Showing posts with label Anushka Shetty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anushka Shetty. Show all posts

Sunday, October 27, 2019

VIDEO REVIEWS: SYERAA NARASIMHA REDDY (TELUGU) & ASURAN (TAMIL)

(These are transcripts of Anna M.M. Vetticad’s video reviews aired on Rajya Sabha TV on October 13, 2019.)


Hello everyone, today I’m reviewing two films that are complete contrasts in terms of content and storytelling style. Both are big star vehicles though.

First, Syeraa Narasimha Reddy in which Telugu superstar Chiranjeevi plays Uyyalawada Narasimha Reddy who led an uprising against the British East India Company in the mid 1800s. This was before the 1857 revolt. To emphasise this point, his story is recounted here by Rani Laxmibai of Jhansi in a speech with which she hopes to inspire HER men to fight the British. 

In flashback form, Laxmibai takes us through the life of Syeraa Narasimha Reddy, one among several once-powerful rulers in the Telugu heartland who are being stripped of their power by the British. 

The common people are reeling under the back-breaking taxation policies of the British, when the hero sets out to unite his fellow rulers and the farmers against these foreigners.

Woven into the narrative is also his romance with the classical dancer Lakshmi, his relationship with his wife, song and dance routines shot on a gigantic scale, and endless action scenes. 

What is nice about Syeraa Narasimha Reddy is that it tells the story of an anti-British rebellion from southern India. The popular discourse in large parts of India tends to focus on the contributions and achievements of North Indians, not just in India’s freedom struggle but in all matters. In this context, Syeraa Narasimha Reddy is significant. But it squanders away that plus point with the WAY it tells its story.

As it turns out, the primary goal of this film is to underline Chiranjeevi’s star stature. More effort has been invested in creating a spectacle rather than in writing in-depth characters. Reddy is built up as a saintly He Man with superhuman strength and yogic powers. He is projected as SO INVINCIBLE, that his ultimate defeat seems unconvincing even though it is spelt out as a historical fact. 

To give the film scale, Chiranjeevi is surrounded by multiple major stars from Tamannaah to Nayanthara, Sudeep, Vijay Sethupathi, Amitabh Bachchan, Anushka Shetty and ... well, the list is long. Except for Tamannaah and Bachchan to some extent, the others are given short shrift by the screenplay.

This story has huge potential for social insights, but director Surender Reddy is too busy lionising Syeraa Narasimha Reddy and Chiranjeevi. Therefore the film offers us little understanding of the class and caste struggles involved. Realism and facts are not a priority in this revisionist historical drama.

As far as technical aspects go, the lavish production design and costumes are eye-catching, but the special effects are of confusing quality. Some night-time scenes are wonderfully impressive, but some scenes are surprisingly mediocre. The SFX in that long passage involving bulls, for instance, is embarrassingly tacky. 

The overall tone of the narrative is loud, rubbing every point, every message in our faces. 

For hard-core Chiranjeevi fans, perhaps there is some pay off here since their favourite star dominates the film in a role designed to overshadow all else on screen. That apart, Syeraa Narasimha Reddy is a generic, uninspiring film that lacks soul.

**** ****


Now on to writer-director Vetrimaaran’s Asuran.

From the moment he grabbed the spotlight with Aadukalam early this decade, Vetrimaaran has made his own road. With Asuran he offers a stellar redefinition of Big Cinema in the Indian context. 

There is a tendency in our country to assume that if a film revolves around caste or exploitation of any form, then it cannot take on the trappings that give mainstream Indian cinema its larger-than-life feel. With Asuran, Vetrimaaran walks a fine line to ensure that his hero is projected as a giant among men without trivialising the struggles of a marginalised community or making him appear so unconquerable that his defeats become hard to swallow. 

