Rajinikanth’s swagger lights up the screen, and Soubin Shahir’s heart lends depth—but beneath the pan-Indian spectacle lies a story that feels emotionally muted.

Coolie Review: Rajinikanth’s Swagger and Soubin’s Soul Can't Hide the Hollow Heart of a Gritty Crime Saga

You settle into the theater with expectation coiling in your chest—Rajinikanth’s presence, star-studded cast, pulse-thumping music, and Lokesh Kanagaraj’s directorial DNA promising an unforgettable ride. And there are moments when that promise sparkles: a swaggering entry, a charged cameo, an electrifying dance with viral charisma. Yet as the dust settles, you're left with a lingering echo of what could’ve been.

There’s no denying the leads deliver. Rajinikanth strides through scenes with unmatched charisma—every eyebrow raise, every pause radiates command. Audiences online herald him as a “one-man show,” his return a vibrant gift to fans craving that vintage electric charm. Soubin Shahir, stepping into Tamil cinema for the first time, brings an authentic warmth and sincerity, grounding the chaos in quiet gravitas.

Supporting players bring flashes of brilliance. Shruti Haasan steals scenes, her presence described as the “main highlight” of the ensemble, while Nagarjuna’s villain role is hailed as the backbone of the story. And then there's Aamir Khan—brief, blistering, and incendiary, a cameo that lights up screens and hearts alike.

But when the layers peel back, the core feels lacking. The story meanders, conflicted between gritty ambition and bloated spectacle. Acts that start with urgency often dissolve into diffusion, leaving the narrative tension sagging despite show-stopping moments. What began as kinetic energy often halts into mid-chore, the emotional stakes blurred beneath the gloss.

For every pulse-raising sequence, another feels patched—scenes stretch past their emotional welcome, rhythm falters, cohesion slips. Early buzz applauded the thrills, the nostalgia, the mass appeal—but deeper in, critics and conversations on social platforms share unease: pacing dips, originality falters, and some fans even coined the weekend as a “#CoolieDisaster.”

Yet there’s an odd pride in the imperfection. The film roared into theaters during Independence Day weekend, and despite mixed reviews, bookings soared—one of the biggest openings in recent memory. Part of it is devotion; the larger part is the communal need for spectacle in uncertain times. Social media pulses with admiration, frustration, awe, and admiration again.

Emotionally, Coolie mirrors its characters: bristling, larger-than-life, full of flair and fight—but ultimately estranged from the emotional core that connects, uplifts, haunts. Watching it is a conflict of heart and hype. You cheer, you drift, you gasp—and when the lights come on, you realize it delivered fireworks, albeit without a beating pulse beneath.

Coolie fascinates and disappoints, dazzles and deflates, all in the same breath. It’s a star-studded carnival that sometimes loses its soul in the spectacle—a reminder that even the glitter of legends needs substance to truly shine.