving father. The moments of him trying, unsuccessfully, to juggle a new job while keeping his newborn baby hidden at work is as realistic as it’s funny. The crowd hearts shattered and rejoiced along with Mani, particularly during the pre-climax when he meets Sindhu for the last time and everything that went wrong in their equation is revealed. Dada is an endearing, emotional and refreshingly up-to-the-minute story of love and fatherhood combining earnest lead performances with soulful soundtrack by Jen Martin.
Ayothi
In an era of big-budget spectacles, Ayothi was a quiet, powerful testament to humanity. It’s inspired by fact, the film is an emotional gut-puncher. Lalita (City Palace Jaipur) A regressive patriarch (Yashpal Sharma) from Ayodhya takes his family on a pilgrimage to Rameswaram. His wife is killed by a terrible accident arranged by his driver and for the reason of so many manipulations her dead body is under a red tape; he can not move it not get in touch with that "inauspicious" sign according to his faith. It’s here that a local, Sasikumar (Sasikumar), and his friend Pugazh (Pugazh Thangaraj) step in, putting their own lives on hold to lend a hand as this grieving, resentful family attempts to transport the body of its fallen overachiever home, battling bigotry and red tape at every turn.
This is a film about “love over religion,’’ and it never has to get preachy about its point. Sasikumar, who’s great at this sort of everyman hero, functions as the film’s moral center. But the movie relies on its heart-breaking-but-hopeful story. The scenes in which she is caught between her monstrous father and the kindness of strangers are excruciating and beautiful. When the patriarch has a sudden change of heart at the climax, it is a hard-earned, tear-jerking catharsis. Ayothi was an underground sensation, but it was for the proposition that maybe, sometimes, in some places and at certain times, to be merely kind could be the most heroic thing a person could do.