Pushpa 2: The Rule Review

Pushpa Raj is undoubtedly one of the more iconic characters in recent Indian cinema. A day labourer who rises to lead a red sandalwood smuggling operation called the Syndicate, Pushpa is a force to be reckoned with. Sukumar, the mastermind behind this cultural phenomenon, excels at character creation, and he doesn't stop at just crafting a cheeky, colourful, sharp-tongued protagonist.

Pushpa: The Rise (2021) also introduced a memorable set of antagonists: Bhawar Singh Shekawat, the bald, psychotic cop obsessed with nabbing Pushpa; Mangalam Srinu, the slick former Syndicate head; his tough, pan-chewing wife (played by a fiesty Anasuya Bharadwaj), who constantly criticizes him for failing to protect her brother from Pushpa; and Molleti Mohan (Ajay), the stepbrother who torments young Pushpa for being an illegitimate child.

In the sequel, Pushpa 2: The Rule, Sukumar resurrects this bevy of rivals, but rather than move them around his chessboard deftly, he sticks them in various nooks and crannies of his meandering plot, demoting them into spectators of the one-man "Allu Arjun as Pushpa Raj" show. As the film's theme song goes, it's simply all about "Pushpa Pushpa Pushpa Pushpa... Pushpa Pushpa Pushpa Pushpa".

At least some of the movie's indulgences may be a boldfaced bid to repeat the first film's eye-watering success, particularly in Northerns parts of India, where Pushpa's hypermasculine swagger, his gestures and one-liners were whole-heartedly embraced and adopted into pop culture. In "The Rule", every inch of Pushpa gets upscaled, his physical changes reflecting his far-reaching reign over his smuggling operation. Pushpa's hair is thicker, longer; his shirts more psychedelically-coloured; and his body dripping in gold rings and thick watches all of which rattle as he shakes his hand in a new signature gesture. His literal heaviness also echoes in his voice, made denser by his paan-stuffed cheeks. (Shall we call him "Paan-India Star"?)

Heaviest of all traits, though, is Pushpa's irreverent attitude. Which is put on display so incessantly, that the film often feels like a gushing hagiography of this fictional hero. Pushpa's rivals, in contrast, become such diminutive figures, pushed to the sidelines of the story. The thrill of true rivalry that we glimpsed in "The Rise" is missing. Mangalam Srinu, a figure so menacing in the first film, turns, strangely enough, into a hype man. For a brief time, SP Shekawat looms like a well-matched adversary, a character that Fahaad Faasil brings to life with menacingly dancing eyes, only to be repeatedly turned into a buffoon.

One of the more inspired ideas in the movie is the way it explores Pushpa's feminine side - a facet of personality that gets amplified in the most literal terms when he dresses as a woman and performs an Ammoru dance ritual at a jathara. On its own, this sequence where Pushpa bares his vulnerabilities would have been emotionally resonant. But the plot wastefully co-opts this gorgeous visual motif to vault itself into a rather trite sub-plot where, like any conventional hero of the last two decades, Pushpa rescues a woman from being assaulted and, in doing so, redeems himself. Similarly Pushpa's unusual emphasis on being a devoted husband to Srivalli and a real softie at heart does not feel entirely authentic.

One big consolation - perhaps the biggest - is that there's truly no one better suited to play Pushpa than Allu Arjun. He's fully immersed in the role, completely dedicated to his increasingly complex interiority of his character. He's the reason we buy into so much of what Pushpa is "selling", even when the character's arc takes some bewildering turns. Throughout the film, we watch Allu Arjun switch effortlessly between being the action hero on the job and a soft teddy bear at home. We see him break down in tears, then ferociously bite into grown men, and somehow it all feels believable.

Rashmika Mandanna truly shines in her standout moment - a crowded scene in which she delivers a series of ultimatums to grown men squabbling about family names. It is a satisfying scene that highlights her growing confidence as an actor. Fahaad Faasil, though, looks quite lost in the violently shifting tone of his character, looking as if he is torn between whether to portray Shekawat as a forceful presence or a total loser.

The film's soundtrack is a bit of a mixed bag, with some half-hearted filler tracks like Kisik, the item number featuring Srileela doing steps she could probably do in her sleep, and more genuine, heartfelt songs like Sooseki.

With Sukumar's talent for writing witty repartee and subtle comedy, Pushpa 2 tries to keep the momentum going, even as the story itself often gets swallowed up by the weight of its protagonist's growing legend. The upgrades in Pushpa's style and the upscaled sets are obvious, but the thin plot gets buried along the way. As sequels go, Pushpa 2 feels like a transitional film where much of the meat of the story is punted into the future, saved for Pushpa 3: "The Rampage".

Pushpa, as he likes to say, isn't just a flower - he's fire. Not just fire, but wildfire. And not just a flower, fire or wildfire - he's a brand. But building and maintaining a brand feels more like the contrived labour of a corporation than the raw, imaginative craft of storytelling.