Movie Review: 2.0 (Tamil)

2.0 is what happens when Shankar's unfettered imagination runs riot. But even all the visual razzle-dazzle becomes a little too much to handle as the movie tries to unsuccessfully juggle multiple versions of Rajinikanth. The movie, a sequel to the 2010 hit Enthiran, is 2.0 times the grandeur, 3.0 times the ambition, narrating a cautionary tale about our excessive reliance on cellphones, the effects they pose to birds, and a vigilante film calling for moderate use of technology. Only in a surprise subversion of Shankar's tropes, the man who turns against the system is not the protagonist, but an elderly ornithologist (Akshay Kumar as Pakshi Rajan, not even bothering to lip-sync in Tamil), who, angered by the injustices perpetrated to birds in the name of technology, morphs into a vengeful bird (literally), embarking on an Anniyan-like retribution spree on cellphone shop owners, manufacturers, and even the telecom minister of the state.

Shankar's blend of social message and sensory spectacle is entertaining, fun to watch, but as a techno-thriller portraying the negative effects of electromagnetic field radiation, it's as straightforward as it comes, never for once dwelling deeper on the complicated moral universe it's set in. The constant dumbing down is a turnoff, the payoff isn't as exciting (Vaseegaran ultimately ends up espousing what Pakshi Rajan was trying to communicate in vain, but it could have been that much more effective had it come from the bird man himself), and the science behind it all is half-baked, but make no mistake: 2.0 is a blast, a certified blockbuster in the truest sense, bolstered by charismatic performances from its lead actors (Amy Jackson's pop culture references are a hoot) and a terrific technical crew, with the makers smartly sticking to the story and never pausing for unnecessary melodrama or song sequences. More than anything, it's a shining testament to the visionary filmmaker Shankar Shanmugham.

P.S.: This is the second time after Chekka Chivantha Vaanam that A. R. Rahman's music is relegated to the background, as if it was a mere afterthought, and it leaves me wondering if his aesthetic has gotten so eclectic and unconventional to the point that it's impossible to conceive them as typical song-and-dance routines. On the other hand, it only makes sense. Why does Shankar, a man known for creatively picturising songs in his films, need one when the whole film is an eye-popping extravaganza!