FILM STUDIES WORKSHEET: ANALYSING EDITING & NON-LINEAR NARRATIVE IN MAHARAJA (2024)
This blog is inspired by a reflective film analysis task assigned by Dr.Dilip Barad, focusing on editing and non-linear narrative techniques in the Tamil film Maharaja (2024). Click here
Introduction of Movie:
The story follows Maharaja, a quiet barber who shocks the police by filing a complaint about a missing dustbin named “Lakshmi.” What begins as an odd and seemingly trivial case slowly unfolds into a layered narrative of personal trauma, revenge, and moral dilemma. The film moves across three timelines—present, seven years ago, and fifteen years ago—using non-linear storytelling to gradually reveal the depth of Maharaja’s emotional journey. The editing structure keeps the audience guessing and emotionally invested until the final revelation. Released on 14 June 2024, the film became a massive commercial and critical success, grossing over ₹190 crore worldwide and receiving wide acclaim for its storytelling, performances, and editing.
PART A: BEFORE WATCHING THE FILM
1. WHAT IS NON-LINEAR NARRATION IN CINEMA? USE EXAMPLES FROM FILMS YOU’VE SEEN PREVIOUSLY.
Non-linear narration in cinema is a narrative technique in which events are presented out of chronological order. Instead of following a traditional beginning-to-end structure, the storyline is rearranged—jumping between past, present, and sometimes future—based on emotional, psychological, or thematic logic. This type of storytelling is often used to create suspense, reflect a character’s fragmented memory, or gradually reveal crucial information that reshapes our understanding of earlier scenes.
One of the most iconic examples is Memento (2000) by Christopher Nolan. In this film, the story unfolds in reverse order, allowing the audience to experience the disorientation of the protagonist, who suffers from short-term memory loss. Another example is Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction (1994), which tells several interconnected stories out of order. This approach enhances character development and creates a sense of curiosity as the viewer pieces together how all events relate.
In Indian cinema, Rang De Basanti (2006) uses flashbacks to show the parallel between freedom fighters of the past and modern-day students. Similarly, Maharaja (2024) employs a non-linear structure by shifting across three timelines: the present, seven years ago, and fifteen years ago. This fractured timeline mirrors the emotional complexity of the characters, especially Maharaja, whose life is shaped by trauma, loss, and memory.
Non-linear narration challenges the viewer to become an active participant in decoding the narrative. It also allows filmmakers to play with structure, reveal surprises strategically, and deepen emotional engagement. By unfolding events in a fragmented manner, such films often resemble how real people process memories—non-linearly and emotionally, rather than logically and sequentially.
2. HOW CAN EDITING ALTER OR MANIPULATE THE PERCEPTION OF TIME IN FILM? MENTION EDITING TECHNIQUES LIKE CROSS-CUTTING, FLASHBACKS, PARALLEL EDITING, ELLIPSES, ETC.
Editing is one of the most powerful tools in filmmaking, especially when it comes to shaping the viewer’s perception of time. Through the use of different editing techniques, a filmmaker can stretch, compress, or rearrange time to fit the narrative and emotional tone of the story. Time in cinema is not real-time—it is constructed, and editing is the process by which that construction happens.
One key technique is the flashback, which transports the viewer to a past event. Flashbacks can reveal important backstory, explain character motivation, or emotionally deepen a moment. For instance, in The Godfather Part II, flashbacks show Vito Corleone’s early life, enriching our understanding of his character. In Maharaja, flashbacks are used frequently to uncover key moments from the protagonist’s past, like the traumatic home invasion, which is initially hidden from the viewer.
Ellipses are another tool—by omitting unimportant moments, editors skip forward in time, keeping the pacing tight and focused. Montage sequences, often used in training or transformation scenes (as in Rocky), compress time into a few seconds.
Cross-cutting is the act of cutting between two scenes happening simultaneously in different locations. It is often used in thrillers to build tension, like in Inception during the layered dream levels. Parallel editing is similar, but it connects two storylines thematically rather than simultaneously.
Additionally, match cuts, jump cuts, and sound bridges are used to guide viewers across time or space smoothly or abruptly. In Maharaja, editor Philomin Raj uses subtle sound cues and visual clues like costumes or lighting to signal timeline shifts, often without traditional transitions. This manipulation of cinematic time influences how viewers engage with the story, forming an emotional bond or maintaining suspense.
