I recently made the decision to quit Tamil cinema. Let me tell you why.

Technically, I don’t work in the Tamil cinema industry. At no point in my life have I seriously considered packing my bags to Kodambakkam. I don’t even know anyone personally in the film fraternity, except for a couple of friends who probably have half a step in. I’m just a disappointed fan who stopped by to say hello and call their baby ugly.

What gives me the right, you might ask.

Have I contributed anything to the cinema industry? No. Would I call myself a movie buff? No. Do I know all there is to know about the art, technology, and economics of filmmaking? Still no.

I’m just a disappointed fan who got scammed.

Lured by all the teasers and trailers playing their own numbers game, the barrage of interviews and promotional videos that pretty much dictate a film’s box office, and the grand audio launches that were about everything but the audio. All elaborate schemes and shenanigans contrived to such an extent that would have put the best snake oil salesmen to shame.  

A scam is what it was.

However, I’m a reasonable guy. Like everybody who ever got scammed, I have to blame myself; it was all my fault for falling for it in the first place.

Like millions of kids across the world in the ‘90s, I was fascinated by the TV the moment I set eyes on it; I could not get enough of it. Growing up, I sat through film after film, watching in wonder the colorful characters and what little I understood of their stories. I was one of those kids who proudly wrote watching films as a hobby in slam books that we passed around.

Soon enough, as I saw enough of it and started rewatching the ones I liked, I found myself understanding the ulterior motives, the character arcs, and the intricate details. All of which I would analyze, discuss and debate with so much passion that would have made film critics stand up and applaud (or so I thought). Over time, I also started poring over pages and pages of IMDB trivia, subreddit threads, and comment sections on Facebook posts, Instagram reels, and YouTube shorts as if my career depended on it.

I mean, could you blame me?

To me, it was a world full of wonders. Wonders of all shapes and forms, from rags-to-riches to whodunits to comedies to tragedies to the evergreen masala entertainers. It was also a world full of miracles. Miracles that turn nobodies into actors, actors into stars, and stars into chief ministers.  

However, this wonderful, miraculous world also had its flaws.

It was an unfair world where no matter how hard you worked, there was always someone who knew somebody’s somebody; where the higher you got, the harder you fell; and where your successes were easily forgotten, but failures were not as easily forgiven.

Failures that were put on full display, stark naked, for people like me to condemn and criticize, hidden behind the safety of the internet. In a way, the rise of the internet probably caused more harm than good for Tamil Cinema, because, at a point when it was getting easier to make films, it was getting harder to sit through them.

Think about it. You have an entire generation of directors, screenwriters, cinematographers, art directors, lyricists, musicians, technicians, actors, and even studios all brimming with the skills, creativity, ambition, and grit to make a name for themselves. With the right guidance, support, and investment, we could have had countless blockbusters and masterpieces we yearn for, and probably more.

But what did the industry focus on instead? Pointless promotions, exorbitant salaries for the elite few, extravagant audio launches, and award ceremonies, all while chasing Tamil culture and representation, which apparently lies in the film title and not in the female lead’s ability to pronounce Zha (or even speak the language for that matter).

What’s more painful is that, for the most part, all this exuberance and extravagance went towards a remake that almost always disappointed the original or a sequel that kept getting worse over time.

It’s almost as if a good, original idea is a dying breed these days.

If you look closely, you’ll find out that it’s not. There were a good number of films over the past few years that were original, stayed true to its core, and did good business.

But what did we do then?

What did we do when a newcomer with an original idea and an inexperienced (but talented) cast and crew came together and made a good film? We instantly rewarded them with a studio-fronted, A-lister starring mega-budget monster, attached with seventeen constraints and expect them to repeat what they did the first time.

It’s like finding someone who made a good bread omelet for two people, providing them with a fully stocked, state-of-the-art kitchen, a team of sous chefs they probably haven’t met before, and tasking them with cooking a kalyana virundhu for a hundred people, while tying their hands behind their back, and expect it to be served right on time for a Diwali release.

It’s no wonder you get these 50-50, 75-25, and 100-0 compromises that don’t stay true to the artist, the patron, or the audience.

How many times have we seen the same reel roll again and again? A big movie gets announced (with a working title after the lead actor’s name and movie count), followed by a series of cast and crew announcements. Then you have the teasers and trailers which rake in millions of views in a matter of hours, and the music release with a couple of couple of minute songs that get further trimmed down to fifteen-second hooks that become viral on social media, all fueling the hype cycle.

