What makes Baba so unusual is its vulnerability. Rajinikanth, the man who built an empire on invincible screen swagger, chose to play someone deeply unsure of himself: a chain-smoking atheist, rough at the edges
It was Rajini stripped of armour. No larger-than-life punchlines, no invincible machismo. Just a reluctant man dragged toward destiny
Every Rajinikanth film is watched for clues about his political leanings, but Baba was drenched in them. An ordinary man, forced into leadership, asked to fight corruption, framed as destiny’s chosen one—this was barely coded metaphor
A.R. Rahman’s score is experimental and thumping—a spiritual trance disguised as film music . The dream sequences, with Baba floating through surreal landscapes pulled by invisible forces, carry a restless energy . Goundamani’s comedy, even when forced, lands more often than it should . And through it all,