PART B: WHILE WATCHING THE FILM
|
Scene/Sequence |
Timestamp (Approx) |
Timeline |
Visual / Editing Clues |
Narrative Purpose |
|
1. Opening – Barbershop routine |
00:02:33 |
Present |
Long static shots; minimal dialogue; natural indoor lighting |
Establishes Maharaja’s normal, calm life and roots the narrative before anything unusual unfolds |
|
2. Police station – complaint about “Lakshmi” |
00:23:17 |
Present |
Scene shifts to police station; focused framing; characters react with confusion |
Initiates mystery Lakshmi (his daughter’s dustbin) disappears and prompts investigation |
|
3. Flashback – truck accident kills wife |
00:06:00 |
15 years ago |
Sudden cut; warmer tones; slow dissolution into past |
Reveals the emotional trauma that sets up Maharaja’s deeper motivations |
|
4. Flashback – Jothi survives under dustbin |
02:15:20 |
15 years ago |
Soft visuals; ambient sound fades in; close-up on dustbin |
Shows significance of Lakshmi as more than a dustbin—it’s a protective symbol |
|
5. Flashbacks – Selvam and Sabari’s home invasion |
01:50:00 |
7 years ago |
Rapid cuts; dim lighting; intense sound design |
Discloses the horror that drives Maharaja’s transformation and quest for justice |
|
6. Interwoven present investigation |
02:01:56 |
Present with flashbacks |
Cross-cutting between police interviews and flashbacks; tense non-diegetic music |
Builds suspense by paralleling flashbacks with present interrogation |
|
7. Maharaja narrates story to police (Jothi’s story shown) |
01:35:00 |
Present & past |
voiceover narration over flashback visuals (sound bridge) |
Creates dramatic irony- police think it’s his story, audience sees the truth |
|
8. Final reveal – daughter Jothi alive |
02:14:11 |
Present |
Warm lighting; slow dissolve; emotional score cues; close-up of Jothi |
Resolves emotional arc: “Lakshmi” refers to Jothi, not a dustbin; climax and emotional payoff |
PART C: NARRATIVE MAPPING TASK
1. Chronological Timeline (Actual Story Order)
- Maharaja works peacefully as a barber in Chennai .
- While visiting a friend’s house with his wife and baby daughter Annu, a truck crashes in—his wife dies, but Annu survives when a metal dustbin falls on her.
- Maharaja adopts Annu, renames her Jothi, and names the dustbin “Lakshmi” as a family talisman.
- Selvam and Sabari’s criminal gang (later joined by police informant Nallasivam) commit heinous crimes. Maharaja indirectly alerts the police, leading to Selvam’s arrest.
- Selvam is released seeking revenge, and along with Dhana and Nallasivam, assaults Jothi in Maharaja’s home.
- Maharaja kills Dhana, then files a false “Lakshmi stolen” complaint to mislead police, using bribe to launch their investigation.
- Police collude by sending Nallasivam as the planted perpetrator—Maharaja identifies him and kills him.
- Maharaja confronts Selvam at a construction site; following an emotional interaction, Selvam realizes Jothi is his daughter and commits suicide.
- The film ends with Jothi and Maharaja departing, and blood from Selvam’s body seeping into Jothi’s footprint—a poetic metaphor.
2. Screen-Time Timeline (How the Audience Experiences the Story)
- Opens with present-day scenes of Maharaja at his barbershop, then filing the “Lakshmi stolen” complaint.
- Viewers initially believe “Lakshmi” is a mere dustbin and Maharaja is possibly eccentric.
- Flashbacks reveal the truck crash and how “Lakshmi” protected Annu—shaping emotional significance.
- Past scenes unfold of Selvam’s crimes and Maharaja’s unintentional role in Selvam’s arrest, leading to revenge motive.
- Interspersed present-day investigation scenes from the police station, with flashbacks triggering revelation of the assault on Jothi.
- Present-day revenge killings are intercut with past trauma, maintaining tension and red herrings.
- Police orchestrate confrontation; Maharaja identifies and executes Nallasivam.
- The climactic reveal at a construction site: emotional confrontation and Selvam’s suicide.
- Final poetic imagery provides closure: Maharaja and Jothi walking away, final shot on Jothi’s footprint with blood seeping in.
