“Neenga nallavara kettavara? (Are you a good or a bad person?)” This is a question SP Athiyan IPS (Rajinikanth) answers through his actions in director TJ Gnanavel’s film Vettaiyan, though the line between good and bad remains blurred. The story ventures deep into sensitive themes, exploring extrajudicial killings, caste-based discrimination, and sexual violence, all while bearing the star power of Rajinikanth. Since its release, Vettaiyan has ignited conversations about its themes and portrayal of vigilante justice, raising questions about the film’s message and its complex stance on law and morality.
The reaction to Vettaiyan has been mixed. On one hand, there are audiences lauding its attempt to address controversial subjects like encounter killings; on the other, there are critics who feel that the film relies too heavily on the star persona of Rajinikanth. This divisive response is understandable, especially given Gnanavel’s previous work, *Jai Bhim*, which was widely praised for its critique of custodial violence. It was expected that he would similarly denounce encounter killings in Vettaiyan, and there are moments where the film does so. Yet, the narrative often swings between condemning and glorifying these killings, leaving the audience uncertain of the director’s stance.
In an interview at Vettaiyan’s audio launch, Rajinikanth shared that he encouraged Gnanavel to add commercial elements to ensure the film’s success. Although Gnanavel accepted this advice, he and co-writer B Kiruthika attempted to infuse a critical view of encounter killings. At the film’s conclusion, Athiyan denounces extrajudicial measures, suggesting that the filmmakers intended to critique the practice. However, as they crafted a script designed to appeal to Rajinikanth’s fans, they may have unknowingly softened the core message, leading to a film that seems to condone the very issue it aims to question. This dissonance highlights the tension between a creator’s intent and the final impact of their work.
One clear sign of Gnanavel’s intention to challenge encounter killings is found in his selection of a retired judge as Athiyan’s adversary, rather than another police officer, journalist, or activist. Sathyadev, the judge, plays the role of a more seasoned Advocate Chandru (Suriya) from Jai Bhim. Chandru was based on a real-life judge from the Madras High Court, and Sathyadev is portrayed as a retired judge from the Bombay High Court. This choice underscores a commitment to questioning the ethics of such encounters, as the opposition comes from a figure of lawful justice.
Conversely, Athiyan’s moniker, “Vettaiyan,” meaning “hunter,” echoes the name of the merciless king in Chandramukhi, another Rajinikanth film, making it unlikely that this connection was accidental. In one scene, Athiyan scolds a colleague for holding casteist and colorist views, suggesting that those his colleague looks down upon value relationships deeply and would go to great lengths to support their loved ones. This perspective, however, does not overshadow Athiyan’s own actions, which take a darker turn.
As the story progresses, Athiyan realizes that his encounter killing of Guna, who was accused of raping and murdering schoolteacher Saranya, was a fatal error since Guna was not guilty. In the film’s climax, Athiyan refrains from taking justice into his own hands, instead bringing the real perpetrators to the legal system. By the film’s end, Athiyan is teaching young officers the importance of law enforcement as “protectors, not hunters,” bringing the narrative to a thoughtful resolution. Yet, despite this moral turn, Vettaiyan as a whole fails to clearly reflect this intended lesson, and its impact becomes muddled.
The opening title sequence subtly foreshadows the film’s stance on extrajudicial justice. The assembly and loading of a gun are prominently featured, which may suggest a subconscious celebration of the weapon and the power it represents. Before Rajinikanth’s character appears, Patrick (Fahadh Faasil) remarks, “Conscience is bigger than law,” and within minutes, Athiyan is seen in intense gun battles, killing three people, set against a stirring score by Anirudh Ravichander. Each encounter seems to validate his authority, painting him as an embodiment of justice.
Athiyan’s portrayal as a symbol of law enforcement is reinforced when Saranya, discovering drugs in her school, reaches out directly to him. Soon after, he infiltrates the drug ring, and in a violent confrontation, kills its leader. Every time he completes a mission, Athiyan repeats his signature line: “Kuri vecha, erai vizhanum (When the hunt is on, the prey must fall).” Hunting, by definition, implies a pursuit that often ends in death, casting Athiyan’s approach as one of relentless elimination rather than justice.
The portrayal of sexual violence has been widely criticized for being excessive, but Gnanavel may have intended these scenes to stoke the audience’s anger against the criminals. The result, however, has been to justify the encounter killings, feeding the desire for retributive justice. The film also references the Banning of Unregulated Deposit Schemes Act of 2019, setting its narrative in a specific time period. Yet, it ignores the 2018 Supreme Court ruling that prohibits media from identifying deceased rape victims, repeatedly broadcasting Saranya’s name and image. This approach seems calculated to intensify public outrage, bolstering support for encounters before a trial.
Vettaiyan draws comparisons with A Few Good Men, where Colonel Nathan Jessep (Jack Nicholson) is a central figure who, like Athiyan, believes that he upholds a moral duty to eliminate weakness. Jessep’s illegal “code red” leads to tragedy, and he ultimately faces legal consequences. However, Athiyan, despite wielding similar power as investigator, judge, and executioner, remains the film’s hero. Jessep’s character is treated as a villain, while Athiyan’s acts are excused, almost celebrated.
Some may argue that Athiyan is justified because his actions target only criminals. Yet, even he is susceptible to biases and vengeance, as seen when he kills Guna without verifying the evidence. Relying solely on information from a fellow officer, Athiyan overlooks the potential for corruption within his own force. Sathyadev points out that encounters are generally reserved for marginalized individuals, underscoring how the legal system often fails to protect the poor. Here, the killing of a dark-skinned man from a lower economic background is presented as an act of justice rather than a flaw in the system.
Even though Athiyan’s change of heart is suggested when he spares the film’s antagonist, Natraj Shanmugam (Rana Daggubati), he continues to eliminate Natraj’s associates, suggesting that his journey to redemption is incomplete. Jessep’s climactic moment in A Few Good Men, where he defends his harsh measures as necessary for national security, echoes Athiyan’s own stance. This alignment between the two characters underscores a key issue: Jessep’s illegal actions lead to his punishment, while Athiyan’s actions are forgiven and even valorized.
Although Athiyan spares Natraj, the lack of consequences for his earlier actions conveys a troubling message. This, coupled with the lack of critique from his peers, suggests a tacit acceptance of his methods. Jessep’s character asserts that his actions are for the good of the nation, a rhetoric Athiyan implicitly follows, and the narrative implies that questioning him undermines justice.
The film does raise valid points regarding the commercialization of education and the challenges faced by marginalized children. However, the hero worship of a character like Athiyan, who takes the law into his own hands, is problematic. Rather than clearly denouncing vigilantism, Vettaiyan veers towards celebrating it, with Athiyan ultimately emerging as a “kettavan” – a villain masquerading as a hero.