Sye Raa Narasimha Reddy is a period drama that follows our standard template: a hero who is larger than life faced with an insurmountable problem that is larger than life. There are supporting roles which feed the hero’s larger than life image and make it larger than the already larger than life image. Based on Uyyalawada Narasimha Reddy’s heroic tale from the mid-18th century, the movie makes some interesting decisions. Drama is one of them. A 10-minute nationalistic fervour to close the screenplay is another. They could have done away with both, for the protagonist’s story already had enough thump in it.
Sye Raa Narasimha Reddy has two distinct parts. A majority of the movie, true to the story, is about his armed rebellion at the helm of a band of peasants against the British East India Company. Most of the movie therefore steers clear of nationalistic clarion calls or from invoking patriotic fervour (the promotion and the teaser do lead us to believe the movie is largely about that, but it isn’t).
As the story goes, Narasimha Reddy stirs a rebellion of the peasants and local satraps against the agrarian taxation and other laws with respect to their land rights brought into effect by the Britishers. He indulges in successful looting of their treasury, even winning a battle or two on the way, reclaiming the farmers’ grain that had been plundered from them. Narasimha Reddy, whose stories are folklore in the Rayalaseema region, did evoke fear in the British and escaped arrest for a long time, leading a few successful campaigns as well. (You don’t put the severed head of a leader on display for three decades, unless he has done something tremendously great. So, sure, the Britishers did loathe him.)
The movie sadly doesn’t give itself the opportunity to go beyond the Wikipedia information to explore the social conditions – blame it on the oft-beaten theme that most of us barely find British cruelty of those times novel. Distressed farmers, children crying for food, men burnt alive or hanged, villages pillaged, British accent, ruthless power, the stereotypical Indians loyalist to the Company officers while praising the Indian heroes – all of these are tropes the average moviegoer knows like the back of his hand.
Narasimha Reddy himself doesn’t really shine through – yes, he saves people, makes horses listen to him, and is generally kind, but once again, his character arc becomes a classic stereotype. Tamannaah (as Lakshmi) gets a meaty role as a dancer who is in love with Narasimha Reddy. Just when you wonder whether she was a mere showpiece, the scriptwriters give her role an important twist. Her contribution, coupled with the nod to tribal women battling alongside Narasimha Reddy, show how our filmmakers are trying (albeit not so convincingly) to course-correct from their patriarchal mindset.
Nayanthara plays Siddhamma, the protagonist’s wife, the two married as children and then kept away for decades because of astrology, before being brought together when the elders decide. Things like that make you wonder how even celebrated men of the times were part of enormously entrenched patriarchal systems of yore. Nayanthara’s role is largely about being the dutiful wife who adores her husband, while being decked in heavy clothing and ornamentation. Oh yes, and for a childbirth scene exactly when there is enemy at the gates and cannon blasting through the ramparts of the fort. We have a penchant for earth-shattering drama, don’t we?
The second half of the movie is predominantly one battle scene after the other shot with enormous creative liberties. It is hard to imagine our history completely ignored battles of the scale depicted in the movie. This is where it is hard for the common viewer to draw lines between reality and myth. You may read a little more on Narasimha Reddy’s rebellion here and make your own judgment on whether it was an armed rebellion of peasants (which is the storyline the movie maintains for long parts) or the first unsung battle of independence (which is how the movie ends).
The stellar cast of the movie barely leaves any scope for the likes of Amitabh Bachchan (insignificant role) and Vijay Sethupathy (wasted) to make a dent. But the character that really stands out for its complex shades is that of Avuku Raju, done brilliantly by Sudeep. The movie springs several plot surprises, interesting ones too, that prevent the story from turning into a completely predictable bore. Jagapathi Babu as always stands out amongst the support cast. However, the drama – some of it apocryphal, the whole charade of following the tradition of lighting a lamp on the hill, for example – takes away from the real story.
Chiranjeevi as the venerated central character shows he has screen presence and can own the frames. The movie uses numerous action scenes to further his legend (even though by now most of us can make out the difference between the hero and the stunt double). Nevertheless, kudos to Greg Powell, Lee Whittaker and Ram-Laxman for pulling off spectacular stunts, smooth, stylish and non-monotonous despite the excessive usage of freeze-frames and slow-mos.
The cinematography by Rathnavelu too ensures that the grandeur of the movie – whether in the night battle scenes or in the peremptory festival celebration songs – sparkles through. The BGM/songs are not really breathtaking but average; that’s a disappointment considering it was someone of the stature of Amit Trivedi along with Julius Packiam who was entrusted with the task. However, one would have hoped for better dialogues for a hero known for his versatile acting prowess. The ending monologue is soulless despite the opportunity to leave us with lasting dialogues.
Thankfully, really thankfully, the movie doesn’t overdo the climax – the public hanging of Narasimha Reddy. Part of the reason is that the movie constantly betrays a paranoia of becoming too long to be interesting. That explains the patchy editing too. All this saved time is drained into building the heroism and slow-mo stunts of the protagonist – enjoyable but not novel in any way.
Surender Reddy’s could-have-been magnum opus, all in all, is not boring. It goes up and down, blows hot and cold. Yet, for the kind of budget it had, the movie’s storytelling and narrative threads leave a lot to be desired. The screenplay isn’t a bad job but somewhere there is a lack of clarity as to what it wanted to become – a war movie or a social period nationalistic drama. I had wondered at one point if the director would have the courage to give it a Tarantino-esque anti-history twist as in Inglourious Basterds.
Chiranjeevi still remains a man who can helm a magnanimous tale but unless our writing goes deeper and becomes more layered, we will be stuck with superficially slick and intellectually mediocre projects such as these.
Disclaimer: This review was not paid for or commissioned by anyone associated with the series/film. TNM Editorial is independent of any business relationship the organisation may have with producers or any other members of its cast or crew.