In the quiet city of Poongodi, Meenakshi and Soumya are two thriving sisters, living their lives by their own terms. A dreamy-eyed Aishwarya Rai as Meenakshi visualises her suitor to sweep her off her feet like a storm: “Puyal mari enaku oruthan varuvaan,” she exclaims as Tabu, who plays a mature Soumya moves waters by her own steady winds. Back in 1811, Elinor and Marianne Dashwood had set the precedent in navigating patriarchy and agency in 19th-century England in Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility. From Sussex to Poongodi, the eau de parfum of sisterhood travels across centuries and countries through Rajiv Menon’s romance, Kandukondain Kandukondain.
Patriarchy across generations
Why would a 19th-century English novel about genteel poverty and marriage appeal to Tamil audiences? The answer lies in a universal issue — patriarchy. Irwin Varughese, former assistant professor of Film and Literature at Madras Christian College and now an associate director, explains, “What aided Rajiv Menon was the universality of patriarchy as a problem. The key issue discussed by Jane Austen is financial independence.”
The Dashwoods being displaced because of a patriarchal will, directly mirrors the inheritance battles common among wealthy Chettiar families shown in the film. “Women in our societies have suffered under patriarchy. Society uses patriarchal tools like family, and the marriage system, to make women dependent on men,” says Irwin. The emotional and financial struggles of Soumya and Meenakshi weren’t unfamiliar — they were deeply relatable. Freelance content curator Meenakshi Girish, also an avid reader, notes that the film “takes the core struggles from the book and makes them immediate and relatable for Indian audiences — topics like career, tradition, and personal independence.”
Cultural translation
Forget basic retellings. Dr Meenakshi Bharat, a life member of the Association for British Scholars, highlights the groundbreaking nature of Kandukondain Kandukondain in Indian literary adaptations: “Before this, adaptation primarily meant a simple exercise of ‘representation’ that stays close to the original. Of course, even this representation could still be aesthetically pleasing and significant, but the adaptation element was generally limited to simple transference of the literary into the cinematic.”
This wasn’t about recreating bonnets and ballrooms. It was about bringing Austen’s sharp social insights into the specific hopes and anxieties of Tamil Nadu at the turn of the millennium. According to Dr Meenakshi, the director used Austen’s story as a starting point to “speak up for the ‘New Woman’ while also exhorting her to a new awakening.”
The film’s strength wasn’t just in finding shared themes but in skillfully adapting them for a local audience. Marianne’s piano was replaced with Aishwarya Rai’s Meenakshi’s training in Carnatic music. Marianne’s emotional nature was reimagined as Meenakshi’s love for Tamil literary greats like Bharathiyar. “Using Bharathiyar rooted the film in our culture, increasing its believability, credibility, and realism. Poetry is close to Tamilians’ hearts, so this resonated easily,” Irwin says.
Dr Meenakshi sees this as an important message. She explains, “The director seems to clearly indicate that modernisation and independence of spirit and action need not be a rejection of tradition. Rather, this tradition could become an ally. So, Aishwarya Rai’s character’s deep knowledge of Bharathiyar and Kannadasan is brought up to reveal how the new ideals can take wing from Tamil tradition. The Western canon is replaced by Tamil, not blindly but wilfully.”
The story’s backdrop also added a much-required depth. Austen’s genteel poverty became the painful displacement of a widow and her daughters from a grand Thanjavur home to modern Chennai. The film’s locations — from ancient temples to modern offices — served as commentaries on a society in transition. “The filmmaker makes astute use of the setting to comment on a rapidly changing ethos. He never implies a rejection of the past, of tradition. Rather, the persistence of tradition in the modern world in various ways is the most significant comment and direction that he gives,” she says.
Echoing this sentiment, Meenakshi Girish adds that the film/book’s setting aligns with classics released during the time like Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women and Austen’s other acclaimed novel, Pride and Prejudice. “Austen’s portrayal of close-knit families aligns with the joint family system that’s still prevalent in many parts of south India. You don’t often see that dynamic in many other Western novels, but it is strong here as it is in Little Women and Pride and Prejudice. A major part of that South Indian flavour also comes through the tension between arranged marriage and love marriage, and how romance is handled within social constraints,” she says.
