
Does Gautham Vasudev Menon’s frustration with anti-caste films stem from desperation, now that his stories glorifying stalking, extrajudicial killings and toxicity have far less takers?
Over the decades, Tamil cinema has given birth to numerous exceptional filmmakers like CV Sridhar, A Bhimsingh, BR Panthulu, Krishnan–Panju, J Mahendran, Bharathiraja, K Balachander, Singeetam Srinivasa Rao, Balu Mahendra and Kamal Haasan. However, not all of them have succeeded in inspiring the masses on a transformative level. Not that their films lacked impact; but, inspiring the masses on a large scale — to make them dream of cinema and pursue that dream steadfastly — is a feat that not all have achieved. From Mani Ratnam and S Shankar to Vetrimaaran and Pa Ranjith, that list is small.
Even so, it’s doubtful if any of them — perhaps with the exception of Mani Ratnam — managed to influence an entire generation in the way Gautham Vasudev Menon did. Beyond captivating audiences with his movies and aesthetics, Gautham redefined trends too, making things like engineering, guitar, Tanglish, filmmaking, train journey and youthful romance fashionable; so much so that for scores of youths, filmmaking became the default dream after engineering.
However, once a trendsetter, Menon has struggled to regain his footing in the industry over the past few years. Even setting aside the troubled journey of his delayed Dhruva Natchathiram, it’s no secret that his career has been on a downward trajectory, with his recent film Dominic and The Ladies’ Purse too failing to resonate. Moreover, even his once-celebrated films have come under scrutiny in recent years for their problematic themes and representations.
Amidst all this, the filmmaker also stirred controversy with some comments in a recent interview. In a conversation with Behindwoods TV, Gautham Menon, without naming anyone, stated that films addressing casteism are no longer relevant. Implying that the discriminatory practice no longer exists, he ‘explained’ that this is why such films are often set in the ’80s or ’90s. “These are not the stories we are looking for. I don’t think those stories need to be told anymore,” he stated, before claiming in the same interview that his surname Menon was his family name and not his caste location, an absurd argument.
His words not only expose the typical hypocrisy of caste-blind elites — who deny the existence of casteism while proudly using their savarna identities as surnames — and his intentional oblivion to societal issues but also highlight why he has become a declining figure as Menon seems unable to grasp that people have evolved and that their societal sensibilities and political awareness advanced. Therefore, one cannot blame those who feel that Menon’s frustration — with films addressing casteism — stems from a sense of desperation, as there is no longer a large fan base for his stories that glorify stalking, staring, impersonation, extrajudicial killings, homophobia, transphobia and toxicity.
Since Menon said, “These are not the stories we are looking for,” it’s worth examining the kind of stories he has told. Long before Raanjhanaa (2013) romanticised highly toxic male behaviour — such as stalking and manipulation — peddling it as love, the filmmaker’s Minnale (2001) sympathised with young men who engaged in such practices. Not only does the film’s protagonist, Rajesh (R Madhavan), stalk Reena Joseph (Reema Sen) after falling for her at first sight, but he also gathers personal details about her without her knowledge and impersonates her fiancé, Rajiv (Abbas). However, when his deception is exposed, he plays the victim, expecting sympathy under the pretext of ‘true love’. Despite cheating her outright and committing identity theft, he also wonders why Reena doesn’t understand his ‘love’ for her.
Under the guise of the age-old adage “all’s fair in love and war”, which men have long used to justify immoral actions without scrutiny, GVM, too, reinforced the notion that resorting to illegal behaviour was acceptable if one had ‘true love’. And with Harris Jayaraj’s ethereal music in the background, everything would look too cute.
Despite Menon’s claim that casteism is a thing of the past, it is emphasised in Minnale that Rajesh is a vegetarian Brahmin. In one scene, he also remarks, “There were many girls in our college. Have I ever talked about any of them? There were two gorgeous Iyer girls from Chidambaram and even a stunning Kerala girl. But I never pursued them.” Out of countless ways, Menon’s choice to invoke caste while discussing beauty reveals much about him. Notably, the caste-highlighting surname absent in Minnale suddenly appeared when Menon remade the film in Hindi as Rehnaa Hai Terre Dil Mein, where the hero was named Madhav Shastri, fully embracing his Brahmin identity.
The story that Gautham Vasudev Menon deemed compelling enough to share with the world next romanticised extrajudicial killings. At a time when Tamil cop dramas were becoming increasingly formulaic, he revolutionised the “righteous officer with a no-holds-barred attitude” archetype with Kaakha Kaakha (2003), introducing ACP Anbuselvan IPS (Suriya), an advanced encounter specialist who deliberately avoids romantic relationships to maintain a lone-wolf persona, keeping rivals from gaining leverage.
