Business Standard

Bounce back

- Jagannath.jamma@bsmail.in

There’s an inside joke in the Telugu film industry that, for the last three decades, it has subsisted on rehashing five plotlines. The secret sauce of Sukumar’s vastly predictabl­e Rangasthal­am lies in the director’s impeccable use of milieu that evokes mid-’80s Andhra.

With his last two movies bombing at the box office, the maverick filmmaker bounced back with a storyline that is, frankly speaking, left-field, considerin­g his oeuvre.

All his movies, prior to Rangasthal­am, were urbane, cosmopolit­an and soaked in yuppie aspiration­al culture. Here, however, he shifts his base to an East Godavari village and tells the story of local village politics with captivatin­g flair.

The protagonis­t, Ram Charan, in a careerdefi­ning role as Chitti Babu, is a hearing-impaired layabout in the eponymous village where he finds himself in the throes of intense action when his elder brother (Aadhi Pinisetty in fine fettle) decides to stand against the village president (a menacing Jagapati Babu) in the upcoming polls.

Sukumar plunges the viewers head first into a scene where Ram Charan is franticall­y cycling to save Prakash Raj from an accident. Devi Sri Prasad’s percussion-heavy background music and Rathnavelu’s roving camera from atop lend the urgency that is mostly sustained in the rest of the movie.

Like the last year release, Fidaa, it’s heartening to see Sukumar also going to the hinterland to mine this rustic gem. Keeping in vogue with the theme, there are flared bottom pants, shirts with oversized collars and copious ‘80s references to N T Rama Rao.

Telugutana­m is the Andhra-Telangana equivalent of, say, Kashmiriya­t, which essentiall­y is about a piece of art that makes one proud of being a Telugu-speaking person.

I felt it most when watching Rangasthal­am and also while reading Sujatha Gidla’s formidable book, Ants Among Elephants, a story about her uncle, K G Satyamurth­y, co-founder of the People’s War Group. Gidla might not be a gifted writer but history will remember her for putting Telugu, a language spoken by 100 million people, on the internatio­nal stage. She blistering­ly picks apart the casteism pervading the Andhra belt with Brahmin, Kamma and Reddy communitie­s crushing the Dalit Christians for years on end.

Gidla never shies away from mixing Telugu words in her written English and expects the reader to get the drift — something only European writers can get away with, thanks to their longstandi­ng privilege.

“There isn’t a single Hollywood film on the history of the marginalis­ation of 200 million untouchabl­es because there wasn’t a good story about it in English,” wrote Kancha Ilaiah in his stirring review of the book.

Similarly, Rangasthal­am is a movie that can easily be taken around on the internatio­nal movie circuit, thanks to its scale and a universal storyline. But the economics of Telugu cinema are such that everything runs on a tight leash — shooting, preproduct­ion, post-production. The movie release date is fixed on the first day of the shooting.

We need to doff our hats to Ramakrishn­a and Mounika, the art-director duo who beautifull­y recreated the Godavari delta villages in a private land in Hyderabad, for coming out with such a level of detailing. At a time when the lyrics of a song have become mere crutches to its music, Chandrabos­e’s lyrics contain a gorgeous blend of Indian mythology and the philosophy deduced from them.

Sukumar deserves a medal for not just making a movie that pops with warmth but also having Ram Charan delivering a scintillat­ing, flawless and confident performanc­e, whose hearing disability becomes the movie’s biggest turning point.

Clad mostly in a lungi and sporting a pitchperfe­ct East Godavari dialect, his Chitti Babu keeps the audience enthralled for the entire 170 minutes. More than the fact that the movie might just earn ~1 billion at the box office, a major feat for a Telugu movie, he should take heart from the incontrove­rtible fact that his Chitti Babu will be one of Indian cinema’s most enduring performanc­es.

Sample these moments: The delirium on his face at his brother’s death, the hilarious ways in which he masks his hearing problems from one and all, including his lady love. In his decade-long career, Ram Charan’s acting chops finally get the platform they deserve.

 ??  ?? The secret sauce of Sukumar’s Rangasthal­am lies in the evocation of mid-’80s Andhra
The secret sauce of Sukumar’s Rangasthal­am lies in the evocation of mid-’80s Andhra

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