Balakrishna is a decent actor if you consider his films from the Aditya 369 period. Back then, there was an actor, a supporting cast, a story and a crew that came together to make the film cinema-ready. Years went by. Now, Balakrishna - or more famously, Balayya - films are more about the actor's mannerisms than the story itself. Many of you must have seen
Akhanda, a critically panned film that nevertheless became a huge hit. Most reviewers did not think the film would even break even, but it surprised everyone with its commercial success.
Now, we have Akhanda 2: Thaandavam, which takes the original story forward. This time, too, many critics will lambast the film. And this time, too, it might become a hit - in fact, perhaps an even bigger hit than the original. It may all not make much sense - but then again, neither do most recent Balayya films.
You should really first
read the review of the original film by
T J Reddy, so that I can save some space here. Repeating everything again makes little sense when it is already available to read, and in a far more engaging way. For the most part, this film feels like it is piggybacking on Akhanda. The only additions are some jingoistic ideas, and unfortunately, they are what actually make this film worse.
So this time, the Chinese army wants to destroy India. The Chinese strategist (Saswata Chatterjee) is of the opinion that destroying sanatana dharma is the only way to destroy India. So he devises a biowarfare (speading virus) operation against India, and selects the Maha Kumbh Mela as the starting point to spread chaos across the nation. There's panic everywhere as it starts, and the Indian Prime Minister instructs the DRDO to develop an antidote immediately. And the DRDO creates one successfully. But then the Chinese and a crooked Indian politican start efforts to destroy the vaccine and the scientists. And Akhanda (Balayya) steps in to save the day.
Akhanda 2 is akin to an
MSG movie but with better production quality. The convicted godman, now serving a jail term, had created four MSG movies, all rated between 0 and 3 by almost every reviewer in India. However, all those films were major successes because his followers - numbering in the lakhs - made it a vow to watch them multiple times, often with their entire families.
Balayya is of course nothing like that man, but the theatre I went to was likewise housefull with his devotees. Though the movie began with S Thaman's thunderous background score, I could barely hear the BGM, because the chants of "Jai Balayya" were overpowering the background score. It took rather long for all to settle.
If you have watched superhero movies by DC and Marvel, you know that while their characters possess superhuman capabilities, they are also placed in situations where they face defeat, heartbreak, and even public disapproval. They have emotional arcs - that's why you empathise with them, and that's what makes a movie a movie. But Lord Balayya's world is different. As Akhanda 2 progresses, you don't see any of the three characters he enacts undergoing any vulnerability or experiencing any ups and downs. All of them are all-powerful, always wearing the demeanour of ultra-aggressive Hindutva saint-warriors. Whenever they show up - which is quite often - they almost invariably play to the gallery.
And when they play to the gallery they often preach their worldview: that India is, in fact, a Vishwaguru; that Hindu sanatana dharma is what makes India what it is, and that if Hinduism is removed from the hearts of the people, the country will collapse.
There is nothing wrong with that. What's problematic is the way they substantiate it using circular reasoning, which is a logical fallacy. Circular reasoning often serves to justify many holier-than-thou attitudes across religions and cultures. To give a Biblical example, God exists because the Bible says so, and we know the Bible is true because it is the revealed word of God.
And again, when they play to the gallery, the gathering is discernibly full of Telugu-speaking people, yet Akhanda always ends his sermon with one last English punchline. For example, ending a conversation with a government official, Akhanda says, "You do your duty, I work 24x7, we are not the same," and when talking to an Army officer, he Akhanda says, "You work for the country, I work for dharma, we are not the same." I don't know what high a final English punchline provides.
Having said that about how Balayya is portrayed and behaves in this movie, let's move on to the other aspects of the film - which, given the amount of Balayya shenanigans on display, actually form a much smaller part of it.
The movie screams out loud (yes, that's redundant phrasing) that the director has no proper understanding of the distinctions between nation, country and state; religion, ethics and morality; history, fiction and mythology; and reality, perception and make-believe. Many things that happen and are uttered in the movie are nothing more than surface-scratching rhetoric.
In one sequence, a teenage scientist invents - rather unconvincingly - a bioshield that helps Indian forces operate in difficult terrains, from the freezing heights of Kargil to the scorching deserts of Rajasthan. The Prime Minister is impressed, meets her, and asks how she pulled it off. She replies that she gained the knowledge from the Ramayana. That's it - and the frame abruptly shifts to something else.
In another sequence, meant to establish continuity from the original, Akhanda ascends to the peak of Mount Kailash and performs sadhana in one of its caves. Time passes, ice covers him completely - almost like Mike Myers (in the movie Austin Powers: International Man Of Mystery) trapped in a cryogenic chamber for half a century. Then, when the scientist is in danger, he bursts out of the ice cave with full power and wrath.
And about that teenage scientist: when she supposedly creates a vaccine for the Chinese virus, she announces it while peering into a microscope, accompanied by tacky graphics showing one unicellular organism killing another. Except that the microscope is a basic one, and viruses are 60 to 140 nanometres each, with millions of them capable of being fitted onto just the tip of a needle.
Akhanda is also shown performing feats at distant locations telepathically through magical powers. Yet, during fights, he relies on modern ammunition. With godly powers, one could do anything instantly just like that - so why modern weapons? I could go on and on, listing the many mistakes and inconsistencies in the movie. But if logic were applied, the theatres would be empty.
In addition to all that, the film also peddles lavish praise for India's current administration and its supremo, often giving credit where it isn't due. Apparently what truly concerns the PM of our democracy is only upholding sanatana dharma. Throw the "separation of religion from administration" out of the window.
To conclude, without any coherent story, this talk-heavy and action-heavy movie ends with a good-versus-evil climax, where the good is Hindu-Sanatani-India and the bad is non-Hindu, non-Sanatani, and the Other. And this message isn't meant to merely reach your ears - the movie tries hard to shovel it down your throat.
So, what's good? The answer is Balayya himself. He is in his absolute form as Akhanda and blasts the screen. You've never seen Balayya this ferocious - or this convincing - in such a ferocious avatar. And imagine a trio of Balayyas doing this. It's an absolute treat, even for non-Balayya audiences.
Forget the movie, the art of filmmaking, the story, the sensibility, the truth, perception and reality. Balayya overdoes it all and single-handedly turns the film into a mass fest. The effort he has put in at his age is truly awe-inspiring.
Technicalities? Barring a few CGI glitches - especially the Nandi - the movie is a visual treat. The BGM in the second half is superb. The production is rich, glossy, and almost flawless. I only wish it didn't have songs, because the songs actually diminished the Balayya effect to a small degree.
A must-watch for every Balayya fan. And OTT fare for others.