Retro Movie Review: A Stunning Time-Bending Thriller

The film opens in the present, where Paarivel Kannan (Suriya) is a reformed man running a modest bookshop in a coastal town. He’s quiet, guilt-ridden, and trying to forget a life of bloodshed. That past is personified by his alter ego, Jada Muni - a legendary, ruthless enforcer for a 1980s crime syndicate. But Paarivel’s peaceful existence shatters when Rukmani (Pooja Hegde), a fierce journalist, uncovers his true identity. Her investigation drags him back into a world of old debts, simmering vendettas, and a powerful don named Thilagan (Joju George, a towering presence). The narrative shuttles between two timelines: Paarivel’s earnest courtship of Rukmani (the romance thread) and Jada Muni’s violent rise and fall (the action-drama). The two threads are meant to intertwine, but the stitching is uneven.

Let’s address the elephant in the room: Suriya. This is arguably his most committed performance in years. As Paarivel, he’s a portrait of clenched-jaw melancholy - a man who looks like he’s constantly swallowing a scream. As Jada Muni, he lets loose with a snarling, kinetic physicality that recalls vintage Kamal Haasan. The makeup work is seamless, but it’s the eyes that sell the duality: one pair holds the weight of regret, the other gleams with manic brutality. Pooja Hegde, sadly, is underutilized. Her Rukmani is written as a narrative catalyst rather than a character. She shows sparks of fire in her confrontations with Thilagan, but the script gives her little to do beyond looking concerned or determined.

Director Karthik Subbaraj has always been a stylist, and Retro is his most flamboyant canvas yet. The action sequences are choreographed with a savage ballet - a hallway fight that splits into neon-lit shadowplay, a boat chase that feels like a fever dream. The music, by Santhosh Narayanan, is a character in itself. The romantic ballad "Kaadhal Enbathu" is haunting, while the gangster anthem "Muni Muni" pounds with percussive fury. But the sound mix occasionally drowns dialogue, a technical niggle in an otherwise lush production.

The problem is the screenplay. At 162 minutes, Retro has no concept of economy. The first hour is a masterclass in tension: we glide between Paarivel’s tender, almost silent romance and Jada Muni’s brutal enforcement, with Subbaraj’s camera gliding through sets that feel like graphic-novel panels. But then the cross-cutting becomes a crutch. The second hour bloats with repetitive flashbacks and monologues about fate and redemption. A subplot involving Jayaram’s "Chaplin" Lolly - a comic-relief fixer - is charming initially but overstays its welcome. The climax, a long-anticipated confrontation in a rain-soaked dockyard, is visually spectacular but emotionally cold. The film tries to have it both ways: a bloody catharsis and a romantic reconciliation. It achieves neither fully.

Comparisons to Subbaraj’s own Jigarthanda Double X are inevitable. That film balanced genres with a lighter touch. Retro feels like a director straining for an epic, but a good editor might have saved it. The TMDb rating of 6.444 feels fair - it’s a film you admire more than you love.

Pros

• Suriya delivers a career-best dual performance: raw, vulnerable, and menacing.
• Karthik Subbaraj’s visual storytelling is at its peak - every frame is a painting.
• Santhosh Narayanan’s score and songs are exceptional, perfectly complementing both romance and action.
• Joju George and Prakash Raj provide solid, intimidating support.
• The first hour is gripping, with tight pacing and genuine emotional stakes.

Cons

• The 162-minute runtime is unnecessarily bloated; the second half drags significantly.
• Pooja Hegde’s character is underwritten, reduced to a plot device.
• Tonal inconsistency: romantic scenes are abruptly undercut by brutal violence.
• The climax prioritizes spectacle over emotional resolution.
• Some subplots (Chaplin Lolly’s side story) feel like filler.
• The sound mix occasionally muddles crucial dialogue.

Retro is a film of towering ambition and frustrating flaws. It is a feast for the eyes and ears, but a test of patience for the mind. Suriya’s dual act is the kind of performance that will be remembered in career retrospectives, and Subbaraj’s direction confirms him as one of Tamil cinema’s most audacious visual artists. Yet for all its swagger, Retro cannot escape the curse of the bloated middle act and a climax that trades catharsis for style. It is a film that wants to be a classic, but settles for being a fascinating, messy masterpiece-in-progress. If you have the stamina, it’s worth the journey. Just don’t expect an easy ride.