Vijay’s politics began at box office, but will it click at ballot?

E-PaperSubscribeSubscribeEnjoy unlimited accessSubscribe Now! Get features like On April 21, the last day of campaigning for the Tamil Nadu assembly election, actor “Thalabathi” Vijay gave an emotional speech before thousands of people gathered at the YMCA grounds in Chennai: campaigning for his two-year-old Tamilaga Vettri Kazhagam (TVK) party, which has turned turn the election into a three-way contest, he told his adoring fans who had come in droves to hear him: “You can trust your Vijay 100 %.” Vijay’s politics began at box office, but will it click at ballot?After three decades of acting in a leading role in 68 films, most of them blockbusters, Joseph Vijay Chandrasker is hoping to emulate the late M G Ramachandran or MGR and parlay his on-screen persona to translate into real-world political magic. MGR, who founded the AIADMK was the first to leverage his films to build an ideological and emotional connection with the masses. M. Karunanidhi, of the DMK demonstrated how sharply crafted dialogues could carry ideological weight, and turned cinema into a powerful vehicle for political messaging long before the actor ever stepped into office. His political rival, J. Jayalalithaa (MGR’s heroine in many movies and his political heir)  translated her on-screen authority and charisma into a commanding political presence that resonated deeply with the electorate. Over the past few weeks, he has taken digs at both the ruling Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK) as well as the National Democratic Alliance opposition led by All India Anna Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (AIADMK). He has referred to the DMK as a “political enemy” and the Bharatiya Janata Party, the AIADMK’s ally, as his “ideological and policy enemy”. He has also promised a slew of welfare measures if he comes to power. Vijay’s strong emotional connect with the youth, who throng his films (and political rallies), makes him someone the DMK and AIDMK  cannot afford to ignore. But what do his films tell us about him? Because his cinematic journey suggests that this political turn is not a sudden twist, but a long, carefully scripted plan. The son of director S.A.Chandrasekhar, Vijay’s initial foray into films was rooted in romance and family dramas where he played the chocolate boy. Movies such as Kathalukku Mariyathai (1997, directed by Fazil), Thullatha Manam Thullum (1999, directed by S. Ezhil) positioned him as the boy next door, an endearing figure defined by sacrifice, deep-rooted emotional sincerity and empathy. There were no political narratives in any of those 90s films, but they had an important function. They built “trust”. By playing relatable characters, he harvested emotional capital. The real pivot came in the first decade of the 2000s, when Vijay transitioned into action or mass roles as the film industry refers to them. He played a young do-gooder lawyer in 2002’s Thamizan (directed by Abdul Majidh), and successfully rebranded himself as a mass hero, albeit with a soft side, in films such as Gilli (2004, directed by Dharani) and Pokiri (2007, directed by Prabhu Deva). He went after the baddies, did not follow all the rules, but ensured that good always triumphed over evil. The films were meant to be commercial entertainers, and seldom displayed faith in formal institutions. Vijay, the hero, delivered justice where traditional institutions did not, and this may have resonated deeply with a society tired of bureaucratic flab and political inefficiency. Around 2011, after the assembly elections won by the AIADMK, Vijay’s cinematic oeuvre adopted a distinctively political turn. Directors such as A.R. Murugadoss, who made films like Thuppakki (2012) and Kaththi (2014) moved to what could be called ground issue-based narratives. Kaththi addressed the issue of agrarian distress and the corporate (particularly, multinational) exploitation of natural resources. In Kaththi, Marxism does not arrive as a dialectical theory but as a tiffin. When Vijay frames even a single extra idli one has after their stomach is full as belonging to someone else, the dialogue tailor-made for him shifts the conversation from price to entitlement, translating class conflict into a moral instinct . Mersal (2017, directed by Atlee) offered a sharp critique of the health care system and its growing commercialisation, with Vijay in a triple role, most notably as a doctor who treats the poor for just ₹5, symbolising an alternative ethic of care, against for-profit medicine. Sarkar (2018, A.R. Murugadoss) presciently featured Vijay as Sundar, a tech CEO who returns to India only to find his own name missing from the electoral rolls, prompting him to challenge the system and, in the process, take on electoral malpractices while