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Kanguva Review: Its Intent On Being The Tamil Baahubali And KGF Remains Untapped

kanguva In addition to utilising the immense charm of its star, Suriya, and the ambitious merging of two timelines separated by a thousand years, Kanguva seeks to harness the power of the elements—fire, water, and wind. There is nothing wrong with that, of course, but if the writing and treatment had been more structured and cohesive, the building blocks would have fit together much better.

Even though Star does as expected, Kanguva barely survives the fantasy epic’s best efforts to rely on a combination of the actor’s charisma, the buzz generated by the exploits of warriors from a bygone era, and the expansive visual grandeur that cinematographer Vetri Palanisamy conjures up.

The first half hour of Siva’s Tamil-language film, which she wrote and directed, is as incredibly shoddy as any half-hour of cinema we have ever seen. Nothing is in order, whether it is the shrill pitching of the delivery, the cliched acting, the weak attempts at humour, or the banal dialogue.
   
This section provides a haphazard and mercifully brief overview of three modern-day bounty hunters who assist law enforcement in apprehending slick criminals. Francis Theodore (Suriya) and his robust, chubby sidekick Colt 95 (Yogi Babu) flee for their lives after one of them is killed on a boat in Goa.

The shoddy prelude takes the film nowhere and tells us next to nothing about the characters who romp about on the screen and yell at each other at the top of their voices. The shrillest of them all is Angela (Disha Patani), Francis’ girlfriend-turned-rival moneygrubber.

When all appears lost—when the Romans, traitors, and enemies lie in wait on the island of Arathi, which is under the vice-like control of Uthiran (Bobby Deol)—Konguva helps his people fight their way out of trouble. Twenty-five thousand soldiers of a Roman army are waiting to attack the islanders, seeking a remote area for the training of their men.

Colt 95 is meant to provide comic relief. Angela exists because the screenplay needs somebody who can inject meaningless romantic diversion into the proceedings. Neither of them accomplishes the desired outcome.

While Kanguva’s opening minutes set the tone for the rest of the film, once it dives into the past—the year is 1070 AD and beyond—and follows the actions of the tribal inhabitants of five islands that are united by language but violently at odds with one another in terms of what each one represents, Kanguva shows a noticeable improvement (at last with regard to imagery and intensity).

Kanguva (Suriya), the prince and main warrior of Perumaachi Island, is the male lead in this story. Their land is lust green, and the Perumanathans worship fire. Death is worth it for this island. However, the hero is not thinking about dying.

Twenty-five thousand soldiers from a Roman army searching for a remote area to train their men are waiting to attack the islanders. Konguva helps his people fight their way out of trouble when everything seems to be at stake—these people always seem to be hanging on by a thread as the Romans, traitors, and enemies lie in wait on the island of Arathi, which is under the vice-like control of Uthiran (Bobby Deol).

Kanguva does not require assistance from anyone. He is an unstoppable one-man army and a force of nature. And once he sets a goal for himself, nothing and no one can stop him. He compares himself to streams that flow past the largest rocks in their path and to trees in a forest that are unaffected by the winds.

It is not just what he says about himself and how a God-like voiceover introduces him to the audience ahead of his grand entry scene; it is also background songs that provide elucidation on his inner thoughts. But do not let that fool you; the music in Kanguva is anything but subtle. It is at best a distraction that the film would have done well to dial down.
  
The film’s sound design definitely needed much more thought and work, as did the characterisation. Kanguva and every other character on the screen are denied the freedom to form themselves into rounded shapes.

It is surprising that the screenwriters did not think it necessary to provide the protagonist with more information than the general contours that he is boxed into, considering the sheer force that Suriya exerts on the title character.

When a desperate orphan boy cries out for assistance, the film’s greatest lost opportunity concerns the aspect of the adventurous warrior that represents a “maternal” nourisher. In Kanguva, the masculine is about to give way to a person who ‘weans’ a motherless boy in addition to protecting him (by, if necessary, killing a crocodile with his bare hands).

However, that important element of the narrative is permitted to fade into a tangle of preventable clichés. That is because Kanguva isn’t looking to steer clear of the familiar. It is intent on being the Tamil Baahubali and KGF. And that is its undoing. The immense potential of the core idea of dealing with the past and present as a seamless continuum remains largely untapped.

Of course, a bulk of the film plays out in the past, which probably is just as well. The present-day scenes are a terribly patchy parody of science fiction, full-on action movie heroism, and heartfelt emotional appeals.

The eleventh century and 2024 alternate throughout the climax. In both, the hero is on a quest to vanquish an enemy. Unfortunately, instead of being a real threat, the antagonist in the past is a stodgy caricature.

In his first appearance in Tamil, Bobby Deol is expected to occupy the entire screen in the brief time he is on it. But like a lot of other things in the movie, he is left vying for attention and space because there is so much going on around him.

Suriya, who plays two roles, is the centre of attention. His ancient avatar performs infinitely better than the modern one. That sums up the entire movie: The past has a significant impact on the present in multiple ways, making Kanguva feel like two distinct films.

The star’s amazing on-screen persona makes Kanguva an even more stunning visual experience. This movie would have been well worth the upcoming sequel if the script had included more than just the visceral and sensory.

Kanguva gives numerous indications that there will be follow-up. Do we need to get excited? “We are heading for a great future,” someone declares in the movie’s closing moments. Are we? If the writing is similar, then no.
 

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