‘Lubber Pandhu’ movie review: Harish Kalyan, Attakathi Dinesh hit it out of the park with this wholesome entertainer

Harish Kalyan and Attakathi Dinesh in ‘Lubber Pandhu’
| Photo Credit: Special Arrangement

In a country like India where cricket is an emotion, there’s no dearth of films on the beloved sport. From biopics on some of the best players the game has seen, to using cricket as a backdrop for a heart-warming underdog drama, several iterations of the game have been explored. Now with Lubber Pandhu, director Tamizharasan Pachamuthu sheds light on the rubber ball cricket tournament culture prevalent in the deep pockets of Tamil Nadu, and intricately weaves an intriguing narrative around it.

Some films blow your mind with a distinct story set in a completely new backdrop while others narrate a simple, straightforward story but work thanks to the way its elements come together; Lubber Pandhu is a textbook example of the latter. In the film, Anbu (Harish Kalyan) is a small-town guy and a gifted bowler who crosses paths with Poomalai a.k.a. Gethu (Attakathi Dinesh), an older, much-revered batsman. A series of unfortunate incidents trigger their egos and their on-field rivalry spills into their personal lives… only for it to hit a crescendo when they learn that Anbu is in a relationship with Gethu’s daughter Durga (Sanjana Krishnamoorthy).

Films on ego and interpersonal relationships seem to be working well for Harish. He ended last year with a bang thanks to Parking, where his character faced off against a fellow tenant, played by the veteran MS Bhaskar. In this film, his rivalry is with Attakathi Dinesh who is fresh off the success of the underrated J Baby which was also, incidentally, about family and interpersonal relationships. While the premise might sound similar to Blue Star which came out earlier this year, Lubber Pandhu dwells deep into the intricacies of relationships and how egos can effect them. The fact that both films also hold a mirror to how deep-rooted caste-based discrimination is in our society in a subtle manner, is the cherry atop the cake.

Both the lead characters are not particularly challenging roles, though Harish and Dinesh pull them off quite well; the reason boils down to how their characters have been sketched. Anbu and Gethu are two men belonging to two different generations but that’s about all the distinctions they have. Both would do anything for their one true love, value friendship, are players with egos as massive as their talents, and, of course, love cricket more than anything else.

Director Tamizharasan does a splendid job of characterising and, as the film progresses, humanising Anbu and Gethu’s tryst with a myriad of emotions. Anbu, as his name suggests, is the first to wave the white flag while Gethu, as you might have guessed, is the harder nut to crack. Speaking of names, Yashoda (played by an impressive Swasika) has to turn into a mother figure for her husband Gethu who prioritises his game over the betterment of his family. For a film on a sport between testosterone-powered men, Lubber Pandhu pleasantly surprises you with how well the women characters are written.

While the romantic portions between Anbu and his girlfriend Durga (Sanjana Krishnamoorthy) are written with enough care to not slacken the flow of the film, it’s the matured romance between Yashoda and Gethu that is most memorable. This works predominantly because of the love-hate relationship they share, along with an additional layer brought in by the fact that they belong to two different castes. Lubber Pandhu also showcases the men to be impetuous creatures while the women — who face the brunt of their male counterparts’ actions — are more level-headed and keep things from falling apart. But arguably the best part of the film is how it never villainises any of its characters or romanticises their flaws; it shows them to be a product of their circumstances, and how all it takes is one right call to get into the good books of their family members.

Tamizharasan introduces us to the world of rubber ball cricket, and its impact on the lives of its players, complete with their quirks; there’s even a scene where a bride signs an agreement at her wedding reception that she would let her husband play cricket with his friends! Be it the introduction songs they play every time a star player walks into the pavilion — it’s Vijayakanth hits for Gethu, and Vijay for Anbu — or how Gethu uses his handkerchief as a bat handle grip, the attention to detailing turns us from theatrical watchers to stadium spectators. A personal favourite is how the film defines two particular timelines with how much a rubber ball costs in that specific year.

And boy, the cricket match portions are a treat to watch! The director spins a googly with these sequences as he goes against the grains of usual cricket film tropes. Tamizharasan subverts expectations at crucial moments and these nuggets of little wins lets us ignore the film’s snags such as a forced female empowerment trope surrounding a player, that feels unnecessary. As with every Tamil film on cricket, there’s ample scope for humour thanks to the colloquial game commentary, but Lubber Pandhu takes it up a notch with the characters played by Bala Saravanan and Jenson Dhivakar. The film also does a wonderful job when it comes to managing its secondary characters and the one played by Kaali Venkat could very well become a fan-favourite.

With several arcs weaved together seamlessly — including the caste oppression angle to which Tamizharasan gives a profound resolution — the filmmaker makes his mark as a talent to watch out for. Lubber Pandhu is a breath of fresh air and a refreshing addition to the ever-growing list of films on cricket; so much so that we can call it a whole new ballgame.

Lubber Pandhu is currently running in theatres