Remember that iconic scene in Say Anything where John Cusack holds up the boom box? Interestingly, Cusack initially resisted, worried it would make his character seem weak. It took a lot of persuasion for him to finally perform the scene on the very last day of filming, carrying an angry, defiant look that perfectly captured the moment. Paired with Peter Gabriel’s ‘In Your Eyes,’ it became an unforgettable image in pop culture.
Traditionally, heroes in cinema have shied away from showing vulnerability, fearing it diminishes their ‘alpha’ image. This makes Pradeep Ranganathan’s appeal quite remarkable. Despite criticisms that he’s a mere imitation (a ‘poor-cousin variant’ of Dhanush, who in turn is seen as a ‘poor-cousin variant’ of Rajinikanth, with mannerisms that are a copy of a copy), Pradeep manages to hold the audience’s attention.
What makes Pradeep stand out, amidst all his perceived awkwardness, aspiration, and lack of unique style, is his willingness to embrace vulnerability on screen. When his characters face humiliation—like being slapped or spat upon—audiences often connect with the raw, relatable portrayal. He excels at depicting truly unlikable characters, from the hypocritical sexist in Love Today, who has more secrets on his phone than he criticizes his girlfriend for, to the obnoxious, chain-smoking ‘Dragon,’ and now, the ‘Dude‘ who crashes his ex’s wedding demanding answers. These roles, embodying the worst of male behavior, somehow resonate.
While Rajinikanth is hailed as a Superstar and Dhanush proudly claims the title of ‘soup boy,’ Pradeep has carved his niche as the ‘Supreme Soup Boy.’ He fearlessly embodies the most questionable male archetypes, showcasing even the most unsavory characters can find a path to redemption.
This approach might seem like a step forward for Tamil cinema’s male leads, but the progressive themes in Dude often feel superficial. Pradeep’s ‘softboi’ character frequently exhibits aggressive, toxic masculinity, whether through a dismissive snap of his fingers or a violent slap. He portrays a type of softboi who believes he’s owed praise or even another romantic interest simply for performing the bare minimum of decency—a ‘slowboi’ who remains oblivious to the nuances of genuine respect.
Perhaps the film’s shortcomings stem from director Keerthiswaran’s inexperience in navigating such complex subject matter at just 26 years old. Dude is a frustrating experience: it starts strong, brimming with potential and skillfully building conflicts and themes for more than half its duration. However, it ultimately buckles under its own ambition in the final act, collapsing in the last thirty minutes as it struggles to resolve its many narrative threads. While the director deserves credit for avoiding a predictable reunion with childhood sweethearts, the narrative ultimately fails to provide compelling reasons for the female protagonist’s romantic choices.
Real-life complexities, be it in love or tragic ‘honor killings,’ cannot be conveniently resolved with a simple plot device. If the film aimed to champion female agency, it could have explored more daring paths, perhaps depicting the protagonist having a child with one partner and choosing another. Instead, Dude remains entrenched in a patriarchal framework where an unplanned pregnancy dictates her ultimate partner choice. This romantic comedy desperately needed a genuine female perspective, yet it settles for a flawed, male-centric viewpoint.
A still from Thamma | Photo Credit: SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT
Thamma: A Lifeless Attempt at Genre Blending
Ayushmann Khurrana has built his career on portraying vulnerable, “softboi” characters. In Maddock’s Thamma, an ambitious but faltering attempt to extend its Stree horror-comedy universe into vampire lore, he plays a vegetarian softboi who is bitten, resurrected by love, and transformed into a post-human Betal. The premise, though intriguing, quickly unravels.
Disappointingly, the film’s heroine, the super-powered Tadaka (portrayed by Rashmika), is quickly reduced to a mere supporting girlfriend role in the latter half. This creative choice is a significant step backward for filmmakers who previously championed feminist themes in Stree, as they regress to a tired “Chosen One” narrative. There’s nothing in the hero’s character that justifies his elevation to a superhero status, making the shift feel unearned and forced.
The script suffers from a severe lack of depth, much like Varun Dhawan’s famously minimalist wardrobe in his post-Bhediya cameos—barely present and offering no substantial cover.
Given the recent release of the far superior Lokah in a similar genre, Thamma, with its underdeveloped plot, is a film easily avoidable in cinemas. It might be worth a casual watch on an OTT platform only if you find yourself utterly devoid of other options.
A still from Bison | Photo Credit: SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT
Bison: The True Softboi Champion
Dhruv Vikram delivers a truly breakout performance in Mari Selvaraj’s Bison. He portrays an underdog “softboi” whose entire existence is dedicated to kabaddi, forcing him to navigate and overcome challenging situations without resorting to the violence inherent in his environment. He lives in a world where marginalization is commonplace, and the language of aggression plants seeds of discord in young minds.
Bison masterfully illustrates how sport can bridge long-standing societal divides. Every character, even those seemingly villainous, is depicted with layers of humanity, save for the perpetually pessimistic coach, who serves as a poignant metaphor for India’s flawed sports infrastructure.
In this narrative, agency truly belongs to the women: the older sister (Anupama Parameswaran) confidently chooses her own path in love, and the younger sister fiercely champions her brother, all while the men around them are locked in violent conflicts.
Ultimately, Bison is a film that successfully compels us to wholeheartedly support the “softboi” hero.
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