Dhanush plays Sivasamy whose impoverished family is engaged in a feud with a powerful land-owning family in the area. Initially, Sivasamy comes across as a pacifist. His sons are frustrated with his keenness to avoid violence. Later though, he introduces us to his defiant past and the havoc his defiance wreaked on those around him. 

Dhanush’s remarkable physical transformation is not the only indicator of the passage of time in Asuran. His is a richly detailed character that evolves too as the story runs along. Even when he metamorphoses into a roaring lion on screen, his brilliant acting, the direction and the writing ensure that he remains believable. 

Although Sivasamy is the central figure, the screenplay works hard to develop the characters of his wife Pachiammal, two sons, brother-in-law and antagonists. The excellent supporting cast does full justice to the writing. But none of the stars overshadows the film’s story or messaging. 

Malayalam superstar Manju Warrier in particular deserves to be singled out for her deeply felt, relatable performance as Pachiammal in a film that marks her Tamil debut. She is so good, that you have to wonder why even progressive filmmakers like Vetrimaaran tend to think in terms of male-centric stories. 

That said, Asuran uses a conventional genre – the male-centric action drama – to tell an unconventional story. 

It is violent, but it does not endorse violence. 

It uses episodes of loudness to take us to a point of stillness and calm. 

In short, Asuran is lovely.

**** ****

Link to the video of these reviews aired on Rajya Sabha TV:

Photographs courtesy:


Friday, April 28, 2017

REVIEW 488: BAAHUBALI – THE CONCLUSION


Release date:
April 28, 2017
Director:
S.S. Rajamouli
Cast:


Language:
Prabhas, Rana Daggubati, Anushka Shetty, Ramya Krishna, Sathyaraj, Nassar, a few seconds of Tamannaah Bhatia
Telugu

(Note: This is a review of the Hindi dubbed version of the Telugu film Baahubali: The Conclusion.)


Fans of the Baahubali franchise have been discussing the hashtag #WKKB on the social media for a while now. If you have not guessed yet, that stands for “Why Kattappa Killed Baahubali”, a reference to the teaser in the closing scene of Baahubali: The Beginning in 2015. You will not find spoilers on the #WKKB front in this review. Hold on to your seats though for the answer to a far more pressing question: #DRTOHS.

In the first film, the tribal boy Shivudu (Prabhas) discovered that he is, in fact, Mahendra Baahubali, son of the late great Amarendra Baahubali (also Prabhas) who was robbed of the throne of Mahishmati kingdom by the machinations of his cruel cousin Bhallaladeva (Rana Daggubati) and uncle Bijjaladeva (Nassar). In Baahubali: The Conclusion, Mahendra hears the story of why and how that happened before setting off to avenge the deaths of his father and foster grandmother Sivagami (Ramya Krishna) and to free his mother Devasena (Anushka Shetty) from imprisonment in Mahishmati.

As with the opening film, this one too is an Amar Chitra Katha-style blend of mythological references and palace intrigue laid out on a vast canvas of visual grandeur. The proportion of the ingredients has been changed though, with myth and socially regressive themes being scaled down, family politics being scaled up, and the decibel levels being raised by several notches.

The novelty of seeing an Indian film so laden with heavy special effects at such a scale from start to finish has worn off in the two years since Baahubali 1 was released, and it is hard now to forgive this one for Mahishmati’s plastic façade and those painfully obvious CGI beasts. Somehow, nothing here seems to match up to that waterfall in Part 1. Still, when the going is good, director S.S. Rajamouli’s Baahubali: The Conclusion is pleasing to the eye, in particular with its costumes, lavish interiors and innovative stunts.

A film of this nature obviously requires a suspension of disbelief in that last department. And frankly, if we are willing to swallow the invincibility of the likes of Tom Cruise, Bruce Willis and the various Bonds down the decades, then there is no reason why we should not buy that scene in which Amarendra mounts an elephant by walking up its trunk with the animal’s assistance and – my favourite of the lot – that war-time gimmick involving palm trees, shields and Newtonian physics towards the end.

