Roopesh Shetty’s new Tulu and Kannada drama, Jai, arrives like a message from a coastline that has long learned to fight for its own survival. Set in the heart of Coastal Karnataka and told in the flavour of the Tulu dialect, the film captures small-town politics with all its struggles: bridges that don’t exist, hospitals too far to reach, and leaders who know how to smile for a camera but not deliver on their promises. However, due to pacing issues, the story loses some of its impact.
In the heart of this rural political pulse is Satya (Roopesh Shetty), an intelligent, sharp-tongued young man who has grown up believing loyalty is currency. The son of Simhabettu’s school principal (Naveen D Padil), Satya has spent years saying “Jai” to his local strongman, MLA Vishwanath (Raj Deepak Shetty). Satya runs a kabaddi team, leads protests when instructed, and earns rewards for his unquestioned obedience. He is exactly the kind of young men leaders keep close: useful, loyal, and too busy to question authority.
But life in the town starts falling apart. Pregnant women die on the long journeys to distant hospitals. Elderly residents collapse before they can reach care. The situation becomes painfully personal when Satya’s mother faces a problem, and he is helpless. Villagers debate, argue, and curse the lack of a bridge that could have prevented these tragedies. Satya’s friends—Antony, the autorickshaw driver, Damanna, the ambulance driver, and a chorus of local chatterboxes—bring humour and warmth to the narrative. Their banter is the pulse of the village but also a mirror of its helplessness.
The story finds its emotional hinge when Satya’s parents decide he must be engaged to secure his future. Satya, however, is distracted, mostly by TV presenter Shravya (Adhvithi Shetty). Whether she chooses him, or whether he learns the prioritise his life over politics remains a running thread that keeps the narrative light yet meaningful.
The stakes rise when the villagers finally demand what they have been denied: a bridge. What unfolds will feel familiar to anyone who knows coastal politics, where promises arrive at dusk and denials at dawn. The MLA rejects the demand, focusing instead on business deals for a bigger setup, only to return during elections with his entourage, loudspeakers, and a new set of assurances. Then comes the wildcard: Suniel Shetty, playing himself, a celebrity whose words carry surprising weight in rural coastal towns. His entry is brief but meaningful. He explains the importance of voting with clarity, the need for life-saving infrastructure, and the responsibility citizens must demand from their leaders. The film’s sharpest line about leaders treating people as vote-mules and not humans comes through him.
The film works best when it stays rooted in its soil, and deals with the politics of loyalty, the networks of right-hand men, and the activists who realise, often too late, that life is not about living happily alone but about ensuring everyone survives together. Roopesh’s direction is sincere, avoiding the glorification of either the hero or the system. His message is blunt: vote honestly, resist the lure of money or gender politics, and protect the culture that holds a village together.
However, not everything lands. Coastal comedy, driven by Aravind Bolar, Bhojaraj Vamanajoor and others, often slips into exaggeration. A few sequences are unnecessarily long, draining momentum. A tighter screenplay and more cinematic rhythm could have made the film stronger.
Still, what stands out is honesty. Roopesh, capitalising on his Bigg Boss fame, transitions into the director's chair, and treats the coastline story with respect. With an intimidating Raj Deepak Shetty, a charming Adhvithi, and Suniel Shetty’s grounded cameo, the film becomes more than a rural drama. It becomes a reminder that development is not a slogan but an obligation.
As a Tulu film with a Kannada reach, Jai succeeds to a good extent. For those from the coast, it feels unmistakably real.