LIK: Love Insurance Kompany Review: Colourful Futuristic Romcom

LIK: Love Insurance Kompany is an ambitious film for its setting, but underscores in both the romance and the humour departments, points out Sreeju Sudhakaran.

Vignesh Shivan's LIK: Love Insurance Kompany is a futuristic romantic comedy set in Chennai in 2040. Netflix's Black Mirror may well have served as an inspiration here, particularly the Bryce Dallas Howard episode where a person's worth is dictated by algorithmic ratings.

LIK, however, steers clear of such dark, dystopian extremes. Instead, Shivan creates a future where caste, creed, or religion doesn't need to play villains in determining compatibility -- it is an app deciding whether a couple should, quite literally, be a couple.

On paper, the idea feels intriguing, especially within the framework of a Tamil feel-good entertainer. To his credit, Vignesh Shivan does manage to create a visually vibrant, superficially convincing futuristic world with Anirudh's snazzy score to boot.

The aesthetic works, at least in terms of tone. But how that world, and more importantly, the central love story, sustains engagement is where LIK begins to falter.

The Plot of LIK: Love Insurance Kompany

In this imagined 2040, the mobile ecosystem is monopolised by Love Insurance Kompany, a corporate giant helmed by Suriyan (SJ Suryah), a tech mogul who harbours a deep disdain for humans and prefers the company of androids.

LIK determines romantic compatibility, enables partners to surveil each other, and effectively takes control of its users' personal lives.

Ironically, the voice behind LIK's interface is Vasu, aka Vibe Vassey (Pradeep Ranganathan), a man who has never used a mobile phone. His father (Seeman) enforces a strict no-mobile zone, a reformist enclave where offenders of social media excess are sent for 'rehabilitation'.

Vasu's indifference towards technology is challenged when he meets Dheema (Krithi Shetty), an influencer whose entire existence is dictated by her phone, and thereby by LIK. It doesn't take much time for Dheema to reciprocate his feelings. But when Suriyan introduces a new feature called the 'Love Score', it destroys their romantic equation, prompting Vasu to take on LIK in a bid to reclaim control over his own love story.

A Relatable Futuristic World

In LIK, two ideas stand out in theory: The imagined futuristic Chennai and the idea of corporates stripping relationships of human agency. Vignesh Shivan approaches both with a certain earnestness, attempting to ground them in relatability. Ravi Varman's cinematography lends the world a glossy optimism, even as it depicts with enough whimsicality an unsettling reality. This is a world where data dictates desire, privacy is bartered for convenience, and emotional autonomy is almost absent.

Hmm... are we really talking about the future here?

This Chennai features holographic projections, human-like robots, drone deliveries, and even flying cars; though, amusingly, bikes seem to have resisted the tech evolution. The VFX is serviceable, and the world-building, while not deeply explored, is passable within the film's tonal ambitions.

India, in this imagined future, is so advanced that, perhaps reflecting that satire video that had went viral, foreigners are seen selling wares on the streets. But questions about unemployment, economic disparity, or the broader consequences of AI dominance are conveniently sidestepped. If romantic compatibility is the biggest crisis left to solve, I wonder whether this corporatised future has somehow made Life better.

Vignesh Shivan, clearly, is not interested in unpacking these implications in depth. And therefore... sigh... neither should we.

Instead, let's talk about the central romance, and this is where Love Insurance Kompany stumbles the most.

A Romantic Track That Lacks Good Emotions

It is quite expected that since this is a Pradeep Ranganathan starrer, the film is more inclined POV of the male protagonist than the heroine, the latter suffering from scattered writing.

Dheema is both a product and a victim of her times, yet the character is rendered with a certain emotional shallowness. While her vacuousness may be intentional, the film fails to build enough emotional depth for the romance to feel compelling. We rarely see her genuinely grapple with her feelings for Vasu unless prompted by him, which weakens the emotional stakes.

This also exposes a strain of misogyny in the writing. Dheema is shaped by her mother's influence; the villain is defined by a failed relationship; the hero, meanwhile, is grounded by a wise and caring father.

The hero's female best friend (Gouri G Kishan) is manipulated by the app into believing he loves her (an interesting idea, admittedly), but it is once again the hero who hammers clarity into her head.

By the time the narrative reaches its later stages, and Dheema is once again forced to reassess her relationship with Vasu following a confrontation with the antagonist, their romance begins to feel exhausting.

At one point, you are almost inclined to believe that the algorithm might indeed be better at coming out with a better couple than the one we are supposed to root for in the film. A tragic irony for its theme.

There are fleeting moments where the love track works, notably the Dheema Dheema song and the Halloween party sequence, both elevated by their staging and visual flair. The pre-interval stretch, driven by the introduction of the 'Love Score', also injects some much-needed dramatic tension. But these are isolated highs in an otherwise highly uneven plotline.

Man vs Machine, Minus the Bite

With the emotional core lacking, the film shifts focus to the conflict between Vasu and Suriyan. While a few of their interactions carry a certain playful energy -- and SJ Suryah dancing to one of his own hit tracks is undeniably fun -- the larger clash feels undercooked.

Given LIK's absolute control over the digital ecosystem, one would expect a lopsided battle. The film even hints at this when Suriyan orders Vasu's digital isolation, but the consequences of such actions are never fully explored. The contest remains frustratingly superficial.

There are, admittedly, some quirky touches -- the Vasu-versus-robots climax fight, Suriyan's dynamic with his long-suffering henchman (Anandaraj), and scattered comedic beats. Yogi Babu's track, where he plays Dheema's 'open friend', lands in patches. But the humour, for the most part, feels laboured, managing only occasional chuckles.

The Performances

Pradeep Ranganathan tones down some of the manic energy seen in his earlier outings, but this remains a performance tailored largely to his existing fanbase. His screen presence is lively, though not particularly transformative.

Krithi Shetty fits the part of the social media-driven influencer convincingly at a surface level, but is not very convincing in the more emotionally demanding moments.

SJ Suryah, meanwhile, operates well within a familiar zone. He brings his trademark flamboyance and controlled eccentricity to Suriyan, delivering exactly what one expects.

In the end, LIK is an ambitious film for its setting, but underscores in both the romance and the humour departments.

The world-building is vibrant, the ideas are relevant, but the storytelling lacks the depth and conviction needed to bring them together meaningfully.

LIK: Love Insurance Kompany Review Rediff Rating: