Kabzaa (Kannada) Review

Upendra is called "Real" Indian Star, so I'll keep it REAL honest and tell you right away that Kabzaa is the biggest steaming pile of garbage I've seen in a long while. And I've seen Gaalodu and Cocaine Bear, both of which I consider now to be masterpieces in comparison. I heard a child shriek at some point in the second half when things got truly unbearable. Or maybe it was my inner voice, I don't know. The only reason I didn't walk out was the sense of duty I felt about warning you, dear reader, to maintain at least a 500 m distance from any theatre playing this movie.

Okay, I know I'm being overdramatic, but you would be too if you had to sit through this cacophonous crap. Kabzaa starts intriguingly enough - a newly-appointed police commissioner, Bakshi (Sundeep Kiccha), narrates a story to a throng of goondas. It's about a freedom fighter who dies at the hands of the British, leaving his wife and two young sons to seek refuge in a faraway town called Amarapuram. The chubby kids - Arkeshwara (Upendra) and Sankeshwara - grow up to be fine men. Arka even has a secret romance with Amarapuram's princess Madhumathi (Shriya Saran). But a family tragedy turns Arka into a sort of underworld don who takes control of Amarapuram.

Thereafter, the movie is just one fight after another, told in KGF's visual language - high-contrast shots, gritty settings, grimy faces, soot everywhere - with no regard for context or story, or for that matter, the IQ of its audience. Sometimes the scenes are set in what looks like California's Death Valley but other times it is Downtown London during the Great Smog of 1952.

This hodgepodge of genres and eras had me scratching my head about whether Kabzaa was set in a parallel universe. My brain short-circuited trying to figure out why Madhumathi introduces herself to her father as "putrika" and acts and dresses like she is on the sets of Baahubali. While elsewhere, her lover Arka shoots Kalashnikovs and slices men's necks with great relish. Adding to the disorientation are Arka's many enemies - Daaka, Khaleed, Bangera, Malik - who are fighting to take back control of South India (??). One of them dresses like the Jabari Chieftain from Wakanda and has the word CRUEL tattooed across his face.

As the second half settles into an assortment of disjointed fight scenes punctuated only by drone shots of convoys snaking down deserted roads, it is clear that writer-director R Chandru lacks the talent for storytelling. Most of the story is conveyed through background narration - a jumble of names and backstories you will try to keep track of until you realize these are just farcical excuses for tamping on unnecessary fights. While there may be no such thing as a tasteful beheading scene, those in Kabzaa (three such scenes) are distinctly off-putting, more reminiscent of Jihadi propaganda videos than slick action thrillers.

Amid the overwhelming anguish that I felt during this movie, I had space for just one other emotion - pity. Pity for all the fine actors thrust into this hack job. Shriya Saran just about manages to pull it off as Madhumati because she can emote for days. Murali Sharma who plays her father looks distracted - like he searching for the exit hatch. As for the headliner, Upendra, even though every shot is written to maximize his screen presence, the movie's over-the-top production and art design drown him out. And the chemistry he shares with Shriya is somewhere on the spectrum of a sibling to a son.

At some point in the movie-watching experience, a numbness took over and I resigned myself to the fact that I didn't have the luxury to just walk out, as so many in my theatre did. Minor instances of brain damage are the occupational hazards of my job. I knew it when I signed up. I can't complain now.