Evaluation: Naane Varuvean begins with a prologue that entails twin brothers, Kathir and Prabhu, with one in all them seeming to be mentally unstable. Abusive parenting and an encounter with a psychopathic kidnapper solely worsens issues. It begins to really feel as if Selvaraghavan is paying homage to Kamal Haasan’s Aalavandhan. However then, the remainder of the primary half proceeds like a homage to William Friedkin’s The Exorcist by the use of James Wan.
We’re launched to Prabhu (Dhanush, who someway manages to cover his star persona and comes throughout as a standard household man) and his household, which incorporates his spouse Bhuvana (Indhuja) and daughter Sathya (Hiya Davey). Every part appears to be rosy and Prabhu’s colleague Guna (Yogi Babu) even mentions how he’s jealous of Prabhu’s life. However then, issues get eerie. Prabhu sees Sathya talking to somebody in the midst of the evening and isn’t positive if she’s going insane or if, because the woman tells him, she’s really talking to a supernatural being.
Selvaraghavan directs these parts in a minimalist fashion that’s fairly a distinction to what we noticed him do in his earlier movie Nenjam Marappathillai. The sparseness of the moodily lit frames, the handful of supporting characters and Yuvan Shankar Raja’s eerie rating, guarantee that there’s a fixed sense of dread. And when issues begin getting critical, the filmmaking reaches a crescendo, and by the point we get to the interval, the director brings us to the sting of our seats.
However simply after we count on the second half to ship us such moments, particularly with the promised return of Kathir (Dhanush, who performs this cold-blooded killer with relish), the movie begins to lose depth. From the world of Selvaraghavan, we discover ourselves transported to generic psycho killer territory. And occasions unfold in a really handy style, providing us hardly any shock. As an alternative of the craziness of Aalavandhan and the chills of a horror movie, we get one thing fairly tame and tepid. The supporting characters, too, have hardly something to do past their practical roles. We get a fairly long-winded flashback involving Kathir, his speech-impaired spouse Madhuri (Elli AvrRam) and his twin sons, glorification of a problematic character, and an underwhelming climax that’s left open-ended simply so there’s room for a sequel.