Writer and Director: Nikesh RK
Cast: GV Prakash Kumar, Mamitha Baiju, Venkitesh.vp, Shalu Rahim, Karunas, Adhithya Baskar, Kalloori Vinoth, Subramaniya Siva
Available in: Theatres
Duration: 150 minutes
In a fleeting moment in the second half of Rebel, in what could be easily dismissed as a simple reaction shot, professor Udhayakumar (Karunas) smiles with relief and hope. And it’s the first time you see him genuinely happy. The film is set in the 1980s and he is seemingly the only Tamil professor in the government college of Chittur, Palakkad, where linguistic oppression takes different forms. He is the only such Tamil professor not because he is well educated and right for that position but also because he is subservient. So when he witnesses Tamil youngsters successfully fight for their rights in an election campaign, he realises that there is probably a chance to lead a better life. His inner transformation is one of the highlights in Rebel, which is otherwise loud and mostly predictable.
It’s predictable because when a character appears on screen, we instantly understand why they are introduced. When someone wants to go to the washroom alone, we realise what’s about to happen. When another character apologises, we already know what the other person is going to say. It’s because we have seen it in several other films where a revolutionary hero rises to save the day. Of course, films can have similar motifs but when they are too apparent, there is not enough space to emotionally connect with a character. We don’t see them as a real person experiencing different moments but as someone whose story is built to drive the film forward.
Said to be based on several real events, the film introduces GV Prakash’s Kathir, a Tamilian from Munnar who pursues his studies in Palakkad. Like Kathir, there are several other Tamil students in the college, so much that they account for 25% of the total population. Yet their life isn’t easy. For example, while Malayalees live in the ‘A’ hostel — a space that looks bigger than the tea estate in Munnar, we’re told, Tamil students are made to stay in the ‘B’ hostel. You see them sleep on floors in a narrow single room. The actual difference though hits you harder when the film later shows you the ‘A’ hostel rooms during a fight. On their very first day, the students are threatened to do horrendous tasks under the fear of being paraded naked. Such malicious ragging make their lives a living hell and the detailing leaves the audience traumatised.
When a fight breaks out during a rain, you can see Tamil students getting drenched, with the others holding protective umbrellas, reminiscent of how their linguistic ability acts as a shield from the monsters who misuse their power. There are moments of such brilliance that make you realise how powerful this story might’ve looked on paper. One such example would be the idea that went behind writing a few characters such as the senior who doesn’t give up on his studies, professor Udhayakumar and even Mamitha Baiju’s Sara. She is kind and empathetic but also views the whole situation from her privileged perspective. Yet just like Karunas’ professor, her realisation and transformation find very little space on the screen.
Given how impactful and essential the story and their revolution is, we can even overlook the other issues. But the film repeatedly portrays sequences that deeply disturb you. Although the depiction of the violence inflicted on Tamil students is necessary, there is hardly any need to show particularly brutal scenes on repeat just to “stir audiences’ emotions”. Unfortunately, Rebel thinks otherwise. Sometimes, the film also captures events with an ad-like quality — be it a student leader’s image in the backdrop of the college, a pan shot of old people from the Munnar estate wailing or the action sequences (which often lack logic) that exist only to glorify Kathir. These shots pull you out of the film’s world and make you wonder: in a film as serious and important as this, shouldn’t hero worship be the least of its concerns?