18/10/2025
Bison (2025), Blends emotion and violence.
Bison Kaalamaadan marks a coming-of-age moment for Dhruv Vikram as an actor. You can’t leave the theatre without admiring the commitment and hard work he has invested in this film. Still, it remains unmistakably a Mari Selvaraj work—one that revolves around his familiar yet powerful theme of caste-based oppression. His storytelling brilliance continues to shine, though this time the intensity and violence may feel overwhelming. It’s a film that parents might hesitate to take their children to. Mangoidiots gives it a Ripe.
Set in a Tamil Nadu village of the 1990s, the film follows Kittan, a young man from an oppressed community who grows up surrounded by injustice and hardship. Kabaddi is his passion and identity. Against immense odds, he earns his place in the Indian National Team for the Asian Games. The narrative captures the brutal and emotional struggles he endures on that path.
What makes Bison stand out is Dhruv’s complete physical and emotional transformation. His fitness and body language are remarkable, radiating stamina and power in every frame. His action sequences feel authentic and fierce. It’s a performance that would make his father, Vikram, proud. Where Dhruv can evolve further is in expressing gentler emotions—romance, affection, and vulnerability—to complement the intensity he already commands naturally.
Next to Dhruv, Pasupathy is the soul of the film. His portrayal of Kittan’s father is deeply moving. He embodies a man who loves his son dearly but carries the awareness of the violence and discrimination that define their surroundings. He is pragmatic, neither rigid nor fearful. The scene where he watches Kittan’s local kabaddi match, after initially refusing permission, stands out—his gradual change in expression captures pride, fear, and acceptance beautifully.
Rajisha Vijayan as Raji, Kittan’s sister, is outstanding. She is not only a sister but also a mother-like presence—firm, caring, and forward-thinking. Her affection is not bound by conservatism; she fully supports her brother’s dreams, including his love for an older woman. Her character brings emotional warmth and realism to the film. Anupama Parameswaran as Rani, the older love interest, fits her role well, though her limited screen time prevents her from leaving a stronger mark. Amir and Lal deliver credible performances as the local strongmen.
Several moments genuinely moved me. I shed tears when Kittan fails to make the national team and again when his father pleads with a police officer to spare his son’s future. Mari Selvaraj remains one of the few Tamil filmmakers capable of evoking such raw emotion from an audience. That said, given his immense talent, it would be interesting to see him explore other time periods or genres. His recurring focus on caste and political oppression has great purpose, but setting these stories only in the past risks turning them into historical cycles rather than living reflections. History and injustice must be told, yet doing so repeatedly in a single frame of time can blur the fine line between remembrance and unintentional glorification. Mari continues to walk that line carefully, but a new context could enrich his storytelling even more.
The music and background score by Nivas K. Prasanna support the emotional tone of the film and sustain its energy, though none of the songs linger strongly once you leave the theatre. Something fresher or more distinct might have elevated the musical experience. The film’s streaming partner is Netflix.
In the end, Bison Kaalamaadan is a sports drama told through the lens of caste struggle and social violence. It’s powerful, emotional, and intense. Watch it for its honest performances and moving story—but be prepared for the brutality it does not shy away from showing.