The film’s appeal was also heightened by the protagonist’s constant voiceover, presenting the narrative as his life flashing before his eyes. Centred around a specialised police unit led by Anbuselvan, where rules hold little significance in their fight against organised crime in Chennai, Kaakha Kaakha glamorised police officers, portraying them as infallible, with no moral ambiguity, and this portrayal contributed to the heightened admiration for encounter specialists as it conveniently ignored the atrocities committed by police, including custodial murders, wherein the victims are mostly Bahujans. Let’s also not forget that the name of Menon’s cameo role in the movie, which he himself penned, was Vasudevan Nair.
In his next original directorial Vettaiyaadu Vilaiyaadu, Gautham Vasudev Menon once again centred the story on a righteous cop, DCP Raghavan IPS (Kamal Haasan), who, though not an encounter specialist per se, is also shown engaging in extrajudicial killings of those responsible for his wife’s murder and a serial killer duo. Towards the end, Raghavan also, for absolutely no reason, delivers an extremely homophobic line, as if the characters’ sexual orientation was (illogically) related to their criminal actions. Meanwhile, the film’s graphic depiction of rape further fuelled a disturbing trend that continues in cinema even today.
Despite facing criticism for glorifying police brutality and extrajudicial killings — especially in the wake of incidents like the Thoothukudi case where two men were “allegedly” sexually assaulted, tortured and killed — GVM expressed no regret about creating these films. When The Hindu questioned him about it, he gave a bizarre response, saying, “I have had policemen walk up to me and say, ‘Naanga police aanadhe unagalala dhan’ (We joined the police force inspired by your films).”
Vettaiyaadu Vilaiyaadu also highlighted just how deeply flawed Gautham Vasudev Menon’s idea of romance is, with Raghavan proposing to a woman (who later becomes his wife) just two hours after meeting her at a wedding. And no, he doesn’t even ask her out first, but jumps straight to marriage simply because “I knew from her eyes that she loved me.” For a senior cop, his ignorance to running even a basic background check on this complete stranger, before asking her to spend the rest of her life with him, speaks volumes about his judgement, raising doubts about whether such an impulsive officer and his “Raghavan instincts” should be trusted blindly. In fact, though this detail added little to the narrative beyond providing some insight into his background, even Raghavan is portrayed as having a preference for vegetarianism, as evident in one of his dialogues.
Interestingly, Pachaikili Muthucharam (2007) is his only film where characters face rightful consequences for their actions, but its technical shortcomings and box office failure left it largely forgotten.
In his semi-autobiographical Vaaranam Aayiram (2008), Gautham Vasudev Menon took creepiness to another level by introducing a father-son duo whose go-to means of expressing love is through obsessive stalking. In the first instance, Krishnan (Suriya) wins over the ‘love of his life’ Malini (Simran) after stalking her for a week — never revealing himself at first but ensuring people around her inform her of his love. Years later, their son Suriya (also played by Suriya), inspired by his father’s tactics, takes things further, making them as creepy as possible and it begins with him staring unnervingly at a stranger woman, Meghna (Sameera Reddy), on a train. Worse still, the film portrays her finding it immediately endearing.
Encouraged by her reaction, Suriya goes out of his way to track down her address, follows her home, and later, in an even more unsettling turn, flies from Chennai to California — where she later enrolls in a course — to locate her, all without her knowledge, and confess his ‘love’. Given how frequently women experience stalking and harassment in real life, Gautham Menon’s romanticisation of such behaviours reflects his deeply problematic understanding of women and love. The fact that many crimes begin with a man stalking a woman under the guise of love only reinforces how dangerous this portrayal is.
GVM’s glorification of toxic relationships peaked with Vinnaithaandi Varuvaayaa (2010). Despite Karthik (Silambarasan) and Jessie (Trisha) being walking red flags and their relationship extremely unhealthy, the film was met with widespread acclaim and is still revered as a modern masterpiece. From stalking and non-consensual physical advances (as seen in the song “Omana Penne”) to emotional manipulation, the film normalised and romanticised deeply problematic behaviours. Though the script lacked depth and the characters only superficially developed, Gautham elevated the movie through stunning visuals, strong dialogues and the contributions of a skilled technical team — all of which helped cement its iconic status. While the film claims that Karthik and Jessie are truly in love, by the end, one can’t help but wonder: did they actually love each other, or were they simply drawn to the toxicity of one another and the strange gratification they found in mistreating and being mistreated by one another?
