I once knew of a man who spent decades of energy, time, and money climbing the stairs of courts in a prolonged fight for justice. It was supposed to be a rather simple case surrounding a piece of land. Hope kept his fight alive. Belief in God and the justice system stood with him. To him, the legal struggle almost defined his life. But it is nothing special when you realise that you would find someone like him on every other street in our nation, dragged through the murk for decades, and having lost precious time in appearing before adjournment after adjournment.

When the man-made judicial system eventually tests its willpower, these victims would turn to God, hoping the powers that be would intervene and fight the corruption that runs through the greasy palms of some lawyers and judges. Some people succeed and credit their deity. Some fail, but their belief in the superpower keeps their spirits alive. Now, what if the unthinkable happened for real? What if God, say, the Karuppu Saamy, who millions of Tamil Hindus have prayed to for aeons, appears before his disciples and fights against the injustice that transpires in the court of law? This is the vibrant and potent setting of Suriya’s latest film, Karuppu, directed by RJ Balaji — a heady supernatural action drama initially powered by a strong emotional core.

It has been a rather dramatic couple of days for fans of actor Suriya. It has almost become a rite of passage for ‘Anbaana’ fans, as the star’s films have repeatedly faced trouble — social media has long seen this crop of devoted fans battle odds, with few and far updates, subpar promotions, and films that fall short of their promise. This time, the very release of the film spiralled into a controversy, with everyone — even Balaji — turning to Lord Karuppu to sort out the issues. “Karuppu uzhaippoda vannam,” said Pa Ranjith, and without a doubt, there’s tremendous effort and labour that has gone into the making of this big-ticket film. And now, Karuppu is finally here — “Karuppan varaan vazhiya vidu” goes the line in a song in the film — and I am happy to report that this is the mass masala film Suriya fans have been waiting for. It features Suriya in a never-before-seen avatar and offers endless fan service through callbacks to the star’s filmography. 

But it is also RJ Balaji’s film, out and out, one in which he plays to his strengths and emerges largely victorious in the enormous challenge of helming a mass hero film. Perhaps the prayers of both Balaji and Suriya fans have helped them overcome some major obstacles.

The story of Karuppu, too, begins with a prayer — from two innocent robbery victims, Binu (Anagha Maya Ravi) and her father (Indrans), who run into an obstacle that forever changes their lives. Baby Kannan (Balaji) is an unscrupulous and vulturous lawyer who operates the Seven Wells district court with an iron fist. Nobody even dares to take up a case against his wish, and even the judge is a corrupt man regularly bribed by Kannan to win his cases. It’s a kangaroo court that swallows anyone who tries to change the order set by Kannan, like Kanmani (Sshivada), who is fighting a sexual harassment case against her former employee and central minister, VM Pandian, a powerful man who has Kannan in his pocket. Meanwhile, Binu and her father employ Kannan’s services to retrieve their stolen jewels from the local police station.

The clock is ticking because these are the jewels that are needed to fund Binu’s critical liver transplant surgery. However, to the disbelief of the two, Kannan and his gang ensure the case keeps getting adjourned, while they exploit them for biriyanis and cigarettes. When all hope runs out, Binu’s father prays to Lord Karuppan at a temple in the court — and thus it begins. Karuppu (Suriya) leaves his red-hued hellish abode and comes to Seven Wells, threatening to finish Baby Kannan. But that isn’t a fair war, isn’t it? The film would cease to exist if a literal God just killed the human villain. Accepting the challenge of his foe, Karuppu appears as Sarvanan (also Suriya), a lawyer who vows to seek justice for Binu, and through her case, upend Kannan’s predatory establishment

Right off the bat, there are quite a few nuggets of ideas that ground the film; in the beginning, we see Binu courteously offering her seat in the courtroom to an elderly woman on multiple occasions. However, when she is made to repeatedly appear in court, she loses herself in the process and stops offering the woman a seat — a tiny arc that shows how courtrooms could break people and turn them into unkind beings. There’s another fantastic subplot about a man named Shanmugam a.k.a Ghost. After being incorrectly declared dead 30 years ago, Shanmugan spent much of his life fighting a long legal battle. When he could no longer keep up the fight, he began to work under Kannan in the courthouse, as a living dead and a victim of the justice system.

While these ideas keep the film grounded to its reality, the problem with Karuppu begins when it veers from this potent emotional core after a point. Sure, the scenes that show Suriya in ‘God mode’ are fun to watch, but the emotional scaffolding begins to wither away, especially after the terrific intermission block. As a major hiccup, the film doesn’t clearly establish and maintain the rules of its supernatural entity, resorting to them as and when the plot progresses. Also, why must an omnipotent God of Justice fight for a man-made justice system created less than a century ago? Also, why does Karuppan choose to come now, through Binu’s case, while we clearly saw many others before Binu’s father offering prayers at the temple?

There are logical slips that you are asked to forgive — like henchmen who purposely run after a God as if their sickles would be enough to bring down a deity. The Karuppu character, too, seems to lack a dimension or two, as you never see him beyond spewing punchlines or innovatively sending men flying in the air. The ‘God Mode’ and ‘Raathu Raasan’ tracks, and their dance choreographies, hinted at what a more natural, more ‘humanised’ version of Karuppu could have felt like — I thought of the popular line from Varuthapadatha Valibar Sangam that goes “Karuppan kusumbu kaaran” — but the plot hardly allows for such moments.

It also seems like, after a point, Balaji and his team of writers have struggled to propel the plot forward, with Karuppu and his powers becoming a God-sized problem at the centre of the plot. It irks to see Trisha’s character, lawyer Preethi, serve little purpose beyond decoration. Meanwhile, though Sai Abhyankkar’s songs with Balaji’s picturisation fit this modern take on a ‘saamy padam,’ his scores do appear to distract one from the proceedings. But then, even through all these pitfalls, what really makes Karuppu a fun entertainer is the sheer control of the frame that Suriya exhibits and the goodness in Balaji’s morality tale. This is a story of hope, and hope is always a good thing. 

Remember the old man I mentioned who fought a case for over three decades? After his demise, his son began chasing the suits and climbing up the stairs of the courts. And today, while watching Karuppu, that son imagined what his father would have fantasised while praying to the many Gods. And for two odd hours, the atheist in him vanished, willingly. I don’t know if God could fight for justice. But Karuppu — even while being a shallow fanfare entertainer — could still instil hope and positivity. And perhaps that’s the real victory of the film. And in its own twisted way, perhaps that is still worth every penny. Just God things.

Karuppu is currently running in theatres