Kantara: Chapter 1 Movie Review — Sucharita Tyagi

Most of us who saw Kantara in 2022 didn’t have an option but to overlook the simplicity of the uneven narrative, because the climax sequence was nothing like we had seen on the big screen before. Seeing Rishab Shetty perform the Bhoota Kola, to put it simply, took our breath away.

3 years later, he is back with more. But as the saying goes, it’s not always better.

Set in 4th century CE, Chapter 1 tells the story of Berme, a young man from the jungles of Kantara, and how earthly live and divinity both lead him toward bringing ancient deities alive. We had met these spirits in the original film; you might recall Panjurli and Guliga. This time however, Berme isn’t a simpleton disconnected with his culture and roots. An extra-long exposition-laden voice-over, about old kings, their greed and battles against the local tribes brings us to the birth of Berme. An adopted baby who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, raised deep in the forests. Simultaneously, you also meet the ancient Royals, who replace the zamindars from the original. Blinded by their power and privilege, the kings have always feuded with tribal communities, and have increased their riches by imposing unfair taxes on spice trade. Portogese and Arabs are on Indian shores buying black pepper, bay leaves, turmeric, turning a profit for generations of evil Bangra Kingdom. They steal from the forests, enslave its people, and are clearly the very image of what a divine power will eventually come down to earth to eradicate.

Residents of Kantara and the Kings of Bangra however, do not know where the most bountiful Eshwara’s Garden of Bloom is where more of this spice comes from. Enter the Kadapa tribe. These even more ferocious people in black face paint dwell even deeper in the forest, and using black magic, have gained control over the garden of bloom, and have managed to misuse the powers of the Daivas to their advantage.

Look, there is a LOT happening in this film, we haven’t even BEGUN to talk about the celestial sub-plot. To bring all of this story to the big screen, Rishab Shetty teams up with production designer Banglan, who crafts deeply researched sets- cities, villages, deep forest, caves- at par with what one might see in bigger productions like Game Of Thrones, Wheel Of Time, Megalopolis. Cinematographer Arvind S Kashyap returns to do justice to the scale and create each frame with a precision that gives the film its transcendental vibe. This isn’t a mere story, this is an epic. A tale for the times, that Chapter 1 is intended to be, requires the camera to look at its subjects with a devotion to make them larger than life, mythical, lionising even the smallest of characters and plot points. There are some chase sequences Rishab Shetty directs in the city market with his immense crew, which should be studied frame by frame for their technical achievements.

As the film expands in scale, however, it rapidly goes haywire in its narrative structure. As too many short stories and sub-plot are piled on top of each other in quick succession, the screenplay begins to sway further and further away from the film’s philosophy. A philosophy that is already buried too deeply underneath the visual splendour on display. In 2022, Rishab’s Shetty’s Shiva had an internal journey that created a deeply satisfying, flawed and humane arc, from a sinner to a man who finds God, it felt straight out of scripture, paying homage to the ancient cultures the film borrowed from. The hero’s journey was more defined, and each time the story meandered, there was a structure that kept bringing it back on-course.

Chapter 1 is too caught up in the trap of going where the audience wants it. In an attempt to meet the viewers’ needs and pander, it stumbles dramatically, drowning in its own mysticism. The insertion of banal unintelligent jokes and hammy comedy seems almost insulting to the technical achievements of the set and cinematography. When we have a literal tiger as a part of this cast, who may be flesh may be a God, what are we adding with extending a sub-plot of a royal guard having an affair with a local shop woman? From the very first scene the film wants to proceed at a break-neck pace, which sets it apart, and hence its hard to understand why it pauses regularly to create comedy scenes around a tough-man who is a laughingstock only because of this short stature. In moments when the film tonally shifts to comedy, it feels most farcical, operating at its least.

Rishab Shetty had said in an interview that the genesis of Kantara was a true story about a conflict between a forest officer and a civilian. “Who owns nature?” was the big question the film tried to answer, concluding that all humans are destined to perish if we dare to assume ownership at all. Chapter 1 doesn’t allow itself to ruminate on philosophical questions. There is no quiet, or breathing space to allow you take in all the things its saying, before moving on to the next big visual, the next set-piece, the next battle (of which there are many).

Instead of indulging in self expression, Rishab Shetty this time indulges in needs of the audience. Despite building on the premise of mystic ancient tribal practices, his focus seems to have shifted to violence, dramatic physical action taking over most of the screenplay. If the Kantara people fighting against the royal army wasn’t quite enough, around the interval mark, he introduces the Kadapa tribe, even more dreaded by the common man. More action sequences ensue, leaving me more confused about what I’m getting from this movie.

For a large portion of its run-time, Kantara: Chapter 1 doesn’t have point to make, unlike its predecessor- except the audience seemed to be waiting for the sequence when Rishab Shetty as Berme turns into Lord Shiva, complete with a trident and a snake. When that moment arrived, it got the most rousing response, making it evident that that is the moment the film wants you to take home. This feels inherently perfidious because Berme turning into an image of a Hindu god hardly connects to the rest of the film, the digression makes little sense.

Gulshan Deviah is one my most favorite performers. In his Kannada debut, he plays the loafer king Kulsekhara, kind of mirroring Shiva from the original. Except Kulashekhara doesnt pay heed to the many opportunities to course correct, drunk with power and literally on alcohol. The character isn’t novel, think “evil king” and the first five things that come to mind. Gulshan is adequate, but his part in Guns and Gulabs had more to offer. His sister, Kanakavathi is played by Rukmini Vasanth is a far more interesting foil to Berme, who is instantly smitten by her beauty, momentarily even forgetting she is from the same family that enslaves his people. Caught between tradition and herown attraction to this rebellious leader, Kanakavathi is at once a cultural ambassador, yet a colonist, but maybe even a reformer?

The films however is designed around Rishab Shetty, who, of course, is a force to be reckoned with. Unlike Shiva, Berme is more deified in this origin story, nary a shade of gray to be found. When the spirit of Guliga does possess him, the actor goes many steps ahead in designing a spectacle for his viewers, Rudra Guliga, Agni Guliga and many others making an appearance. Watching him on a big screen, as that primordial scream resonates around the theatres bouncing off walls entering your body, the experience is electric, presented in a fashion few others have dared to touch. The Bhuta Kola performance is bewitching and some sequences where Berme is just normal human Berme, the action choreography is so majestic you want to stand up and applaud. But as more and more layers are added on, you move farther nad farther away from the baseline enquiry of the film- settlers vs natives, and how slow or rapid does change need to be for customs, practices and native civilisations to survive while acknowledging the need to evolve with the times. Does evil ever really truly change shape? The magic realism that might have provided an answer to this debate, is submerged by the violence.

As the lights came on with the end credits, I realised I had watch the film in a fully packed theatre. I also noticed, and this is no exaggeration, 100% of the occupants there, except me, were men, begging the question, who did the trailer of this film speak to? Go figure it out for yourself, Kantara: Chapter 1 is now in movie theatres. Watch in Kannada if possible!