3. BRIEF REFLECTION:
1. What effect does the editing have on your understanding of the characters and events?
The editing in Maharaja deeply influences how we perceive both the characters and the unfolding events. At first, Maharaja appears to be a strange yet harmless man making a bizarre complaint about a missing dustbin. However, the non-linear editing gradually reveals the layers of his trauma, love, and quiet rage. Through carefully structured flashbacks and withheld information, the film transforms our view of him from a quirky civilian into a grieving father and a methodical avenger. The editing also blurs the moral lines. For example, we sympathize with him even as he commits multiple murders because we understand his pain in delayed, fragmented doses. Similarly, the police officers seem negligent at first, but their growing awareness and support of Maharaja’s cause is revealed subtly, showing their ethical transformation too. The non-linear timeline encourages us to judge and then re-evaluate, creating a dynamic relationship with the characters. We’re not just watching them—we’re discovering them. This layered understanding wouldn’t be possible in a strictly chronological narrative. The editing, in essence, becomes the lens through which truth and emotion are filtered.
2. Did any reveal surprise you because of how it was edited?
Yes, the most powerful surprise was the final reveal that “Lakshmi” is not just a dustbin, but a symbolic name for Maharaja’s daughter, Jothi. Throughout the film, the editing misleads the audience into believing that Maharaja is obsessing over an inanimate object. This misdirection is done subtly—through long takes, deadpan police reactions, and silent flashbacks that never fully explain the significance of “Lakshmi” until much later. When the flashback finally shows the truck crash and how the metal dustbin saved Jothi’s life, the emotional weight of that object becomes clear. That moment redefines the entire plot, changing it from a revenge thriller into a story about memory, trauma, and a father’s way of protecting what’s left of his broken family. This twist was not just about shock—it was built through patient, non-linear editing that withheld just enough to make the final reveal both heartbreaking and poetic. In a linear film, this twist would have been predictable. But here, it landed with depth and emotion because the editing played with audience assumptions so masterfully.
3. Would a linear narrative have had the same emotional or intellectual impact?
No, a linear narrative would not have had the same emotional or intellectual impact as the non-linear structure used in Maharaja. The strength of the film lies in how it slowly reveals layers of pain, motive, and moral complexity through scattered, carefully timed flashbacks. If the film had followed a straight beginning-to-end structure, the audience would have immediately known about Jothi’s trauma and Maharaja’s motive for revenge. This would have made the narrative more predictable and the character motivations too straightforward. The non-linear editing, however, allows the film to function as a psychological mystery. We, as viewers, begin by judging Maharaja’s behavior as odd or suspicious. But as we are shown key flashbacks at critical emotional beats, we gain new insights that force us to re-evaluate everything we thought we knew. This mental and emotional reconstruction mirrors Maharaja’s own healing process, making us feel more connected to him. The editing strategy engages both our minds and hearts, turning the viewing experience into a journey of empathy and discovery—something a linear narrative couldn’t have delivered with the same impact.
PART D: EDITING TECHNIQUES –
|
Scene |
Editing Technique |
Impact on Viewer |
|
1. Maharaja files a police complaint about “Lakshmi” |
- Long static takes and minimal cuts - Deliberate withholding of backstory - No emotional cues - Late flashback insertion through cross-cutting |
Creates confusion and curiosity; makes audience question Maharaja’s mental state. Scene feels absurd until later emotional flashbacks reframe it. Viewer is led to make assumptions, then later re-evaluates them with deeper understanding. |
|
2. Flashback: Home Invasion and Jothi’s Assault |
- Rapid cross-cutting and jump cuts - Desaturated color tone - Disorienting sound design and sharp transitions - Fragmented memory-style editing |
Visceral emotional impact; portrays trauma not as a linear event, but as haunting fragments. Viewer feels helpless like Maharaja. Editing enhances shock and empathy while giving insight into his motive for revenge and emotional transformation. |
Part E: Analytical Essay
“ In Maharaja, editing is not just a technical craft but a storytelling strategy.”
Editing as Storytelling in Maharaja (2024)
In cinema, editing is often seen as a post-production process that stitches scenes together for flow and continuity. However, in Maharaja (2024), directed by Nithilan Saminathan and edited by Philomin Raj, editing is far more than a technical function—it is the core of how the story is told, how characters are understood, and how emotional meaning is constructed. The film’s non-linear narrative and strategic use of delayed revelation transform editing into a powerful storytelling device.
From the opening scene, the viewer is placed into a quiet, mundane setting: Maharaja runs a modest barbershop and appears to be an ordinary man. He then visits a police station to file a peculiar complaint about a missing dustbin named “Lakshmi.” The editing at this point is intentionally flat—long takes, simple camera angles, and little emotional context. The scene plays out in an almost absurd tone, as even the police mock the seriousness of the complaint. Yet, it is precisely this withholding of information that builds intrigue. The editing here creates mystery, not through dramatic music or visual effects, but by managing what we are allowed to know and when.
