Meesaya Murukku 2 review: Aadhi takes on gatekeepers

CHENNAI: Meesaya Murukku 2 is at its most interesting when it looks at what happens when talent meets a closed system. Set against the music industry, the film explores nepotism, access and the struggles of artists trying to break through without family connections or financial backing. At times, however, its message is so direct that the characters and story take a back seat.

The film opens in Royapuram, introducing us to the world of gaana artists and their everyday struggles. At the centre is Das (Hip Hop Tamizha Aadhi), a gaana singer and something of a godfather to the community. When Das, his wife Lakshmi (Chaithra J Achar) and his friends wait outside a recording studio after being invited by the son of a prominent music-label owner, they are confronted by a system that refuses to open its doors to people like them. Das compares the industry to a stadium where only a chosen few are allowed to race.

Das insists that technology will eventually break down these barriers and promises to keep fighting. As he makes this declaration, the title card appears to the late actor Vivek’s iconic voice, creating one of the film’s genuinely goosebumps-inducing moments.

The film then moves to the present, where Aadhi plays Jeeva, with dance master Baba Bhaskar as his father. Harshath Khan plays Jeeva’s friend and appears as Harshath in the film as well. Clearly aimed at a Gen Z audience, the narrative incorporates ideas such as cancel culture and online bullying. But the film is sometimes too eager to explain these concepts, making parts of it feel preachy.

Jeeva dreams of becoming a successful musician, and his father stands firmly behind him. The film tries to balance this struggle with humour, though not every joke lands. Its stronger moments come when it addresses the frustrations of aspiring artists and the advantages enjoyed by those born into influential film and music families. In one sequence, Jeeva calls a producer’s son a ‘nepo kid’, making the film’s frustration with nepotism explicit. At times, it feels less like a character expressing his frustration and more like Aadhi using Jeeva to voice his own grievances about the industry.

Yogi Babu and Vijay Varadharajan add to the humour. Vijay Varadharajan’s character speaks in a distinctly Tamil Brahmin dialect. While the comic treatment may work for some viewers, the portrayal could also be uncomfortable for members of the community.

The portions featuring Kethika Sharma provide some lighter moments, while the already popular ‘Aura 10/10’ is placed effectively. Towards the end of the first half, the film introduces a third version of Aadhi. Set in 1997, Tiger Shiva, played by Aadhi himself, leads an action sequence that takes the film to the interval. The second half brings in the present-day Das, played by Karunas, to narrate the flashback.

The film eventually reveals a story about three generations of musicians who have struggled against the same barriers. Das, the gaana singer of the previous generation, could not get the recognition he deserved because he lacked opportunities. His son Shiva, who performed in orchestras, also failed to make it big. Jeeva, the third generation, inherits their talent and unfinished dream.

This generational structure is one of the film’s more interesting ideas. Its central argument is that talent alone is not always enough when opportunities, training and exposure remain limited. Through Jeeva’s use of social media, the film explores how technology can give artists from overlooked backgrounds a platform to reach wider audiences.

The idea could particularly resonate with audiences from North Chennai, who have often been represented through narrow stereotypes in Tamil cinema. Meesaya Murukku 2 attempts to look beyond them and present a community with its own musical culture and talent, arguing that lack of opportunity, rather than lack of ability, can be the real obstacle.

However, the second half does not sustain the pace of the first. As the film progresses, its messaging becomes increasingly direct, while the gaana artists and their world gradually take a back seat. The film introduces an interesting setting but does not explore it as deeply as it could have.

The sequence involving Kethika Sharma’s Laila is another weak point. When Jeeva and another character propose to her, she says she is attracted to women to turn them down, leading into the ‘Vaanavile’ song sequence. The film later reveals that she had used the LGBTQ+ identity as an excuse to avoid the two men. The treatment comes across as insensitive, particularly because the joke uses a sexual identity as a convenient excuse.

Ultimately, Meesaya Murukku 2 has a strong idea at its core: talent can survive across generations, but without access and opportunity, recognition remains out of reach. Its attempt to take North Chennai’s musical culture beyond familiar stereotypes is also worthwhile. But the film does not trust its own story enough. The constant explaining, uneven humour, insensitive LGBTQ+ sequence and sluggish second half dilute what could have been a sharper film about talent, access and the changing music industry.