There are films that surprise you with their craft, and then there are films that surprise you with their choices. Ace, directed by Arumuga Kumar, clearly belongs to the second category – a film that begins with the promise of a rugged redemption arc but soon spirals into a patchwork of half-baked ideas, misplaced humour, and narrative confusion. As I watched its world unravel, I found myself both amused and bewildered, constantly questioning how a film with such a potentially interesting setup could lose its footing so steadily.
A Hero Who Walks Out of His Past… and Straight Into Convenient Chaos
The film opens by hard-selling the hero as a former “item-guy” – a rowdy whose very presence should radiate menace. Even though the early scenes avoid explicitly showing his past, the buildup insists that he must have once been a legendary, notorious figure. He declares he has erased that identity, that he wants a fresh start, and that he is heading abroad for a new life. His destination is Malaysia, and within minutes of landing, fate throws him into the path of Yogi Babu, who recognises him as Bolt Kannan and drags him away before he can even protest.

This chance encounter becomes the pivot for everything that follows, because the hero suddenly finds himself with a roof over his head and a companion who seems more excited about his past than he is. Yet the film barely pauses to explore the tension of a man outrunning his violent past. Instead, it rushes headfirst into the next checklist item: the heroine.
- A Hero Who Walks Out of His Past… and Straight Into Convenient Chaos
- Love at First Sight and a Loan That Leads to a Villain
- The Casino Scene That Promised Ocean’s Eleven but Delivered a Slum Hut
- A Money Heist Scene That Redefines Absurdity
- Yogi Babu: A Comedy Asset the Film Misunderstands
- Vijay Sethupathi: A Curious Mention With No Purpose
- The Heroine: The Only Character Who Works Hard… for Nothing
- A Film Full of Questions, Few Answers
- Final Verdict
Love at First Sight and a Loan That Leads to a Villain
The moment the hero sees the heroine, he falls for her – instantly, absolutely, and with an urgency that defies logic. Her financial troubles, involving many lakhs rupees, become his mission. It doesn’t matter that he barely knows her; he is already the knight in shining armour, ready to take on the world. The hero says “If I stay quiet, that’s not right. I will solve that problem.” To help him secure a loan, Yogi Babu takes him to a new place… which introduces us to the villain.
This is where I expected the tone to shift. If the hero was once a feared item-guy, surely the villain had to be an even bigger monster. The film certainly attempts that impression. But the execution tells a different story.

The Casino Scene That Promised Ocean’s Eleven but Delivered a Slum Hut
Since the film is titled Ace, I anticipated some stylish gambling sequences or at least a half-decent criminal underworld. Instead, what we get is a casino that looks like a makeshift hut, as though someone attempted to recreate Las Vegas inside a tin-roofed shed. The card game they show is even more confusing – no rules, no strategy, only repetitive dialogues:
“You won.”
“I lost.”
“You won.”
“I lost.”
By the time the villain orders the hero to “You must go inside” for a showdown, the tension is already replaced with unintentional comedy. The hero cheats, admits it with stunning nonchalance “Hey, did you cheat?” “Yes, I cheated,” the hero says, and is then bizarrely mocked as a “KGF fellow” – as if the film wants to scold him for failing to match up to bigger cinematic universes. The villain himself walks around with the same four henchmen, whose only real purpose is to be punched repeatedly.

This attempt at creating a badass antagonist collapses into an awkward parody, weakening the conflict long before it can escalate.
A Money Heist Scene That Redefines Absurdity
Just when I thought the film had exhausted its supply of outlandish ideas, Ace unveils what might be its most baffling sequence: a full-fledged robbery in the middle of a Malaysian main road. People are attacked and robbed in broad daylight, and the film expects us to believe that only four police officers are available on the street… while ten more casually sit in the control room observing everything.
The hero conducts the theft like a street-level chore, triggering a car chase, and Malaysia’s security is portrayed so poorly that it borders on disrespectful. I was genuinely reminded of the diplomatic backlash that followed Vada Chennai when Azerbaijan felt misrepresented. Ace seems to flirt with a similar problem – except with even less self-awareness.
Yogi Babu: A Comedy Asset the Film Misunderstands
No review of Ace is complete without acknowledging Yogi Babu’s presence. The script assumes that his mere appearance is enough to make audiences collapse in laughter. In earlier films, yes, his timing and expressions could uplift even average scenes. But Ace stretches this expectation to unhealthy levels – almost as if the filmmakers believe an ambulance should be stationed outside theatres because viewers might laugh themselves into medical emergencies.

Unfortunately, the writing doesn’t support that belief, and his performance here feels mismatched with the tonal confusion around him.
Vijay Sethupathi: A Curious Mention With No Purpose
One of the strangest aspects of the film is its repeated, random references to Vijay Sethupathi. The narration almost drifts into a commentary about his career – his early unique roles, his rise, the dip when he “acted everywhere for money,” the unexpected return to form with Maharaja. These reflections are interesting on their own, but within Ace, they appear directionless.
By the end, viewers are left with a comical question: “Who is Vijay Sethupathi in this movie? What was his goal? Why was he mentioned at all?”
The film provides no answers, and this dangling thread amplifies the sense of incoherence.
The Heroine: The Only Character Who Works Hard… for Nothing
If anyone in Ace truly earns sympathy, it is the heroine. Her character juggles multiple jobs – working in a clothing store by day, performing in a bar by evening, handling real estate, distributing pamphlets. She is practically the Sarathkumar of Surya Vamsam, hustling from one role to another with unshakeable determination.

But the tragedy is that the film destroys her potential. Despite all this hard work, she gets no real arc, no payoff, and no meaningful growth. Her efforts dissolve into the background, overshadowed by plot chaos that prioritises noise over nuance.
A Film Full of Questions, Few Answers
As the movie ended, one question echoed among viewers: “What was this film trying to achieve?”
The story introduces a reformed rowdy, hints at a criminal past, presents a villain in a hut-casino, throws in an inexplicable heist, misuses Yogi Babu, references Vijay Sethupathi unnecessarily, and sidelines its most hardworking character. And through it all, it offers little clarity and even less emotional satisfaction.
The disappointment runs deep because the early setup held genuine promise. A man escaping his past and landing in a foreign country could have been the foundation for a gripping reinvention story. Instead, the film settles for chaotic sequences stitched together without narrative discipline.

Final Verdict
Ace is a film that tries to bluff its way through style but ends up folding its cards too early. Ambition exists, but execution falters at every turn – from writing to staging to characterisation. It entertains briefly in unintended ways, but rarely for the right reasons. What remains is an experience defined by confusion, hyperbole, and squandered potential.
Rating: 2/5









