Rishab Shetty’s latest hit which has garnered everyone’s praise and attention since its release talk about the age-old land ownership issue relying heavily on the significance of folklore.
Kantara, asks its audience, who owns the land? The people, the landlord, or the king. Or nobody, as the Almighty is eternal (or nature itself). The screenplay, which jumps from 1847 through 1970 to 1990, is also characterized by this threefold conflict. The fundamental issue that gave rise to the entire drama was a restless king who yearned for contentment.
A strong king looks everywhere for solace in 1847. He eventually finds it in a tiny statue in the woods. One condition, according to a man possessed by the almighty, is that the king must give the peasants a sizable share of the land in order to own it. 1970-time skip shows that although the peasants still own title to the land, the king's descendant, a landlord, has grown avaricious and has threatened to usurp the property by legal means. A few days later, the deity refuses the land to the landlord but his ignorance of the deity’s words leads him to pass away on the court stairs, blood gushing from his mouth. In 1990 a peaceful village with a kind landowner, and Shiva (Shetty), a carefree young man who doesn't pay any attention to the past exists. However, Murali (Kishore), a rookie forest officer, is unaffected by regional conventions and considers the villagers to be encroachers and wants to re-establish the laws that protect the forest.
Kantara, like its theme, is a juggernaut. The yearly Kambala celebration, which features darting buffaloes, the Bhoota Kola festival, and the locals' wild boar hunts are all local traditions. Its cameras sway, and its colors shout. With rain whipping the dense forest, fire torches slashing the ominous darkness, and the camera swooping down the rural terrain, the Rishab Shetty directorial is an intriguing visual feast.
When concentrating on Shiva, Kantara succeeds, but when presenting the other characters, it fails. For instance, Murali, a cop just doing his job, is portrayed as a needless villain. His severe lack of complexity and inner life makes him appear like a stereotype and closes all possibilities for interaction. Since he turns out to be a good guy, it feels even more bizarre. Even the landlord's role reversal—a supposedly decent guy turned nasty—fails to shock or surprise because Shetty doesn't do a good job of hiding his terrible intents. Shiva's relationships with these individuals, especially his relative Guruva (Swaraj Shetty), the god incarnate in the Bhoota Kala celebration who is eventually killed, don't seem to be very strong.
Because of this, its lengthy middle segment struggles to inspire a moving response. However, In the final 30 minutes, when Shiva learns the truth about Guruva's death paired with the movie's greatest asset—dazzling set pieces—it regains its vitality and emotional impact. Its own three-act structure—betrayal, resolution, and beginning—is a thing of beguiling beauty in its final arc. You want more as the devices come back, dripping blood, swishing sickles, and popping eyes.
The cinematography of Arvind Kashyap is so confident and dynamic that it also serves as a performance. A fight scene that was shot in a puddle on a rainy night had a quick camera movement that turned the frame upside down and emphasized the violent dance. These instances highlight Kantara's most ringing message: that even a kind ruler can still be a ruler and that stolen rights will be recovered. As it contradicts the cause of the intergenerational conflict—an unhappy man seeking inner peace—this climax fury likewise reeks of cyclical irony.
The portrayal of a rural youngster from the 1990s is ideally suited to Kannada actor Rishab Shetty. The final segments highlight his excellent performance. In the last 25 minutes, his acting is simply outstanding. Kishore does a fantastic job as the forest officer. Another superb performance is given by Achyuth Kumar as the feudal lord. The female lead, Sapthami Gowda's character is bound by sexism which makes her acting satisfactory in terms of Leela's portrayal.
Ajaneesh Loknath's music and background score perfectly match the camera work. It was a risk to employ western instruments in several moments showing Indian celebrations, but it worked out nicely. It's easy to forget you're seeing a movie in a different area of the country because of how readily the score transports you into the myths, culture, and atmosphere of the setting where Kantara is located.
Kantara is evidence that the earthy, rooted folk tales from India have the ability to be adapted into riveting cinema, much like Sohum Shah's Tumbbad some four years ago. In actuality, Kantara strengthens Tumbbad's legacy. even if it was praised by everyone who witnessed it. Only 13 crores were made by Tumbbad at the box office. Meanwhile, Kantara is rapidly approaching the 400 crore milestone. It is a significant movie that motivates filmmakers to tell a compelling and original story.
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