Subha J Rao

In his short lifetime of 38 years (1882-1921), Subramania Bharati left an indelible mark on Tamil society. His rousing poetry and prose introduced many to the concepts of patriotism and female emancipation, and enhanced them in those who already possessed it. His love for the country, and towards his Parasakthi, the divine feminine are well-known. The nimirndha nannadai (graceful walk with head held high) and nerkonda paarvai (straightforward vision) he visualised women to possess still serve as an inspiration to some and an aspiration for others. Despite multiple readings of Bharati’s life over the ages, there’s still scope to analyse the various facets of his life. And, that’s what the film Shaktidasan (devotee of Shakti), by director Usha Rajeshwari sets out to do.

It takes a certain kind of courage to write a one-note film and pack it with well-choreographed action set pieces without any of the trappings (barring an item number, sigh!) of a film where the hero is the saviour. For instance, the traditional mother sentiment is turned on its head — with the mother (Sudha Belawadi) telling others that the families of those in the police force should be brave — and there’s no romance angle that diverts the hero from his grand goal. This is one of the main reasons the film races past at a spiff two hours and 13 minutes. But what debut director Vijay Karthikeyaa has with him is an action star of Sudeep’s calibre. This is the kind of role Sudeep can do with his eyes closed — show brawn, fight, and casually spread his charisma around. And, he delights his core fan base with this film where he does all the things they’ve come to expect of him — kickass action, punch dialogues and a certain swagger that, strangely, comes effortlessly to someone also capable of deep nuance and sensitivity.

Cinema as a medium commands and deserves respect, both from its audience and those who work in it, especially directors and actors. So, how does one review a film where the hero and director are the same person, and when both work in tandem to leave you with a confused set of images that lead nowhere. What if they rest on past glories, justified or not, and leave you with problematic imagery and dialogues that leave your head spinning, and make you so want to say, ‘Boss, idhu 2024. 1980s alla’.

There’s a Bengaluru that has slowly been invisibilised in pop culture. It’s almost like they’d like you to believe India’s Silicon Valley is all about skyscrapers and pubs, people with laptops waltzing into swanky hotels and coffee shops, and health-conscious folks ordering flour from chakkis. But, there’s another Bengaluru, the one that was once the mainstream and is now the outlier — made up of locals and migrant workforce, all of whom fall under the broad category of the middle class — whose members walk hesitantly into star hotels, drink happily in open-to-the-sky bars, who stand in a queue to grind flour in a machine, and who struggle to pay their loans on time, every single month. The kind of people who wear unbranded inner garments and smell of sweat, as a character in Maryade Prashne says. The only thing they have for themselves is maryade or self-respect. What does one do when that is questioned? When intent is rubbished? That’s what Nagaraj Somayaji’s taut two-hour-long Maryade Prashne is all about.

The trick with a prequel is that you have to impress viewers who have watched the original film, and those who are new to its cinematic world. So, first, a round of congratulations to director Narthan, who charmed in 2017 with his debut Mufti, and now with its prequel Bhairathi Ranagal, starring Shiva Rajkumar, Rahul Bose, Rukmini Vasanth and Chhaya Singh, among others.