18 years of Karthi: The Vaa Vaathiyaar actor on his journey, staying grounded, and embracing every role, on and off screen

I have come a long way on my path to a career in engineering. Shifting from that to films was a major turn, but then I got the opportunity to work with Mr Mani Ratnam (as assistant director in Aayutha Ezhuthu). There were no formal lessons; just being on those sets, observing the best at work, was an education in itself. I was constantly absorbing everything—how they created and brought a scene to life.

And then, unexpectedly, I found myself in front of the camera. My preparation to become an actor was brief. I watched how Ameer sir (director of Paruthiveeran) made non-actors perform and how they used the camera to tell the story, sometimes without even using lights. Gradually, the idea of becoming an actor, of stepping into someone else’s shoes, began to take shape. That transformation, the process of letting go of your identity and completely immersing yourself into a character, was intoxicating. That’s when I realised, maybe this is what I should pursue.

Meiyazhagan didn’t have a great run in theatres. It found its audience later on OTT. Many people came back saying, “We missed it in theatres.” But Meiyazhagan is the kind of film where the joy is in the making itself. There was something uplifting about the entire process. It felt like we were ‘flying’ while creating it. Everyone on set gave their best, and there was an incredible synergy. And we were trying to encapsulate a journey of nearly 30 years; for those who’ve lived through their 30s or 40s, their childhoods, and their memories, all of that was distilled into the film. Be it the conversations, dreams, or the bonds, it felt like we were documenting contemporary human experience.

The true magic happened when people began to relate to it. You don’t expect results like that. You make a film because you believe in it, because you love the story. You may sense that people will enjoy it, but when someone hugs you and calls you ‘Meiyazhaga’, it’s sheer bliss. Some called the film a ‘therapy.’ Others said it was healing.

The script speaks to you first, including the characters and the moments that they engage you in all aspects. That’s the only real compass you have. Because how can anyone know what the audience wants? They span across ages and come from different backgrounds. All you can rely on is your gut. Moreover, audiences have evolved, and they are exposed to a lot of international content. The challenge to gauge the audience expectations is there for the entire cinema industry, not just me. It pushes cinema to grow.

But one thing that is clear is that regional culture cannot be reduced to a single narrative or perspective. Cinema reflects people’s lives, their languages, and their values. What has to evolve, though, is how we tell our stories. Take Mani Ratnam sir, for example. I grew up watching his films, and you can see how his portrayal of love has changed with time. His love stories reflect the society around him.

I used to say Naan Mahaan Alla earlier, but now I can say Meiyazhagan. I don’t know if I am that good a person, though (laughs). But the behaviour, not taking things too seriously—that’s something I relate to. The character has many layers, but at the core, it’s about keeping things simple and not complicating life.

Kaatru Veliyidai was incredibly challenging. Mani sir was exploring the character alongside the performance, and the writing kept evolving during the shoot. I was trying to understand what he envisioned. And then, presenting Vanthiyathevan was another level of challenge altogether. Think about it. Over 40 lakh people have read Ponniyin Selvan. Everyone has their own image of Vanthiyathevan in their mind. How do you portray a character who already lives so vividly in the imagination of so many people?

I didn’t approach it with the mindset of standing out. My biggest concern was not messing it up. I kept going back to the book, even though the screenplay didn’t cover every scene. I felt I needed to understand his entire arc to be able to present him truthfully. It was a huge responsibility. I also started reading more history, trying to understand because Vanthiyathevan is the only person that meets all the other characters in the story. So, his behaviour had to reflect that range.

Learn, improve, and invest in yourself. Because success and failure are momentary. What stays with you is the process, the effort you put in, and the dedication you showed. In this field, the highs and lows are extreme. If you let it affect you too deeply, it can pull you down fast. So, the best way is to stay grounded. Like Will Smith said, “One brick at a time.”

Athu eppovume thonum (laughs)! Any role of mine, I manage to find some flaw in it. But when you look back, especially at something you did at a younger age, you realise that that version of you was beautiful. We shouldn’t judge the past with the maturity we have today. If I gave my best that day, with what I knew and who I was, that’s enough. I’m happy with that.

Ayyayyo! That’s quite risky! I’m not someone who revisits my work often. But recently, I enjoyed watching Meiyazhagan. Sometimes, when certain scenes come up, like the interval block in Kaashmora, I thought, “Parava illaiye!” There are moments like that where you feel things worked. For example, the scene where Vanthiyathevan meets Kundavai. When I watch it, I feel it holds up. I guess that’s because I’m very self-critical by nature.

Vaa Vaathiyaar is Nalan’s (Kumarasamy) film, and that says a lot on its own — Nalan has a huge fan following. He brings some crazy ideas to the table, but it’s a commercial potboiler, in his style. Adding the element of MGR into the mix brought a huge responsibility for all of us involved. From what I read in the script to what Nalan was creating on screen, it was completely different. I was impressed by his vision.

As for Sardar 2, it’s a continuation of the first part, focusing on this Indian spy, but this time it’s much bigger. And with SJ Suryah sir coming into the picture, the conflict grows much stronger. The story tackles an important issue, much like Sardar. The film addresses a current and relatable topic.

It’s a period film set in the 1960s, and the story unfolds in Rameshwaram. The film is rich with human drama and a lot of gangster elements, but it’s rooted in that period. Back then, there were no cars, mostly horse-drawn carriages. If there was a car, it was a huge deal. In fact, Rameshwaram had only one car at the time. Everything had to be brought in from far away, usually by train. The culture was completely different. When you bring it to life on screen, you get a chance to discover a side of history you have never seen before. When I did Madras, I had a similar feeling. This film is like a deep dive into Tamil Nadu’s past.

