I walked into Kandhanmalai with a certain curiosity, largely because the title itself carries weight and implication. A name like Kandhanmalai immediately signals ideological intent, cultural assertion, and a promise of conflict rooted in land, belief, and identity. From the outset, I expected a film that would either explore a complex socio political issue with nuance or at least commit fully to a cinematic narrative shaped by that conflict. What I encountered instead was a film that constantly changes lanes, often contradicts itself, and ultimately feels like several incompatible ideas stitched together without coherence.
The film stars Dharma Porali and H Raja, and from the very beginning, it becomes clear that Kandhanmalai is not interested in subtlety. The opening establishes a reference to the Thiruparankundram hill issue, but very quickly, the film signals that it is not actually interested in exploring that issue in depth. Instead, it uses it as a spark, a symbolic trigger, before veering off into multiple unrelated tracks that struggle to coexist within the same narrative frame.
A Title That Promises More Than the Film Delivers
As soon as the title Kandhanmalai appears, one naturally assumes the film will revolve around the struggle over Thiruparankundram hill. However, that assumption is short lived. Only a handful of dialogues address the issue directly, and even those are presented more as ideological declarations than contextual discussions. After this brief engagement, the film abruptly inserts a song, following which the narrative shifts into what can only be described as a theatrical love story. This sudden tonal shift feels disorienting rather than organic.
The film then pauses this romance to introduce a brief segment claiming to create awareness about a transgender person. This could have been an opportunity for empathy or insight, but the treatment is superficial and problematic. Almost immediately after this, the film pivots again, this time towards overt hostility against Periyarists and Ambedkarists, before concluding with H Raja positioned as a mass hero who commits a brutal murder. That act is presented as catharsis, and the film ends there.
When I reflect on this structure, the only metaphor that comes to mind is that the film feels like a torn pair of trousers stitched together loosely. Each piece exists, but none of them align in size, purpose, or direction.
Contradictions at the Core
One of the earliest and most striking contradictions appears in the film’s treatment of the Thiruparankundram issue. Right at the start, H Raja delivers a line with unmistakable emphasis. He says three times that the Thiruparankundram hill belongs only to Hindus, only to Hindus, only to Hindus. Even for viewers who may not be fully aware of the historical or social context of the issue, the intention is transparent. The dialogue is designed to provoke, to assert ownership, and to sharpen religious identity.
What makes this moment particularly jarring is what follows almost immediately. In the very next scene, during a panchayat meeting, the same character asks, are you trying to create problems among us when we are living in unity? Watching this unfold, I felt an acute sense of absurdity. It is like lying flat on your back and spitting upwards. The contradiction is not subtle, and the film makes no effort to reconcile or even acknowledge it. Instead, it moves on as if both statements comfortably coexist.
This pattern repeats itself throughout the film. The narrative repeatedly contradicts its own claims, leaving the viewer to wonder whether this is carelessness or a deliberate attempt to have it both ways.
Exploitation Disguised as Awareness
The film claims to speak in support of transgender individuals, but its actions betray its words. If genuine concern were the objective, one would expect a discussion of rights, dignity, or lived realities. Instead, the film includes a scene that relies heavily on cheap and vulgar content involving a transgender character. This scene is not only uncomfortable to watch, but it is also positioned as the interval block, giving it undue prominence.
Even this could have been handled with sensitivity, but the presentation is deeply disturbing. As I watched, I found myself asking, is this really a livelihood? The film does not answer that question, nor does it seem interested in doing so. The character becomes a spectacle rather than a subject, and the supposed awareness collapses into exploitation.
A Forced and Theatrical Romance
At some point, the film seems to acknowledge its own dryness and decides to inject romance into the proceedings. The transition is almost comical in its abruptness. It feels as though H Raja simply agrees to it without resistance, as if saying, I will do it, no problem with romance sir, not with you. The result is a theatrical love story that feels entirely disconnected from the rest of the film.
If one intends to attempt such a love track, there are countless examples of how to do it with restraint and emotional grounding. I could not help but think that the makers should have watched Mohanji before attempting this. Instead, they seem to imagine something in isolation and place it before the audience, expecting acceptance simply because it exists.
Targeting Ideology Through Distortion
One of the most troubling segments of Kandhanmalai is its portrayal of Dalit and Periyarist youth. They are shown as being drugged, kept in an intoxicated state, and instructed to lure women from dominant castes as if this were their sole occupation. One such attempt leads to a panchayat being convened, where H Raja’s character delivers what he describes as a neutral verdict.
He announces a 90 day trial period, stating that if the boy reforms, he will arrange a marriage. At this point, I briefly wondered whether the film might surprise me by choosing a less extreme route. That hope is short lived. Within those same 90 days, the film depicts the boy being murdered by people from his own Dalit and Periyarist circle. The implication is unmistakable. The film registers that all so called honour killings were carried out by them, while absolving the dominant caste side entirely.
As a viewer, I was left asking, what kind of picture are you trying to show us? The portrayal is not just biased, it is deeply irresponsible.
An Obsession With Periyar
The film’s hostility towards Periyar is neither subtle nor restrained. Criticism of contemporary political figures is one thing, but here the anger is directed at someone who has been dead for decades. The persistence of this rage suggests not relevance, but insecurity. It only reinforces how deeply his ideology has impacted those who oppose it.
The film repeats familiar slanders, delivered in the same tone and language that have circulated for years. Watching these scenes, it feels less like critique and more like an attempt to derive mental satisfaction from repetition. There is no new argument, no fresh perspective, only recycled hostility.
H Raja as a Reluctant Star
Perhaps the most unintentionally revealing aspect of Kandhanmalai is H Raja’s performance. Typically, actors transition into politics, but here it feels like the reverse, a politician aspiring to cinematic stardom. For most of the film, he does very little. He moves from place to place like a doll, present but rarely active.
Towards the end, it seems as though the filmmakers realised they needed to give him at least one physical moment. There is a single stunt scene, followed by a climactic act of violence. In this final sequence, he hacks someone with a sickle. The lack of control in the movement is striking. It looks awkward and uncomfortable, as though multiple takes were required to achieve even this.
The film ends with a dialogue delivered during this moment of violence, we will not fight only for land and women, we will also fight for the hill. That line encapsulates the film’s attempt to blend ideology with spectacle, but it lands with little impact.
Comedy That Falls Flat
There is also an attempt at humour, brief and forgettable. H Raja delivers a line, you unruly, lawless gang, and follows it with a self satisfied hehe. The theatre response is telling. There is silence, heavy and unmoved. Only a couple of people laugh, seemingly out of obligation. It would not surprise me if most of the intended humour ended up on the editing floor.
A Final Word of Caution
Just because the film carries the single title Kandhanmalai, viewers should not blindly support it under the assumption that it represents all Hindus. The version of Hindu identity presented here does not include Dalits, nor does it engage with their struggles. It speaks only for those positioned at a higher layer, leaving vast sections invisible.
Before aligning oneself with any issue presented so aggressively, a moment of self introspection is necessary. That, ultimately, is my opinion.
Final Verdict
Kandhanmalai is a film driven more by ideological aggression than cinematic intent. Its contradictions, distortions, and careless treatment of sensitive subjects make it a difficult watch. My rating for this film is 1 out of 5. That single point is awarded only because, at his age, H Raja has at least climbed this hill.