Then you have the promo videos, sneak peeks, interviews, and reels that further inflate expectations, all peaking towards a climax on the day of the release. After which, even before the general audience gets to see the film or even decide whether to watch it or not, you have a hundred reviews, expert analyses, and interviews that do not give a rat’s ass about spoilers; and by the opening weekend, the film has made millions in profit, making the actor bankable, the director reputable, the cast and crew successful, the distributors profitable, and the producers relieved.

But what about the rest of us?

The rest of us disappointed fans who want a good film, not these dimwitted shitshows that take the audience and their hard-earned money for granted. Don’t we deserve such a world, where directors aren’t forced to write, writers aren’t forced to direct, stars don’t abuse their status, couches don’t sub in for casting directors, and big studios don’t strongarm new entrants?

I cannot tell you how many times it broke my heart when a weakly written, abomination of a film that was not worth the paper it was written on raked in hundreds of crores in its opening weekend while a solid entertainer by a newcomer failed to break even.

But don’t get me wrong. I’m not against big star projects or commercial films for that matter. I like good commercial (or should I say masala) films, just like the next guy. I certainly don’t want Tamil Cinema to leave our roots and only make art films that cater to less than ten percent of the audience. As a fan, I would happily spend 150 (or even 180) minutes on a solid commercial film that entertains me through intro songs, parallel comedy tracks, fan services, and director cameos. I’m fine with all that, as long as there is reasonable logic, and the film stays true to what it set out to be.

What I’m against is haphazardly made meaningless garbage that only serves the patron and not the creator or the audience.

But like I said, I’m not a filmmaker, a movie buff, an industry insider, or even worse, an influencer. I’m just a disappointed fan who got tired of what I was forced to see on the big screen. There was nothing I could do to change all this.

So, I quit.

Well, when I say I quit Tamil Cinema, I kind of lied. I didn’t stop watching Tamil films entirely; it’s quite the opposite.

I probably saw more Tamil films in 2024 than I did in 2023. What I quit was the abhorrent hype cycle that infected us through mass communication, the internet, and social media. In other words, I closed my eyes, ears, and mind to the visual and verbal diarrhea that was constantly fed to us through the TV, radio, YouTube, and social media.

And what did that achieve, you ask?

During the last couple of months, I saw five films on the big screen without knowing one ounce about them, except for the fact that it was spoken about. I heard about it through word of mouth; you know, how our ancestors went and saw films.

And I loved every minute of it. To be honest, they were some of the best movies of the year, so I might be a little biased. But what I loved more than anything was that I was able to see the films for what they were, what the creators meant for me to see, and not what was peddled by the Instagram page handlers, meme creators, or influencers.

So, here’s what I have for you. I believe that as a nation and industry built on democracy and capitalism, we, the audience, have the power to decide what we see, hear, scroll, and swipe. But like a wise man once said, with great power comes great responsibility.

So we also have a responsibility to see actors for what they are, and nothing more. More than anything, we should pity them. They’re just like us, trying to make a living. The only difference is that they’re working in an industry that is substantially more competitive and ruthless than ours, where the one percent of the one percent are celebrated while the rest are chewed up and spit on.

So, let’s see them (and the rest of the semi-celebrities) for what they are and not expect anything from them. Let’s not fight and spread hate on their behalf; they certainly are not going to fight for us. They don’t even know who we are; we’re all just numbers in the grand scheme of things.

Let’s separate the reel from the real and don’t let it fill up your social media with crude posts, hateful gossip, and tasteless remarks that serve no purpose. Don’t let all that visual and verbal diarrhea dictate your hormones, state of mind, and actions.

But hey, that’s just my opinion. You are certainly entitled to your own as well.

I’m sure there are many out there who find pleasure in letting their hormones run wild after every single movie announcement, spend hours watching and rewatching teasers and trailers, hoping that it will make a difference, and ultimately sacrifice your time, money, and energy for those who vacation on beaches far away from all of us.

For the rest of us who want to be entertained and want Tamil Cinema to thrive, flourish, and inspire the next generation of artists, but at the same time, have our own lives, careers, friends, and family that we prioritize above all, I have two words for you: Quit it.

You’re welcome.

Sincerely,
A Disappointed Fan