Kalki’s book has been echoing through Tamizh lexicon for well over half a century, and the idea of a film adaptation must’ve been as daunting for three generations of avid readers as it was for the plethora of artists who’ve attempted to bring the story to this medium. Touted to be Mani Ratnam’s dream project, this is a prestige project for stakeholders and fans alike, and arguably the Tamil film event of the year. The significance of it is such that it managed to command two shows at 4:30am in Mumbai, on its first day of release, the earliest show for any film in the city as far as I can remember.

I haven’t read the books, but was made well aware of the characters, and their hyped interactions, by the internet (both voluntarily and involuntarily). With this albeit limited but key knowledge, the film does read like a mere visual representation of the books rather than organic dramatization. There are two reasons – the assembling of events feels very episodic, as opposed to resembling an organic flow of events. It’s worth wondering how such a string of highlights would work for someone with absolutely no clue about this story or its world. I’m almost coming to believe that this feeling of watching highlights of a story, is inevitable, considering the disproportionate size of the adaptation, compared to the length and breadth of the source material.

This leads to the second reason, that the characters come across more as personalities renewed from a lengthier source rather than well-rounded people belonging to this particular screenplay. This is a problem I had with Chekka Chivantha Vaanam too, where I even noted that it could’ve fared better as a lengthier series as opposed to a single film. Since that problem’s being addressed here with the duology format, the episodic feel isn’t as prominent as that film.

But surprisingly this nature isn’t a major hindrance in enjoying the proceedings here. There’s enough characteristics to be invested in and root for, in this adaption. My favourite passage of the film on first watch, has to be the when we get inside Aditha Karikalan’s psyche. The medium is put to full use here, starting with Ravi Varman’s swirling handheld camera for the prince’s monologue of turmoil, which segues beautifully into AR Rahman’s Chola Chola that has both celebratory dance and moments of repentance, leading to Sreekar Prasad making way for deftly edited flashback imagery that cuts through the song. Vikram is brilliant here, fully justifying to the bone his casting as the forlorn warrior. In the same flashback, Aishwarya Rai conveys through her eyes alone, that this is the moment of Nandhini’s arc – easily the most interesting character of the lot, also one whose entirety is yet to be revealed.

Every actor gets a scene or two to justify their presence in the film. Karthi’s humble playfulness and candour, sells every one of Vanthiyathevan’s flirtatious instances across the gallery. Trisha’s conviction of coming from royalty lends an air of intimidation to Kundhavai’s gaze. The gradualness and calm in Jayam Ravi’s eyes make it easier to buy his wisely decision-making as Arulmozhi Varman. Aishwarya Lekshmi brings a charming familiarity to a secondary character who’s propped up by an intro song on top of her individuality. All the characters (baring Nandhini) are informed by their primary traits and not by any sort of emotional arc, which is why the casting work gone in is commendable for carrying the sort of weight that the writing doesn’t (yet).

Another gripe I have always had with Indian period pieces is the way their production design is oblivious to one key element that can bring us closer to the milieu – dirt. It’s this detail that’s always been missing in the sets and costumes of historical films. We’ve always gotten very sanitised, spick-and-span environments that may make us go “wow” about the extent of work gone into them, but never about how believable and lived-in they look. This issue is felt in a few places here as well, but the ageing done on the leather-heavy costumes, and some tight framing reduces the impact of this problem.

For a production of this scale, the graphics work gone in might be immense, but the stains are as basic as a lack of depth-of-field, making a lot of the graphic additions stick out severely in a number of instances. I’m also disappointed by the return of yet another problem that plagues Tamil cinema, just for the fact that it turns out to be in this film – the slowing down of 24fps footage, a frame rate that’s not meant to be for slow motion. It creates a jerky, shoddy effect that always feels like a mistake. Please read this as a rant about Tamil cinema’s standards than as nitpicking of this film.

All the action sequences are shot in a manner that would’ve made them immersive, with less weightage on scale and more on on-ground human reactions. But the way they are truncated on the edit with no beats within the sequence, makes them look like chunks that aren’t alive enough to inspire awe. Be it Karikalan’s conquests, Vanthiyathevan’s chase sequences or Arulmozhi Varman’s introduction, they’re all plagued with the same issue. The climactic setpieces though, starting with the elephant escape up until the action block on the ship, have better progression and a sense of stakes to root for.

It’s the character interactions that are the most likeable takeaways from the film, with the way they are propped up by Rahman’s surprising musical choices and some sharp dialogue exchanges. In fact, these make for better theatrical moments than all the action blocks, making one wish for more of such dynamic flashes of character brought in by the director’s keen eye for elevating emotion through staging. We see these during the Nadhini-Kundhavai meet, Karikalan’s rant, the Nandhini-Periya Pazhuvettaraiyar exchange, among others. The way the camera moves around characters espousing expository dialogue, creates drama of its own. This is exactly what we’re signing up for when we see a Mani Ratnam billing.

The subtle and subdued sensibility of the filmmaker, and the terrific focus does bring a fairly refreshing take on the period drama to our cinema. There’s barely any flab, and most importantly there’s poise when a moment warrants it.

All said and done, this is a likeable attempt at a magnum opus, with an engaging enough plot of scheming to get me interested in II. Yes, there is a dullness that permeates across the events of the film, but I’m able to overlook that in favour of the little bouts of excitement shared between the characters. It may not be rousing, but it’s fun.