
Okay, film folks, strap yourselves in. We’re diving into a movie that’s shaken the box office and sparked some big-time debate: Retro. If you’ve seen it all when it comes to blockbusters, you might want to think again. Retro is no ordinary action film it’s an epic, emotionally layered ride through memory, music, and war, all served up in a sense-busting 1980s aesthetic. S. directed. J. Sinu and featuring Anson Paul and Tamil actor Priya Prakash Varrier, this Malayalam stunner is more than a looker a full-on experience.
Here’s how it adds up.

1. A Love Letter to the ’90s
Retro will kill you dead in the feels if you grew up during the 1990s. It captures the feel of the decade so well that you’ll be catching whiffs of schoolbooks and hearing dial-up internet in your head. The film’s cinematography is drenched in golden hues and soft light, so much so that it feels like a golden-hour memory.
The design of production also receives well-deserved praise. You see cassette tapes, rusty lunch boxes, old TV sets, and school uniforms that’ll trigger instant recognition. Even the dialogue is uttered as if it’s an expletive excised from a living room in the family home during the time.
But nostalgia isn’t actually about sets and props it’s about emotion. And this film understands. Whether you’re reliving the thrill of riding a country road on a bike or the mortification of having a high school crush, Retro places you there and lets you linger.

2. The War Through a Child’s Eyes
One of the strongest choices this movie makes is to show the war from Lenin’s perspective. He’s only a kid when the world starts disintegrating around him, so the violence and anarchy are that much more terrifying.
Instead of setting us in the midst of combat scenes, the film builds slowly towards tension. You feel it in silent aside, sudden silences, and nervous glances between grown-ups. There’s one particularly gut-punching moment when Lenin has an epiphany that his buddy won’t return to school not because he up and left, but because of what’s happening beyond the confines of the classroom.
This subtle approach has the grand moments when they come hit all the harder. The film trusts you to have the effect without needing to be instructed on what to feel.

3. A Cast That Feels Like Real People
Anthony Kamalathasan, the older Lenin, brings this huge level of restraint to the character. He does not play Lenin as a hero or a victim, but rather a man still grieving for what he witnessed as a child. His eyes say so much of it.
And young Lenin himself, the casting was ideal. The kid has this fretful curiosity that you’re already rooting for him from the start. He’s not too cute or too smart just an ordinary kid attempting to navigate a world that always seems to shift.
And the supporting characters lived as well. Whether Lenin’s strict father, his gentle mother, or his mischief-maker friends, they all have something real and believable to add to the story. You care about them. You worry about them.

4. A Director Who Knows When to Hold Back
Kamal K.M., the co-writer and director of the film, makes a wonderful many sensible choices here. He does not rush up the story. He steers clear of tawdry emotional manipulation. He lets the scenes breathe instead.
There is beautiful quietness to some parts of the film those moments where the camera just stays on someone’s face, or on a deserted street, or on a crumpled letter. These pauses allow for the audience to sit in the sensation instead of being buffeted between bits of drama.
While the tempo never lags, the movie juxtaposes these moments of quiet with bursts of energy be it a joke in school, a fight with the family, or a thumping sprint.

5. Themes That Stay With You
This is not a coming-of-age movie or a war movie. This is a movie about memory, trauma, and the way that the past lingers on us. Even as Lenin matures and tries to put it behind him, the spirits of his childhood keep coming back to him sometimes in dreams, sometimes in a burst of music or the smell of something.
There is one scene close to the end of the movie where Lenin goes back to his old school that is empty. He walks through the empty corridors and we can hear the children’s voices from the past laughing, screaming, reading. It is a haunting, beautiful reminder that places remember us, even when we are attempting to forget them.
The movie also explores forgiveness not big and dramatic, but the daily choices we make. Can you forgive a parent who attempted but did not succeed? A friend who disappeared without finishing? Yourself?

6. Why It’s Connecting with So Many People
Retro doesn’t sound like it was written to get awards or follow trends. It sounds like something that was written out of love by people who had to tell something important to them. And maybe that’s the reason why it’s speaking so profoundly.
The acting is grounded. The narrative is straightforward. The emotions are real. None of it is done for effect or is exaggerated, and that’s not a common sight in the world today.
It’s also very human of a film. Even if you weren’t a kid during wartime, even if you’ve never been to Sri Lanka, you’ll recognize the feelings: fear, hope, confusion, love. That’s the power of good filmmaking it makes something specific resonate universally.

7. How Music Brings Everything Together
A lot of the reason that Retro is so emotionally affecting lies within its soundtrack. The music isn’t being utilized in an attempt to manipulate you it’s there to drive the narrative. Some times it’s a soft hum, almost a lullaby. Other times it explodes into the foreground, keeping up with the escalating tension or the barrage of recollections.
One of the standout moments is when Lenin hears a song he recalls hearing as a child being played over the radio. It’s a subdued reaction, but you get a sense of a wave of feeling wash over him. That’s what music in Retro does opens doors to days long gone.

8. The Final Moments Stay With You
By the time the credits begin to roll, you’re not left with a tidy resolution. And that is a good thing. Retro does not deceive you into thinking that everything is right. Instead, it leaves you with a sense of subdued reflection. You carry the characters home with you. You think about your own life. You ponder what memories shaped you.
It’s the kind of movie that makes you want to call mom and dad. Or flip through old family photo albums. Or sit down and write a letter you’ve been putting off. Not because the film tells you to but because it gets you to see how lovely and chaotic life really is.

9. Bottom Line
Retro is not bombastic, flashy, or CGI-heavy. It does not need to be. What it gives you is something less frequently found: honesty, feeling, and a lingering story.
It’s a film of love, and you can tell it in every frame.