Logical critics, under the bad influence of, how do I say this, brains, will write Bahubali off. Beware! With no respect for misogyny and patriarchy that binds most of us together, no regard for expensive graphics and sets and production costs, they would nitpick and continue to criticize. Don’t listen to them. What they don’t understand is that Bahubali is rewriting history, scientific history.
It’s remarkably revolutionary how a postcard picture of a princess turns into a life size poster in nano seconds, sans Photoshop, how a boat magically becomes a plane with its sails turning into wings, causing much complex to Aamir Khan’s bike-cum-submarine in Dhoom 3. It’s incredible to see how Palm trees, turn into giant catapults, slinging army men over the tall walls of a palace. Damn Load. Damn Effort. Damn Fulcrum. Damn elasticity. Bahubali rocks.
He is capable of everything. He doesn’t pluck flowers. He plucks trees. When banished from the royal palace, he becomes a mazdoor, an engineer, an architect. He even trains young kids in wrestling, Dangal Part 2, causing a huge complex to Aamir yet again.
These silly reviewers will even tom-tom about the horrors of gender equality and throw their feminism around. Beware. The plot of the film is based on a simple demand of a young prince who wants to get married to a princess. He innocently demands in two words, mujhe chaiye. And the mother replies, Devasena tumhari huyi. She leaps lavish gold and gifts at the princess to win (buy) her. How generous!
Things go wrong when we find, Devasena, a feisty princess, has a mind of her own and a sharp tongue too. She turns down the queen’s offer in the harshest words, making it clear that she would have a say in the partner she chooses. What cheek. Chi! She behaves as if she is a human being with feelings and freedom! Hmph.
Bahubali scores high on plotting. There is eavesdropping, mean scheming and dirty planning. You see there is a reason why K soaps are a rage in our country.
The reviewers won’t have a good word to spare for the amazing performances as well. Beware. It’s disheartening that they can’t see the magic of one expression. Prabhas is forever smiling, Ramya is forever horrified (ah! Those big bulging eyes!) and Rana Dagubatti grits his teeth like he has been fed karele ki sabzi. Sorry, that’s not right. Karele ki sabzi evokes a variety of emotions and expressions.
The action sequences in the film are fabulous. It’s like Rohit Shetty’s and Prabhu Deva’s films on steroids.
The film’s dialogues here earn a special mention too. It’s amazing how the script comprises largely of two words; vachan and saugandh. If they earned a dollar every time someone said vachan in the movie, they would have enough budget to make 10 more sequels. Bahu boy has given vachan to Devasani dudette. Mommy Queen has given vachan to Bhalla boy. And most of all our cute Kattappa is bound by both; some vachan to some kingdom and some saugandh, that he would be dutiful unquestionably.
The film ironically ends with yet another vachan where Bahu boy’s vachan is prashaasan. Wow. Amaze balls. Acche din aa gaye.
I know there are lavish sets, great graphics, epic scaling, and detailed costumes. I know it’s a lot of hard work and crazy money is spent. And I would have happily suspended my belief, applauded the impossible, if the film was well written and told, if the characters stayed consistent, if there was some conviction in their actions, if they cut down on melodrama and theatrics, if they paid writers more than the sound effects artists. Sorry. I am just assuming that there were writers. In fact in a scene, Devasena rightly mentions, “Badi badi pratimao se rajya nahi banta, bade dil se banta hain.” Umm ditto for movies!
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