Caste makes its way into this film as well. While Jessie (Trisha) is depicted as belonging to the upper-caste Syrian Christian community, the movie states clearly that Karthik is a Veerakodi Vellalar. Although Menon could have framed the conflict in their relationship from a religious angle, his un/conscious decision to emphasise caste instead suggests that it remains a significant factor even today. Notably, when the film was remade in Hindi as Ekk Deewana Tha (2012), Karthik’s character was reimagined as a Marathi Brahmin, and here too, caste is explicitly mentioned.
Meanwhile, his psychological thriller Nadunisi Naaygal was nothing more than a dampened experiment, where neither the psychological depth nor the thriller aspects held together and the film ultimately ended up as a middling effort, simply featuring elements not usually found in mainstream Tamil cinema.
Although Neethaane En Ponvasantham/Yeto Vellipoyindhi Manasu (2012) is arguably Gautham Vasudev Menon’s most realistic romance film, tracing the evolution of an on-again, off-again relationship from childhood to adulthood, its flawed execution significantly weakened its impact. Despite Ilaiyaraaja’s remarkable soundtrack and Samantha’s compelling performance, the film struggled to leave a mark, with Gautham failing to even add his signature touch to the toxic moments in the narrative.
He returned to the police genre with Yennai Arindhaal (2015). While this film showcased greater maturity in storytelling and was a notable improvement over his previous two cop movies, his long-standing obsession with glorifying uniformed officers remained unchanged. The film, like its predecessors, overlooked the crimes committed by law enforcement officers and also the systemic issues cops faced and focused merely on an idealised, morally upright police officer, placed as the ultimate force against societal evils.
Though his later films Achcham Yenbadhu Madamaiyada (2016) and Enai Noki Paayum Thota (2019) were less problematic — at least on the surface — Gautham Menon’s fascination with uniformed forces was evident in them as well. Moreover, both films were overwhelmingly male-centric, with the women having little to no influence on the course of events, despite being just as affected by their consequences. The back-to-back setbacks of these films, despite featuring Gautham’s signature elements and more, highlighted the diminishing impact of his once-effective formula.
The three segments he directed for the anthology films Putham Pudhu Kaalai (2020), Paava Kadhaigal (2020) and Kutty Story (2021) were largely forgettable, with none leaving a lasting impact. Among them, the most problematic was Vaanmagal in Paava Kadhaigal, which presented an extremely superficial and performative take on child sexual abuse and rehabilitation. While the segment does not directly mention caste, it features enough hints to show that the protagonist and family belong to an upper-caste background that considers menstruation an “impurity”.
When Gautham Vasudev Menon finally told the story of a non-elite protagonist in Vendhu Thanindhathu Kaadu (2022), he deviated from the cotton candy-like, ‘feel-good’ narratives he had crafted for his savarna heroes. Instead, Muthu (Silambarasan) is shown to be hailing from an extremely impoverished background and begins earning a living by joining the world of organised crimes, gradually climbing the ranks to become a gangster himself, as if that’s the only way non-elites can assume some power.
While addressing Menon’s comments, it is also important to mention the recent controversy surrounding director Varsha Bharath’s Bad Girl, produced by Vetrimaaran and presented by Anurag Kashyap. Shortly after its teaser was released, the film faced backlash, with many accusing it of insulting the Brahmin community. However, the incident also exposed the deep-seated casteism that persists among people. While producer Vetrimaaran bore the brunt of the criticism, Varsha, a Brahmin, and Anurag Kashyap faced significantly less scrutiny. This is despite Varsha stating in an interview that the film is rooted in her personal experiences.
What makes this even more troubling is that Pa Ranjith’s name too was dragged into the controversy despite having no direct involvement with Bad Girl. The entire episode not only erased Varsha’s presence, illustrating how women are often sidelined even when their work is under scrutiny, but also revealed the savarna audience’s entrenched intolerance towards Bahujan filmmakers, their growing influence and the stories they choose to tell.
Yet, even as such issues unfold around him, Gautham Vasudev Menon appears oblivious to casteism and focused on churning out subpar films like Dominic and The Ladies’ Purse, which also highlights his poor understanding of trans representation and queer politics. Nonetheless, despite his career being on a downward spiral and his once-‘acclaimed’ films now facing intense scrutiny, Gautham Menon is still firmly established in the industry. He should, hence, also remember that not every Gautham can continue working in the industry, directing films, and securing dates of major stars like Mammootty — effortlessly pulling off projects, despite consecutive failures and a reputation for delayed productions. Menons might be able to, but certainly not all Gauthams.