The first part of Mani Ratnam’s Ponniyin Selvan, co-written with Jeyamohan and Elango Kumaravel, began with Aditha Karikalan (Vikram) defeating the Rashtrakutas but refusing to behead their king. He circles the king on his horse, but when the moment arrives, his face clouds with a memory. He knocks off his headgear instead of his head. This is a battle-ready, aggressive prince but his rage is directed most at himself. The love he once harboured has twisted itself into hate.
The first film ended with Arunmozhi Varman (Jayam Ravi) falling into the sea, but the second film doesn’t begin from there. Instead, it goes back to that love story once again. A young Karikalan and a young Nandini (Sara Arjun is lovely) stealing tender glances at each other, unaware of the disapproval of the watching Chola clan. It is fitting that the sequel begins to unfold with this innocence – and with Nandini in focus – because it is what triggers the series of events in the plot. Betrayal, war, and above all, vengeance.
If you want to relish the film, the only way to do it is to completely forget about the book and all its twists and turns. Kalki had four years and the luxury of thousands of pages to pack in everything from sermons on Buddhism to moral dilemmas and shocking secrets to the story. It is unreasonable to expect a two-part film to capture the complexity of the series. So, expect compromises, adjustments, and even what might seem like sacrilege.
If Vikram plays Aditha Karikalan like an uncontrolled forest fire, Aishwarya’s Nandini is glacial. Cold, slow, and deadly. The drama in Ponniyin Selvan 2 is born of this binary. “You’re the only man who has seen Nandini’s tears,” Aishwarya tells Vandiyathevan (Karthi) in one scene. It’s a rare slip-up for someone who has trained herself to keep her face still like a mask.
Karikalan, in contrast, is always expressing himself freely, caught in a maddening swirl of emotions and political intrigue. “I don’t know anymore if even I’m on my side,” he says, seated on a restless horse. The camera sways from one side to another, reflecting his conflicted state of mind. These are two people who cannot forget the past – Karikalan hence cannot envision a future for himself, but Nandini? The future is all she has.
Vikram is superb in the role – watch him in the scene where he interrogates Parthibendra Pallava (Vikram Prabhu) to confirm if he had met Nandini. Doubt, anger, and even pity flash on his face within seconds, as he realises that his friend has fallen into Nandini’s web.
Karthi is all charm as Vandiyathevan once again, though he becomes significantly monogamous in the second film. His enjoyable banter with Azhwarkadiyan (Jayaram) reminded me of Vijay and Vadivelu from Pokkiri (2007); if Vadivelu was discovered because of his kondai (hair bun), it is the thoppai (belly) for Azhwarkadiyan.
In contrast to the smouldering love-hate between Karikalan and Nandini, is the gentle, playful romance between Vandiyathevan and Kundavai (Trisha). Mani Ratnam excels in creating little ‘special’ moments in his films – a simple “Hi pondatti” in Alaipayuthey (2000), for instance – and the chemistry between Kundavai and Vandiyathevan lies in this realm. Him, waving at her in a crowd, his face hopeful as a puppy. Her, moving forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with him.
It’s these moments that you remember as you walk out of the theatre, more than the sound and fury of the swords clashing in battle. Unlike the first film which had full-fledged, dramatic song sequences, there are only snatches of the songs in the second part. But AR Rahman’s soundscape brings echoes of the first film to make powerful connections. The unforgettable operatic score in the interval sequence in PS-1, for example, is effectively used in the second film to heighten the drama and add context to revelations. So, when the music plays, you’re not just watching the second film but also recalling the first.
Poonkuzhali (Aishwarya Lekshmi) and Vanathi (Sobhita Dhulipala) have even less to do in the second film, but have a pleasing presence nevertheless. I did say that one must forget about the book to enjoy the film, but certain episodes that have made it to the film lack the narrative cogency of the text because they are not adequately fleshed out. The Oomai Arasi (Aishwarya Rai Bachchan) and what happens to her, in particular, is disappointing. Considering how much she means to Sundara Chola (Prakash Raj) and Arunmozhi Varman, it is puzzling that she receives so little attention.
The connections between the various characters and their motivations may also be confusing to someone who isn’t familiar with the world of Ponniyin Selvan. For example, Periya Pazhuvettarayar (Sarathkumar) is plotting against the Cholas, but is devastated when bad news strikes the dynasty. In the novel, his political strategising and loyalties are clear, but it can be befuddling for a viewer who doesn’t understand the context.
The ending looks decidedly tame and unconvincing because a major twist in the novel is completely eliminated in the film. This may have still worked if the screenplay had adequately built the plot towards the big moment, but it doesn’t. It’s bland for those who have read the novel (they’re wondering why-why-why) and those who haven’t (they’re wondering how-how-how). The VFX in the scene just before the credits, summarising how the Chola empire expanded, looks tacky and ought to have been better for a film of this scale.
The ambiguities in the novel that paved the way for so many fan theories and discussions across decades, are resolved quite conclusively in the film. That the resolutions should be there is an understandable decision; it would be too vague and confusing for an audience that hasn’t read the novel otherwise. But one can’t help but wonder if Kalki trusted his audience of the 1950s to accept and understand destiny and its strange workings way more than our contemporary creators.
Still, for all its faults, Ponniyin Selvan 2 is a worthy sequel. If the novel belongs to Arunmozhi Varman, the film belongs to Aditha Karikalan. And who can resist Vikram when he’s at the top of his game?
Watch the trailer of Ponniyin Selvan 2 here:
Disclaimer: This review was not paid for or commissioned by anyone associated with the film. Neither TNM nor any of its reviewers have any sort of business relationship with the producers or any other members of its cast and crew.
Sowmya Rajendran writes on gender, culture, and cinema. She has written over 25 books, including a nonfiction book on gender for adolescents. She was awarded the Sahitya Akademi’s Bal Sahitya Puraskar for her novel Mayil Will Not Be Quiet in 2015.