As the film progresses, flashbacks are inserted—but not in any clear or labeled manner. The editing avoids traditional visual cues like black-and-white color shifts or on-screen dates. Instead, the film relies on subtle transitions: a sound cue, a change in lighting, a shift in emotional tone. These editorial decisions create a sense of disorientation that mirrors the mental and emotional state of the protagonist. We are not simply told Maharaja’s past—we discover it slowly, just as he carries the burden of it internally. In this way, the editing mimics memory itself: fragmented, unreliable, but deeply emotional.
The power of editing in Maharaja becomes most evident in its use of revelation. For much of the film, the audience is led to believe that Maharaja is eccentric or even mentally unstable, obsessed with a lost object. But when the flashback of the tragic truck accident is finally revealed, and we learn how the dustbin “Lakshmi” saved his daughter, everything shifts. The dustbin is not a meaningless object—it is a symbol of survival, love, and protection. This sudden emotional punch only works because of how carefully the editing has managed narrative withholding. Had this been shown in the beginning, it would have stripped the film of its slow-burning tension and moral ambiguity.
Moreover, the editing plays a crucial role in viewer engagement. The audience is not a passive observer but is invited to become an investigator—piecing together the timeline, interpreting character behavior, and adjusting emotional responses as new information surfaces. This active participation makes the film immersive and intellectually stimulating. By avoiding chronological storytelling, the film forces us to rethink what we know, who we trust, and how we feel, again and again.
The climax, where Selvam realizes that Jothi is his biological daughter and takes his own life, is another moment where editing carries emotional power. It could have been a dramatic confrontation, but instead, it is quiet, reflective, and slow-paced. The editor chooses restraint over spectacle, emphasizing emotional weight rather than action. This reinforces the idea that Maharaja is not a revenge thriller at its core, but a deeply human story about pain, memory, and redemption.
In conclusion, Maharaja exemplifies how editing can shape not just the structure but the soul of a film. Philomin Raj’s editorial choices turn the timeline into a tool of empathy, the flashbacks into emotional revelations, and the scenes into moral puzzles. Editing, in this film, is not invisible—it is the invisible narrator. It decides what to reveal, what to hide, and how to make us feel every step of the way. Maharaja proves that editing is not just a craft—it is the heartbeat of storytelling.
Conclusion:
Maharaja (2024) is far more than a revenge thriller—it is a deeply layered exploration of trauma, justice, and emotional resilience. Through its non-linear narrative and meticulously crafted editing, the film slowly peels back the layers of its protagonist’s past, revealing the pain, loss, and love that drive his silent rage. Vijay Sethupathi’s powerful performance, combined with Philomin Raj’s masterful editing, transforms the film into a cinematic experience that engages both the heart and the mind.
What begins as a peculiar missing-object case turns into a poignant story about a father’s grief and the haunting weight of memory. The film challenges viewers to look beyond surface appearances and piece together meaning from emotional fragments. In the end, Maharaja not only delivers suspense and surprise but also leaves a lasting emotional impact, reminding us that justice is not always loud—and healing is often quiet, painful, and deeply personal.
References:
Chandar, Bhuvanesh. “‘Maharaja’ movie review: Vijay Sethupathi stands out in Nithilan Saminathan's almost-there thriller.” The Hindu, 14 June 2024, https://www.thehindu.com/entertainment/movies/maharaja-movie-review-vijay-sethupathi-stands-out-in-nithilan-saminathans-almost-there-thriller/article68288795.ece. Accessed 15 July 2025.
“Frame narrative.” Oxford Reference, https://www.oxfordreference.com/display/10.1093/oi/authority.20110803095832133. Accessed 15 July 2025.
Murch, Walter. In the Blink of an Eye. First Edition, Silman-James Press, 2001, www.craftfilmschool.com/userfiles/files/Walter%20Murch%20-%20In%20the%20Blink%20of%20an%20Eye%20Revised%202nd%20Edition%20(2001%2C%20Silman-James%20Pr).pdf. Accessed 15 July 2025.
“Narration in the Fiction Film.” Google Books, https://books.google.co.in/books?id=HhJb5Ks2PvEC&printsec=copyright&redir_esc=y#v=onepage&q&f=false. Accessed 15 July 2025.
Radhakrishnan, Roopa. “Maharaja Movie Review: An engaging but engineered film that works even with faults.” Times of India, 14 June 2024, https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/entertainment/tamil/movie-reviews/maharaja/movie-review/110948075.cms. Accessed 15 July 2025.

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