Character sketch
Rai’s Meenakshi echoes Marianne’s emotional spirit, while Tabu’s Soumya reflects Elinor’s sensibility — but with a uniquely Indian layer: the internalised burden of always having to please others. Social media critic Rino, who writes for carpe_diem_movies on Instagram, notes, “Soumya is a poignant portrayal of a person suffering from a people-pleasing attitude, burdened by the label of being ‘unlucky’. She silently endures its impact. She is overcompensating for the stigma of being unlucky.”
Her growth — standing by Manohar (Ajith) while suppressing her own dreams, dealing with society’s judgement — ends not just in love but in finding herself. Rino says, “After a moment of intense doubt, she finally surrenders her self-doubt. It’s a moment of profound self-realisation, signalling her growth as a person.” Instead of accepting her sister’s ‘fate’, Rai’s Meenakshi directly questions it, notes Meenakshi Girish. “Why blame the woman? Why not consider that the guy was unstable or problematic? That kind of internal questioning within the film makes it feel intelligent and self-aware. The sisters don’t just contrast — they complement each other,” she adds.
The film also updated Austen’s idea of marriage as a woman’s primary goal. Dr Meenakshi explains, “In Austen’s world, marriage was an important way in which a woman found herself. In the modern world, especially in tradition-bound south India, carving an independent identity takes precedence over mere romantic interests. The ultimate fruition of romantic relationships take on strength and adds meaning from the assertion of newfound identities.”
Soumya finds her voice before finding love. Her sister fiercely pursues her music career. Their romantic relationships feel earned, growing out of their personal journeys rather than defining them.
Caste, class, and social standing
The film is clearly set in an affluent, upper-caste Chettiar environment — a choice that matters. Irwin explains, “Exclusively regarding the adaptation, depicting the characters, as Chettiar aided the process. In the Indian context, due to the caste system, people from the privileged communities have traditionally been well-off and wealthy. Depicting the widow and daughters as belonging to an upper-caste Chettiar family helped the adaptation — it paralleled the downfall of a wealthy family in Sense and Sensibility.”
Still, he points out, this reflects a common trend in Indian cinema — upper-caste characters are often portrayed as appealing. Dr Meenakshi adds a deeper view: “While the omission of the less privileged within this ambit may offer an unspoken comment on casteism in society, it is this omission itself that invites participation and tenders incentives to all viewers.”
Meenakshi Girish notes that she has mixed feelings about the idea of “honour” in the film and books — another poignant topic that plagues society till date. She says, “Austen is definitely socially conscious, and the idea of family dignity or legacy is central in her books. That also connects well with the South Indian context, where family reputation still plays a big role in decisions — especially regarding women and marriage.”
Why it still resonates
Despite its progressive leanings, the film introduces the lead characters in a bathing scene that sexualises taking the attention away from the emotional depth of the characters. Equally troubling is the portrayal of Lalitha (Anita Ratnam), the sister-in-law whose husband inherits the family home, who is villainised for her assertiveness.
Yet, Kandukondain Kandukondain continues to carry the petrichor of Poongodi to urban cities, where romantically-deprived individuals find solace in regency-era shows — A reason why Joe Wright’s adaptation Pride and Prejudice (2005) ran with packed houses even upon its re-release. The Konjum Mainaakkale singing Enge Enadhu Kavithai as a response to Enna Solla Pogirai in AR Rahman’s tunes continue to dominate the millennial and Gen-Z playlist; A dream casting for Rajiv Menon, an ace cinematographer himself with Ravi K Chandran’s visuals still impress. Most Importantly, Meenakshi Girish underlines, “The film explores a range of themes without being preachy: gender roles, economic pressure, shallow romantic ideals, class dynamics, family expectations, and even topics like literature and music — It’s all done with subtlety.” The movie gives audiences an experience most look out for in films and books, as Rino highlights it has “nuanced layers of self-worth, love, and emotional resilience, making this a film one that we could always get back to when feeling low.”