Can a citizen walk up to the gates of Vidhana Soudha and demand his rightful share of its granite? It is an audacious question, and one that immediately makes you curious about where the film is headed. In Common Man, director Om Sai Prakash takes a cue from writer Dr N Narasimhamurthy, using this very premise to build a political drama that draws heavily from the anger we see and feel in everyday life.
Directed by the veteran in his 106th outing, the film begins with something most of us are familiar with: television debates. One panel follows another, while potholes, corruption, kickbacks, and the much-discussed 40 per cent commission allegations become fodder for prime-time outrage. Then there are politicians consulting astrologers to save their chairs. The film takes all of this and turns it into a straightforward story of an ordinary man getting an unexpected chance to change the system.
Into this ring walks lawyer Kumar Kamsale (Gowrishankar SRG), carrying the personal trauma of his father Dharmatheja’s (Bala Rajwadi) custodial death. His father was an activist who dared to challenge the nexus of the three Ks—Khaki (police), Khadi (politicians), and Kaavi (godmen). Rather than taking the law into his own hands, Kumar fires a legal shot: a Public Interest Litigation asking for his family’s physical share of the Vidhana Soudha, built with the taxpayer’s rupee.
While we expect the film to settle into a dry legal proceeding, the script takes a turn into political superstition. Sitting Chief Minister Mavalli Sadashiv Rao (Narasimha Murthy) is warned by his astrologer that the planets demand his head within 90 days unless he gives up the chair. Looking for an easy way out, the political nexus picks Kumar as their puppet ruler. This is where the common man gets a chance to sit in the Chief Minister’s chair. Is it for good or for bad? You have to watch the film to find out.
As a common man, however, one rarely stays quiet once given actual power. Kumar throws protocol out of the window, makes ministers ride bicycles to work so that they experience commuter misery firsthand, and takes on the entrenched 40 per cent commission syndicate. Can any of this ever be brought to reality? That wish-fulfillment is precisely where the film finds its emotional hook.
Narasimhamurthy wears three hats here—writer, producer, and the lead antagonist. Writing a role for yourself can easily turn into self-indulgence, but Narasimhamurthy goes the other way. He fully embraces the villain roles, relishing every crooked smile and backroom deal. He brings a theatrical flair reminiscent of real-life political operators, which suits the film's tenor well.
Opposite him, Gowrishankar SRG gives Kumar a strong, sincere presence. He handles the long speeches about civil rights with conviction and keeps the character grounded. Sabby Suri adds to the story as an undercover IAS officer, while Shona Ladwa plays Kumar’s love interest, bringing in a few brief domestic breathers. Veteran actors such as Ashok (as the dignified Governor) and Ramesh Bhat offer support. In the political portions, Prakash Thuminad brings in welcome comic relief. Vinay Chandra Suryavanshi’s score keeps the emotional momentum going, with full-throated tracks that echo the energy of street protests.
True to the veteran filmmaker's body of work, Common Man follows Om Sai Prakash’s familiar cinematic traits. The approach is basic, but it also makes the film easy to understand, speaking directly to the layman without making its politics difficult to follow. In fact, the situations often mirror the politics we see around us today, which gives the film its relevance—taking a simple idea, adding emotion and drama, and putting it across in a way that reaches the common viewer. However, some of the subplots, especially the undercover portions, feel heavy and rely too much on characters explaining things.
Yet, Common Man makes no secret of what it wants to be. It is not a complex political thriller filled with secret meetings and clever political games. It speaks to anyone who has stared at a potholed road, watched a loud television debate and wondered what would happen if an ordinary man actually got the chair. While watching Kumar take charge, Upendra’s thoughts on politics also come to mind, especially his idea of an ordinary citizen taking a more active role in governance. In that sense, the film feels like a fictional take on a question that continues to stay relevant: can a common man really change the system from within?