asserting the rights of disenfranchised voters. The films did more than entertain; they converted complex policy issues into emotionally charged binaries. Vijay played characters who were not simply the hero but reformists with zeal. His character spoke to the audience directly about their rights and duties, governance and holding power accountable. Punch lines such as oru viral puratchi (one finger revolution), were specifically embedded and sounded more like political slogans. The protagonist was the bridge between the people and systemic change. His heroes were spokespersons of the common man; his movies invoked themes of social justice, welfare and anti-corruption; his idiom was populist and rooted in Dravidian culture. In the context of Tamil Nadu, stars, particularly those with political dreams, are essentially characters who are vessels of ideological certitude. As Vijay’s films gradually began to project him as a leader — someone who not only understood the ills of society but was capable of solving them — the audience saw his persona change over time. In both Mersal and Sarkar, the political undertones were no longer subtle. The framing of his characters and the rhetoric they spouted pointed to a concentrated effort to consolidate his image. The difference between the actor and the potential leader started to blur. May 4 will tell how successful that gambit has been A closer look at Vijay’s top 20 films rated on IMDb reveals a striking pattern. Nearly 70% (14 out of 20) of his highest-rated films belong to the 1990s and early 2000s, dominated by romance and family drama such as Poove Unakkaga (1996,Vikraman), Kadhalukku Mariyadhai (1997, Fazil) and Kushi (2000, S.J.Suryah). In fact, over 60% of these films are primarily romantic or have relationship-driven narratives, with little to no explicit political content. By contrast, films with overt political or social messaging such as Thuppakki, Kaththi and Mersal account for only 15% (3 out of 20) of the list. Even within the broader action genre, which makes up roughly 25%, the earlier entries tend to focus on personal conflict rather than systemic critique. The numbers suggest a clear trajectory. Vijay’s strongest audience resonance was initially built on emotional and relational storytelling, while his political voice emerged later, layered onto an already accepted star persona. In other words, the foundation of his political capital may lie less in ideology and more in effect. There are limits to what cinema can achieve. Vijay’s films rely on simplified binaries like good versus bad, the individual versus the system. Solutions mostly centre on individual heroism rather than institutional reform. Translating this narrative logic into a popularly accepted governance idea by the voting public is obviously going to be a challenge. This tension becomes even more apparent in Vijay’s recurring portrayal of armed personnel or an intelligence person where the officer through his individual heroism emerges as the guarantor of nationalistic integrity, often operating above political authority, in films like Thuppaki and Beast (2021, directed by Nelson Dilipkumar). But, terror is not the only thing Vijay’s characters must overcome. Rumor has it that Jana Nayagan, directed by H Vinoth, was Vijay’s attempt to position himself as a modern ideological heir to MGR. In the film — whose release was stayed by the Madras high court in January, but whose high definition print was leaked earlier month — Vijay’s character must fight against a self-serving political class that is inept or is willing to exploit the nation for the sake of power. The narrative then elevates the hero in a uniform as somebody who is incorruptible in contrast to the compromised evil politician, thereby going on to collapse complex civil-military dynamics again into simple binaries. While this could be effective in cinema, such framing oversimplifies governance reality, where diplomacy and political accountability are deeply intertwined. Vijay’s entry into politics is not a sudden shift but a carefully shaped on screen journey from the empathetic boy-next-door the 1990s to the reform-driven hero in Sarkar and Kaththi. His cinema has steadily constructed a political persona centered around governance and justice for the common man. As Tamil Nadu watches his next move, one thing is clear: Vijay’s political journey did not begin with just a party launch or a provocative speech. It began on screen, in stories that gradually converted the hero into a leader. After years of carefully constructing his persona in films layered with political symbolism, the real test is whether those scripted moments of box office can organically translate into unscripted votes at the ballot box. To paraphrase his popular and memeified quote from the 2012 film, Thuppakki, we are waiting.