Towards the third act of Amaran, Major Mukund (Sivakarthikeyan)’s father asks him, “Why is Kashmir always in trouble?" This is a crucial moment, though it is shot with a matter-of-fact tone — reflecting the overall style of the movie. It is significant because it is the only time we gain insight into Mukund’s opinion about the politics behind the bloodshed and violence in one of the most volatile regions of the country. It’s essential to understand what a soldier thinks about the politics that have placed him in a situation where his own life is at risk.

The situation isn’t entirely new for a Tamil film: a Tamil man, Mukund (Sivakarthikeyan), enters a Malayali household to seek the hand of their daughter, Indhu (Sai Pallavi). In Tamil cinema lore, such scenes often signal trouble. In Autograph, Cheran’s character faces a quick rejection, a violent ejection. In Vinnaithaandi Varuvaayaa, Simbu’s character meets a similar fate. But in Amaran, the hero cannot be quickly insulted or rejected, for Mukund arrives cloaked in the authority of an army uniform, a symbol that tempers resistance with respect. Where once Indhu’s father opposed the relationship, now he’s disarmed by the unspoken reverence for a man in uniform. This scene is restrained, absent of cinematic exaggeration; instead, director Rajkumar Periasamy allows these moments to revel in soft, unspoken gestures, where relationships get organically forged.

In one of the many interesting segues in Rajkumar Periasamy’s Amaran, an officer talks to Major Mukund Varadarajan (an earnest Sivakarthikeyan) about the Kashimir women these officers refer to as “half widows”, stuck in perennial conflict as they wait for their husbands to return, unsure if they’re still alive. This is explained in a rush, as though someone is reading aloud a Wikipedia entry, but one can still make a connection between these women and the film’s narrator,

“When the guns roar, the arts die,” said celebrated playwright Arthur Miller. Many art masterpieces have been swallowed up by wars but art, like the ever-forgiving land that has caused countless battles, has withstood it all. It has been the blank canvas to paint everything from propaganda films to anti-war movies. While many of them resort to skewed agendas, director Rajkumar Periasamy takes the road less travelled with Amaran, and along with producer Kamal Haasan and powerhouse performances from Sivakarthikeyan and Sai Pallavi, the filmmaker delivers an evocative biopic of Major Mukund Varadarajan.

Gentleman cadet Mukund Varadarajan is marching along with his batchmates during his passing out parade. During this march, an animated Indhu Rebecca Varghese shouts out the name of the love of her life. She also runs around to catch a glimpse of Mukund, who is one among the soldiers passing out. GV Prakash Kumar’s rousing score primes the scene for a romantic high. She is jubilant, happy, ecstatic, and sports a smile that reaches her eyes as Mukund marches with a straight face.

Amaran is based on the life of Major Mukund Varadarajan, who died during an anti-terror operation in Jammu and Kashmir in 2014. Biopics like this come with a unique challenge: since audiences already know the outcome, there’s little room for surprises. Directors often leverage the emotional depth of such stories to create resonance, sometimes stirring complex emotions or evoking our deepest fears. Filmmaker Rajkumar Periasamy, as expected, focuses on these emotional elements, ultimately leaving the audience with a deeper understanding of the human conflict hidden beneath layers of turmoil.