Those stunts, M.M. Kreem’s background score and the use of his songs to up the tempo of the narrative are what keep Baahubali: The Conclusion watchable even when the ridiculous over-acting becomes hard to take and the lack of freshness in the storyline sinks in. Daggubati and Shetty – both gorgeous, both equally charismatic – keep themselves relatively in check, which is admirable considering that over-statement seems to be the demand of Rajamouli’s storytelling in this cinematic diptych (“relatively” being a key word here). Prabhas’ pretty face somewhat compensates for all that self-indulgent posing about he does, most notably while Devasena sings a song about Lord Krishna in a scene that unwittingly betrays her man’s Oedipus complex.

The rest of the cast is laughable, with each rivalling the other for the year’s Worst Acting Awards. There is the usually wonderful Nassar who hams here to such an extent that he makes Sohrab Modi seem under-stated in comparison. The extras in every single scene – soldiers, courtiers and subjects – seem to be competing with the memorably howlarious bit-part players of the black-and-white era. And Subba Raju playing Devasena’s beau Kumara Varma is so bad, he should be declared a threat to society.

The queen of the film’s hamsters though (if such a word does not exist in the acting lexicon, then it should) is Krishna whose eyes remain fixed in a bulbous stare through the nearly three hours of this film’s running time.

For all its seeming innocuousness, Baahubali: The Beginning was a horribly narrow-minded film that rolled out a range of stereotypes couched in its good-looking frames. The black-denotes-evil cliché was exacerbated by its white-is-glamorous conviction. Disability coincidentally found its way only on to evil people. And Sivagami’s power paled into insignificance in the face of Shivudu’s sexual violation and ultimate subjugation of the warrior Avanthika played by Tamannaah Bhatia.

In that respect, Baahubali: The Conclusion is a step up. Devasena remains strong and active from start to finish, and is at no point reduced to being Shivudu or Amarendra’s sidekick. She is a partner, not a prop. Still, the marginalisation of Avanthika in this film is almost tragic. In Part 1 she was a feisty woman whose mission was taken over by Shivudu once he ‘makes’ her fall in love with him and discover her inner femininity. In Part 2, she is an absolute nobody with nothing to say and just a few seconds of screen time in mass scenes. In that context, giving Bhatia fourth billing in the closing credits (after the two leading men and Shetty, but before Krishna) comes across as condescension, not an acknowledgement of her star status.

There is so much else that is troubling in Rajamouli’s worldview: for one, the undisputed right of the Kshatriya to rule. If there is a question here, it is only: which Kshatriya – the good guy or the bad guy? And either way, it has to be one of the guys. All the spectacle in the world, the Durga-esque positioning of Sivagami and Devasena, and the emphasis on Mahendra/Amarendra’s virtues cannot camouflage Baahubali’s disturbing romanticisation of social status-quoism.

This then is the conclusion of this review: Baahubali: The Conclusion is a cocktail of fun stunts, attractive stars, grand settings, terrible acting, conflicted attitudes and closeted conservatism. (Aside: The Hindi dubbing is impressive. A bow here to the choice of voices and to Manoj Muntashir, dialogue writer and lyricist for this version.)

As is always the case, each viewer’s response to the film depends on her/his priorities. My priority, I admit, is not #WKKB but #DRTOHS: does Rana take off his shirt (in the film, as he has for the posters)? Answer: yes he does. For good measure, so does Prabhas. Both men rip off their upperwear in an extended scene of hand-to-hand combat, to reveal perfectly sculpted, stunningly muscular torsos in what has now become commercial Indian cinema’s most-used formula across all states. In the way it is told, #WKKB is not as dramatic a revelation as expected. #DRTOHS, on the other hand, is absolute paisa vasool.
  
Rating (out of five stars): **1/4

CBFC Rating (India):
UA
Running time:
167 minutes

This review has also been published on Firstpost: