Anniyan Movie Review: A Chilling Tale of Identity & Justic

Ramanujam “Ambi” Iyengar (Vikram) is a meek, idealistic lawyer from a traditional Tamil Brahmin family, rigidly devoted to dharma-living by rules that society has long abandoned. His love for Nandini (Sadha), a modern woman who values spark over sanctimony, is doomed from the start; she rejects him because he’s boring, unambitious, and too principled to fight for her. The rejection fractures his psyche, birthing two alternate personalities: Remo, a suave, globe-trotting model who charms Nandini effortlessly, and Anniyan (“Butterfly”), a masked vigilante who murders anyone he deems guilty of social crimes-from corrupt politicians and eve-teasers to dishonest auto drivers and landlords who mistreat tenants. DCP Prabhakar (Prakash Raj) leads the hunt for the serial killer, unaware that the monster he seeks is hidden inside a trembling lawyer. The psychiatrist (Nassar) serves as the audience’s guide through the disorder, while Vivek’s comedic alter ego, Chari Singari, provides a nervous, wisecracking counterpoint. The three identities inevitably collide, forcing Ambi to confront his fractured self before the death toll wins.

Shankar doesn’t do small. From the opening credits-a stunning animated sequence depicting a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis-the film announces itself as a sensory overload. The screenplay painstakingly builds Ambi’s world: the stifling orthodoxy of his father (Nedumudi Venu), the casual cruelties of city life, and a legal system that fails victims repeatedly. When Ambi first transforms into Anniyan, the shift is breathtaking. Vikram sheds the stoop, the stutter, the fear, and becomes a killing machine with cold, calculating eyes. The action set-pieces are inventive-Anniyan’s signature trap involving a rolling stone, a sword hidden in a water tank, and a climax that turns a wedding hall into a gladiatorial arena-all staged with Shankar’s trademark rhythm.

But the film’s real engine is Vikram. His Remo is pure charisma-slick hair, leather jackets, a crooked smile that makes Nandini swoon. His Ambi is a sympathetic mess, desperate and earnest, while Anniyan is terrifying precisely because he’s convincing. The metamorphosis is aided by A.R. Rahman’s score; “Kadhal Yaanai” is a sensual, bittersweet anthem for Remo, while “Kann Pesum” underscores Ambi’s tragic love. The background music, especially the orchestral sting for Anniyan’s killings, is iconic.

The film’s flaws are tied to its era. The CGI, particularly in the song “Iyengaaru Veetu Azhage” and the climax’s green-screen work, has aged poorly. Some subplots-the car owner (Cochin Haneefa), the house owner (Kalabhavan Mani)-feel like extended sketches from a different movie. The psychiatric explanations are simplistic, and Shankar’s moral calculus (is killing ever justified?) is muddled. Yet the film never pretends to be a documentary on DID; it’s a visceral fantasy of retribution in a world that feels beyond saving.

Pros

• Vikram’s performance is a once-in-a-generation showcase of range and physical transformation
• Shankar’s direction balances intimate character drama with blockbuster spectacle
• A.R. Rahman’s soundtrack and background score are emotionally resonant and thematically rich
• Prakash Raj delivers a grounded, compelling antagonist performance as the investigating officer
• Thematically ambitious: critiques apathy, corruption, and moral hypocrisy with genuine rage

Cons

• 181-minute runtime tests patience, especially in the second-half comedy track with Vivek
• Visual effects in certain songs and action sequences now look conspicuously dated
• The psychological explanation for multiple personality disorder is reductive and medically questionable
• Some characters (Nandini, the psychiatrist) are underwritten, serving as plot devices rather than people

“Anniyan” is not a perfect film, but it is a brilliant one-a daring, messy, glorious spectacle that uses every tool in the commercial cinema arsenal to tell a story about a man broken by a broken world. Vikram’s triple threat remains the benchmark for Indian actors attempting multi-role challenges. Shankar may have made grander films later, but none cut as deep to the bone of societal rot. In an age where vigilante justice narratives are ubiquitous, “Anniyan” earns its place as a progenitor, not just a product, of its times. Whether you’re discovering it for the first time or revisiting it on this July day, the butterfly still stings. 8.5/10