Absolutely! The geography itself teaches you so much about the people, the place, and the times. There’s always some local delicacy that’s not common outside the area. It’s something only the locals know about, and it always surprises you when you try it. I usually go exploring local food. I tried poondu dosai, which was really good. Local food is always made fresh, and you get the authentic local flavour. When I was working in Meiyazhagan, after the night shoot, Arvind Swami sir and I would drive for three hours to have biriyani at 10.30am!

Since I run the Uzhavan Foundation, I try to do something for them. Farming is a massive responsibility and the least I can do is stand by them, help bring people together, and offer a little support." When I started the foundation, people said, “No one is representing us or speaking up for us.” I may not be directly addressing policymakers, but by being the face of the initiative, I’m trying to remind people about agriculture. I am gradually developing a connection with the community.

To feel that, you need to get your hands dirty! I don’t work that hard, but I at least try to think about them and understand their lives. Sometimes, I visit farming cooperative societies. I go and observe how they operate, how they support single mothers, and how the whole community survives. Seeing how micro-finance works and how they manage day-to-day life opens up a whole different perspective. You feel more blessed by the amount of love and support people give each other. It makes you realise how fortunate you are.

Both of us have completely different question papers! I do ask him about health, workout routines, and diets, as he is extremely disciplined. But even if he gives me ideas, me following them, I don’t know.

Naana? (laughs) He says things like, ‘Cut sugar’ or ‘Try not to eat anything after 7pm.’ He once told me that walking on an incline is effective, and I tried to do that. I enjoy working out outdoors. But on days when I am stuck indoors, I go for an incline treadmill walk. It’s not some huge fitness revelation, but small, useful tips that help.

I have always had a deep love for nature and wildlife. I think there’s no better way to explore it than through trekking. You can't experience nature the same way when you are in a jeep. One thing I’ve always wanted to do is take part in a forest census. They conduct animal censuses and often invite volunteers to join. It usually lasts about seven days, and the team camps deep inside the forest during that time. I haven’t done it yet, but it’s something I want to experience.

I spend time with my kids. I enjoy farms, music, movies, good food, and long drives. I’ve started reading. Earlier, whenever I tried to read, I would fall asleep. But now, I actually read a bit.

There’s nothing like that. It’s just that when I’m with kids, I’m a little protective of them. I don’t want their pictures to be out. Sometimes people say, “Sir, you don’t like taking photos, right?” That’s not true. If you ask, I’m happy to pose with you. But when kids are involved, I usually apologise and say sorry because I want to protect their privacy.

They’re still very young, but yes, they watch the songs. They did watch Ponniyin Selvan.

People are extremely sensitive, so you need to be mindful. But at the very least, you should have the courage to say what you feel is right. That doesn’t mean jumping into every situation or passing comments unnecessarily. But if you know about something and you think it will help someone, you should speak up. If there’s backlash, you shouldn’t pay attention to the comments.

See, when you step out, people don’t boo or scorn you. They are kind; they come up and take pictures. So why bother looking at comments? I think we should learn to stay away from certain things, and in doing so, we’ll find a lot more peace.

Deepavali is mostly spent at home with our cousins. We invite everyone over, enjoy some good food, and spend quality time together.

Vanthiyathevan! I love that period and history.

Nalla kathai vantha pannuvom (If we get a good story, we will).

I like action!

I don’t look anything like a white man. So, if I’m cast, it’ll be as an Indian. That’s what I’d bring, my own take. I can’t exactly play Tom Cruise’s younger brother, right? On that note, I am a big fan of Jack Nicholson.

No, I get completely immersed in the scene. I focus only on that and nothing else.

Enga Athaan irukkaru! Arvind Swami sir is great to have conversations with. He’s a lot of fun and always introduces you to new things. He’s fantastic company. He teases you a lot, and you just have to take it in your stride. He’s well-travelled, experienced, and has great taste in music, food, clothes—everything. Going somewhere with him would be interesting. I have told him so many times, “Let’s go somewhere, sir.” But I still haven’t gone anywhere yet.

No, I have never done that. But I keep practising my scenes. Sometimes my wife will suddenly ask, “What are you doing?” and I’ll be enacting the scene I had just shot. I don’t rehearse for awards, but I do replay the scene in my head and act it out multiple times after it’s been shot!

I could’ve gone into engineering like most of my friends did. All my classmates are in the US now, working at places like Google and PayPal. I could have taken that path too. But even if I had, I think I’d still be chasing my luck in cinema. Maybe I wouldn’t even be married-just out there, still pushing, fighting, sulking, not giving up. Sometimes, you find what you love, and once you do, you want to pursue it, no matter what.

Ithellam overa irukkunga. Please don’t make a movie about me. There are so many great people out there. I’m not worth it.

Dancing! I haven’t mastered it, either on screen or in real life. But I genuinely enjoy it. The problem is, I don’t choreograph those steps and I can’t pull off the kind of steps the master expects me to. So, I end up putting in a lot of effort just to keep up.

He’s good at teasing me and always knows how to pull my leg. I’ve been trying to do the same for years but haven’t had much luck. I’d love to see him get caught out by anni (Jyotika).

I am wondering whom I’d fight against. For starters, I don’t own a lorry, so I can’t drive one. And there would be no biriyani! I wouldn’t even have guns to fight with. You have put me in a very difficult spot (laughs). I think it’d be a struggle, as none of my Kaithi skills would help much. Maybe I could fight a bit, but if someone asked me to join their army, I’d probably do it for the food.

I don’t really have a ‘song for life.’ I usually cite an Ilaiyaraaja number, but I want to mention a different song for a change. I like When you say nothing at all by Ronan Keating. This is the kind of song you want to listen to when you’re alone or just feeling good. I first heard it in Notting Hill, and it stayed with me.