Vijayakanth Honoured in 4K Re-release of Captain Prabhakaran

Chennai, August 23: The lights dimmed, the screen lit up, and there he was Vijayakanth, larger than life, storming through the forests of Captain Prabhakaran like time had never touched him. On August 22, theatres across Tamil Nadu echoed with applause and tears as the actor’s 100th film made a comeback in gleaming 4K. But what started as a tribute quickly turned into something more complicated a whirlwind of grief, legacy, and political posturing.

A Son’s Tears, A Family’s Grief

At one Chennai screening, Shanmuga Pandian sat quietly in the dark. Then the floodgates opened. “I cried watching my father,” he told Cinema Express. There was no hiding the weight in his voice. This wasn’t just about cinema it was personal, gutting.

They hadn’t seen him like this in years. Not the man on ventilators, not the quiet figure lost to illness but the Captain. Bold, commanding, defiant. “They’ve shown him very beautifully,” Shanmuga added. The sentence lingered.

Inside another hall, Premalatha Vijayakanth watched the same film, surrounded by family. She too broke down. “It felt like he was still with us,” she told Daily Thanthi, holding back tears. The theatre went quiet during the final scenes a silence that felt heavier than the loudest applause.

Across the state, it was the same. Older fans saluted the screen. Younger ones stood in line with garlands. Some even brought photos. Captain Prabhakaran wasn’t just a re-release. It was a resurrection. One that reminded Tamil Nadu just how much it had lost.

Then Came The “Anna” Remark

While fans were busy grieving and celebrating, a single word sparked a fire elsewhere. At a recent TVK political conference, actor-turned-politician Vijay referred to Vijayakanth as “Anna” older brother.

To many, it sounded respectful. To others, especially within the DMDK, it hit differently.

Premalatha didn’t hold back. “Only a Captain can match Captain,” she shot back, speaking to Daily Thanthi. The message was unmistakable: don’t try to borrow his shine. “No one else can come close.” A line drawn not in the sand, but in stone.

Some in political circles saw Vijay’s remark as a calculated move a bid to align himself with a legacy that still commands deep emotional capital in Tamil Nadu. But if that was the plan, it backfired quickly.

Seeman Isn’t Buying It

And then there was Seeman. Never one to hold his tongue, the Naam Tamilar Katchi leader went straight for the jugular.

“Did Vijay ever visit Vijayakanth when he was alive?” he asked during a press meet, eyebrows raised, tone unmistakably sharp. The room fell quiet.

As reported by Polimer News, Seeman accused Vijay of name-dropping leaders like MGR, Kamarajar, and now Vijayakanth not out of respect but convenience. “Where was he when Captain needed a friend?” he pressed.

It’s a fair question. While there’s no confirmed record of Vijay visiting Vijayakanth during his long illness, the sudden public embrace has led to murmurs. Was it nostalgia? Or narrative-building?

What’s Really At Stake Here?

This isn’t just about one movie, one tribute, or one comment. It’s about legacy politics a staple in Tamil Nadu, where cinema and power have always danced together.

Vijayakanth, for all his on-screen bravado, carved a unique space off-screen too. He didn’t come from the traditional Dravidian stock. Yet, with the DMDK, he disrupted the state’s political rhythms, at least for a while. At his peak, he was seen as a genuine third force a wildcard who didn’t bow to either the DMK or AIADMK.

Now, nearly two years after his death, his name still carries weight. And that weight is exactly what today’s politicians are eyeing.

Premalatha’s response wasn’t just a grieving widow’s pride it was strategy. She knows what Vijayakanth means to thousands of working-class voters. To them, he was never just an actor or a politician. He was a protector, a people’s man, someone who didn’t play caste games or court corporate cash.

By pushing back against Vijay’s “Anna” comment, she’s doing more than defending her husband’s memory. She’s guarding what little remains of the DMDK’s relevance.

But The Crowd? They Just Miss The Man

At the theatres, none of this mattered. Politics faded the moment Vijayakanth lit a cigar or barked an order. For two and a half hours, people were back in the ’90s. The world outside the factionalism, the claims and counterclaims it could wait.

In the end, that’s the magic of cinema. It rewinds grief. It restores heroes.

But in Tamil Nadu, it also reopens wounds political, personal, and everything in between.

Stay ahead with Hindustan Herald — bringing you trusted news, sharp analysis, and stories that matter across Politics, Business, Technology, Sports, Entertainment, Lifestyle, and more.
Connect with us on Facebook, Instagram, X (Twitter), LinkedIn, YouTube, and join our Telegram community @hindustanherald for real-time updates.

Ayesha Khan

Entertainment Correspondent – [email protected] – Web

Covers films, television, streaming, and celebrity culture with a focus on storytelling trends.

Breaking