Amaran (Telugu) Review

Most military dramas celebrate valour and bravery with grand, cinematic gestures: play-by-play breakdowns of surgical strikes (Uri, 2019), or stories of fearless soldiers sacrificing their lives for the country (Major, 2022). But few go deeper, crossing over into the homes of military families or venturing behind enemy lines to capture a fuller, more intimate picture of war. Amaran comes the closest to doing that, telling real-life the story of Major Mukundan Varadarajan (Sivakarthikeyan), the leader of the 44 Rashtriya Rifles - a counter-terrorism unit of the Indian Army stationed in Kashmir. While Mukundan's acts of courage earn him the Ashok Chakra, Amaran goes beyond battlefield glory to reveal a life shaped by constant sacrifice.

To be sure, Amaran has the kind of over-the-top dramatic moments expected in a military-action drama. Mukundan's first big act of bravery sees him nabbing Altaf Baba (Shyrush Zutshi), a notorious local terrorist. Right before he pulls the trigger on Altaf, Mukundan announces, "This is the face of the Indian Army." For extra flair, he calls his commander (Rahul Bose) and, with him listening on the other end, fires a "confirmation shot" into the body.

More theatrical flourishes follow: a convoy of soldiers singing a spirited Tamil song on the way to an operation, a rescue pulled off just as an Indian spy is about to be executed, and soldiers teaching Kashmiri children English grammar while grateful parents watch. G V Prakash's score swelling insistently throughout - sometimes a bit too heavy-handed - amplifies emotions that are already clear on screen.

But beyond the Army battlegrounds, Amaran also recognizes the silent wars fought on the home front. For Mukundan's wife, Indu Rebecca Verghese (Sai Pallavi), his absence is nearly as painful as the fleeting moments she has with him before he's gone again. In one heart-wrenching scene, she and their child wait a year to see him, only to have 40 minutes together at the airport before he leaves for another deployment. If the fear of death isn't enough, it's these long, lonely stretches that families must bear, and the film gives this facet of a soldier's life its due. Grounding the glamour, there are also realistic discussions of Mukundan's salary and loans.

Most unexpectedly, though, the film gives space to the perspective of the militant groups. We see young separatists throwing stones at military convoys, highlighting the on-the-ground support militants often receive. In one poignant scene, throngs of mourners gather as the body of a slain militant leader (killed by Mukundan) is returned. By showing the humanity of the enemy rather than a faceless evil, Amaran goes further than most to depict a fuller picture of the conflict.

Sivakarthikeyan as Mukundan transforms seamlessly from a tough military man into a tender family man, his softer edges revealed in scenes with his wife and daughter. But it's Sai Pallavi who brings the heart, grounding the story in raw emotion. In the final scenes, where she must put on a brave face and honour her husband's wishes about remaining stoic in the face of any news, she truly shines.

Amaran may be far from a realistic or balanced view of the Kashmir-India conflict, often taking its theatrics too far - like the harrowing scene where Indu hears her husband's convoy under attack while on the phone with him. But, as mentioned, rather than being solely an ode to a superhuman soldier, it also glimpses the anxieties of a military family. Had Amaran been only about Mukundan's military career, it might have been a monotonous sequence of heroic feats. But by focusing on Indu, on Mukundan's parents, and on Indu's father, who warns her against marrying an Army man, the film offers a more complete picture of what it means to be a soldier: equal parts bravery and heartbreak.