Rajnikanth makes many points in black and white, although Sivaji is a riotously colourful film. It is difficult to imagine that a theme that is sheer constantly coiled tension between a do-gooder NRI and a hydra-headed, corrupt State can meaningfully convey anything in the midst of constant diversions and distractions, not the least of which is the silken Shriya Saran.
But Sivaji does present his case, and in black and white, without being diluted by any greys in the picture. The most interesting part of the exploration is of course the character of money in India. What is black is only an intermediate stage between two white phases, if it is used to do good. Then again, with no apologies to Fair and Lovely, black is real and recognisably genuine, while white may only be a cover for evil, whether it is Suman's dhoti-shirt in the film or the Tamilised attire of the power elite in everyday life. A black Mercedes may have a symbolism of its own when someone evil is at the wheel - which is not surprising, as it is often an iconic representation of third world decadence, despotism and corruption. Rajni is seen with a silver Mercedes for a while, although the system finally turns him over to a black SUV.
Sivaji is concerned about the evils afflicting the system in this much vaunted largest functioning democracy in the world where the middle class pays donations to put its children in schools and colleges run by crooks in white. Director Shankar is a master of this genre. He trained his ballistic directorial skills at the monstrosity that is government to blow holes into it with Indian and Anniyan. This time, he literally drives a massive knife into the soft underbelly of the sleazy system using Rajnikanth's own patented style. Though he told The Hindu that there is no blood or gore in the film, there is a strong message of positive violence in Sivaji.
It is tempting to look at Sivaji as the first of a series of Rajni films that are bound the way of MGR. In fact, Rajnikant does not lose the opportunity to declare that he "is MGR," although he explains that it stands for M.G.Ravichandran. Never mind, we all get the message.
The big question, of course, is how Shankar pulled off a film which inflates the protagonist, the superstar, to a stature that dwarfs the Establishment and pummels the political class, the police and the bureaucracy into a bruised, injured and cowering state. Alas, to retain that overpowering persona, even 'Sivaji' has to seemingly reincarnate himself in the course of the film, handing a victory to the Establishment however superficial it might be.
If there is a resonance in Rajni's Sivaji, it is on the ascendance of greed in contemporary India and the helplessness of individuals who pose a threat to the corrupt merely by being charitable. Money and muscle, in khaki and out of it, gratefully serve corrupt masters.
The rest of the film, beginning with the grand spectacles that characterise Kollywood as much as Bollywood, are no more than digitally enhanced musicals. A regal day-dreaming hero, a nubile and fluid Shriya, Rajni's style made intelligible to the digiterati by A.R.Rahman's techno-vision and giant masquerades by Thotta Tharani...are these the defining features of Sivaji? Or has MGR just started taking aim at the establishment, hoping to tame the Goliath someday?
