One of the few things that I did consistently in my childhood was to watch “Metti oli” - a Tamil serial (soap opera) that ran for about 3 years. Everybody I knew watched it. The storyline revolved around the dramas in the everyday lives of five sisters and the families they were married to. It was somewhat different from the other soaps of that time, in that it didn't have a proper villain or a sadistic mother-in-law who rejoiced to be evil. Instead, the antagonists were just regular people who were unkind or downright nasty. They didn’t plot to hurt others. They didn’t have to. They just did that on the go.

It felt like the director himself struggled between viewing the antagonists as truly bad people abusing their families versus seeing them as just a nuisance that comes with the package a family is. He would have a series of episodes showing how their casual, insensitive, and hurtful comments would cause so much suffering to others. He would then punctuate it with episodes wherein someone in the family gets in serious trouble and the entire family, including these antagonists, dramatically come together to truly offer love and support to the one in distress. He is like "See, after all, they are not bad people!"

He, either wittingly or unwittingly, somewhat tried to normalize or even justify the antagonists' disposition. For instance, Rajam, the mother-in-law of one of the five sisters, was one of the popular antagonists in the series. She had had a difficult life. After losing her husband at a young age, she had single-handedly raised her three children amidst severe financial struggles. Life's experiences had made her bitter, and now, she is rightfully taking that bitterness out on others. She often throws a tantrum and hurls insults at her children, or their spouses and in-laws. Sure enough, in the middle of her tantrums, she reminds everybody of the sacrifices she had to endure to raise her children. Not only do others silently receive her abuse, but they even stoop to apologize and calm her down. Except for her younger son, Selvam, nobody even shows resistance to her abuses, let alone standing up to them. Thinking back, I sometimes hear the director saying "She earned it, bro!"

Though now and then, stories like Metti Oli normalize or justify unkindness, they at least don't make it look cool and inspiring. After all, Rajam was still one of the antagonists and not the hero. That credit goes to movies like "Irudhi sutru" and "Soorarai potru".

“Irudhi Sutru” is the story of Madhavan, a yesteryear boxer who had failed to reach the heights of professional glory that he deserved because he didn't suck up to his higher-ups. Now a renowned boxing coach, he spots raw boxing talent in Rithika, a fisherwoman. He goes to great lengths to make a world champion out of her. A noble goal for sure. Noble enough to justify being nasty to virtually all other characters in the movie.

Here is the scene where he meets Nasser, his assistant coach, for the first time:

Nasser (with a broad smile): "Hi, sir. I am Pandian. Assistant coach."
Madhavan, (with sheer contempt): "I can tell you by looking at your face. You will always remain an assistant coach."

Throughout its length, the movie subtly keeps hinting that talent, honesty, and kindness don't go together. If you are a talented person, with integrity you can't help but be arrogant. Kindness, politeness, and common courtesy are something that simpletons use to cover up their inabilities.

Here is him telling one of his boxers after she lost a game that she is fit only to wash clothes at home.

Nasser requests him to be kind to the students after he whacks Rithika with a rope for not following his instructions. His response: "If I don't correct them, they will end up cleaning toilets like you."

Madhavan continues to go to great lengths - selling his bike and spending his savings to provide the best possible training and nutrition for Rithika. Nasser, who has been witnessing all these acts of his generosity, and sacrifices, himself tells Madhavan - "You are a good man, Sir."

In the end, Rithika wins gold for India in the world championship, and that justifies everything Madhavan had done thus far. While taking her to the top, he crushed the confidence of some of his other students or assistants and made them feel worthless. So what? He brought gold to the country and has given a star to the boxing world. That's all that matters. Who even has the time to talk about hurting the feelings of some small-time boxers and an aging assistant coach?

At least in "Irudhi Sutru", the hero is equally arrogant to everybody. He treats his higher-ups the same way he treats his assistant coach or students. But that's not the case in "Soorarai potru" - the story of Suriya, a man from a humble background, establishing a low-cost airline business against seemingly insurmountable obstacles.

After all, for most of the movie, Suriya runs around asking others to fund his airline business. He can't afford to be arrogant to everyone. Nevertheless, he chooses to be so with his friends, family, and investors who had turned him down.

He makes business decisions without consulting his business partners, who are also his friends. When they question it, he doesn't even stop to explain. He keeps walking with his chest and chin up. His friends run behind to keep up with him and hear his response.

Urvashi, Suriya's mom, even takes a little pride, in passing, while mentioning her son's arrogance. Maybe she thinks his arrogance, and others' willingness to put up with it, is proof that his son is worth his salt.

If only she had seen him asking investors for money with warmth and respect in his eyes, a smile on his face, frequent "sirs" in his sentences, and a forward tilt in his posture, she may have wondered "So, you ARE capable of projecting confidence without being arrogant!"

We may say we like to be authentic to the people we are close to. We don't talk to strangers the same way we talk to our families. Well, if our authentic side is ugly, maybe we should focus on fixing the ugly rather than dressing it up as authenticity. True, we don't wear a suit at home. Neither should we be naked.

It is the man who strives to be kind, and empathetic despite his talents, noble pursuits, hardships, failures, and successes that ought to be inspiring. Not the man-child who uses the same as a license to be nasty.