TIFF 2026: ‘Dorothy’ Review
Always juggling a love of cinema within visually striking genre exercises, Tamil writer-director Karthik Subbaraj constantly finds new ways to approach familiar material. It’s the act of pushing against boundaries that makes his films exciting, treading comfortably between reference and reverence while still carving out his own distinct style. Another genre-bending experience from Subbaraj, Dorothy looks back to the 1990s with a critical eye towards its patriarchal society. A blunt movie about the perpetuation of violence within both popular culture and society as a whole, his latest film confronts gender oppression through the eyes of two inseparable friends growing up in a world powered by fear.
Edited brilliantly at a breakneck pace, Dorothy wastes little time throwing audiences into the rhythms of its world. Joined together by the hip after meeting in their youth, Karthi and Subbu find themselves funnelled into a world of violence as they grow older. Expertly montaged to cover the pivotal moments from childhood that shaped who they would become as adults, Subbaraj’s screenplay opens with a foreshadowing of pain to come before forging a strong bromance that anchors the film’s twists and turns. As the two grow up on an unhealthy diet of pop culture, surrounded by toxic masculinity in rural Tamil Nadu, Karthi and Subbu (played by Rishikanth and Sananth, respectively) emulate the gangsters they’ve seen in movies and in real life once they become adults.
The world that they walk in is one ruled by an iron fist. The men of the village are wary of outsiders and punish those who threaten the status quo of their caste. At the head of it all is Veeraiya (Muthukumar), whose menacing whistles echo throughout Subbaraj’s film and bleed into the infectious score by the prolific composer Ilaiyaraaja—who has scored nearly 1000 films over his career. The music is integral to Dorothy's rhythms, but that recurring whistle shifts from cute affect to threatening as the characters slowly understand what happens in a society run by toxic masculinity. The women in the village are constantly walking a fine line around every man they encounter, as even the slightest disrespect can have deadly consequences.
Dorothy is direct in what it’s trying to say; however, most audiences will be surprised to see what the film is actually investigating in its world of machismo. When Subbu begins forming a strong relationship with the titular Dorothy (Keerthy Suresh)—who has married one of Subbu’s many brothers—his affection is perceived as a threat to the insular community crafted by Veeraiya. The arrival of Dorothy brings with it a cycle of violence that has maintained the male-dominated world that Subbu has never seen outside of. It also forces Subbu to confront a reality he can no longer ignore. Dorothy is a very long movie, but it never feels like it until much later, because even when the characters have been hollowed out by violence, the film keeps escalating toward an understanding of their motivations.
Dorothy is the lynchpin in unravelling the film, but in a way that feels too heavy-handed not to be a little jarring. The main friction with enjoying Dorothy is that it is unrelentingly bleak to the point where everything feeds into that pervasive darkness. The violence against women starts off as an afterthought in Karthi and Subbu’s worlds before becoming the only thing Subbu sees. Much of the film is presented through his eyes, and as it starts wrestling with topics that feel a little beyond its reach, there’s no denying the film’s tone begins shifting into a new reality. The swagger and stylistic flourishes that make Dorothy a brisk watch are indebted to decades of gangster cinema; what Subbaraj presents after is a crack in the facade. How that reverberates through Subbu’s home and life is one thing; how it threatens his relationship with Karthi is where Dorothy settles with less tact but more heart.
The bromance that becomes the centrepiece of Subbaraj’s latest is the screenplay’s strongest element, thanks to compelling chemistry between Rishikanth and Sananth. Scenes in which they share food or try to empathize with one another give the film a heartbeat it struggles to maintain once the two are forced to confront themselves and the violent world they’ve not only grown up in but actively helped maintain. Outside of their relationship are the men in their lives who have fostered an unhealthy view of outsiders, otherness, and women in general. I wish the twist in the film felt more earnestly earned so the external forces shaping Karthi and Subbu could be reckoned with more strongly, but most of the change in the film depends on the two childhood friends’ unbreakable bond. In that regard, it succeeds.
Still, even with its clumsy handling of sensitive material and brutal approach to its themes, Dorothy glides with an energy typical of Subbaraj’s films. It’s a film that uses the language of a gangster movie within the framework of a forbidden romance, and the gamble mostly works even when the film is at its most pointed. Karthi and Subbu’s relationship is the bedrock of Dorothy, but it doesn’t forgive the fact that the film can’t quite marry its two disparate selves. Instead, it impresses stylistically, having built such a sturdy foundation with its two protagonists that even its awkward handling of a meaningful conversation can still be salvaged in the end.
The 51st Toronto International Film Festival takes place between September 10th and 20th. Dorothy celebrates its World premiere on September 11th as part of TIFF’s Centrepiece program. You can find the full list of films selected for the festival here.
