The Devil Movie Review: Darshan in dual avatars drives and divides The Devil

The Devil starts with a question that quietly rearranges the film’s pieces: what happens when ambition faces an unexpected truth? Director Prakash Veer uses this idea to give his political drama a steady pulse. As the story becomes more intense, the idea of identity shifts from being an accident to an advantage.

At the centre of this staged chaos is Chief Minister Rajashekar (Mahesh Manjrekar), played with gravelly fatigue—like a man who has survived too many terms, too many betrayals, and too many nights staring at the throne. A three-time CM, he is forced to step down due to a conviction and is barred from the chair for six years. But in this world, power is never surrendered; it is only lent. And Rajashekar is waiting for the throne to be his.

Director: Prakash Veer

Cast: Darshan, Rachana Rai, Mahesh Manjrekar, Achyuth Kumar, Sharmiela Mandre, Huli Kartik, and Gilli Nata

To steady the ship, his political advisor Nambiar (Achyuth Kumar), the self-styled Chanakya of this universe, moves MLAs like pieces on a chessboard. “Politics is blood. Some are born with it, some bleed under it,” he says—and the line lingers. He coaxes Dhanush (Darshan), Rajashekar’s flamboyant son, to come back from London, and grooms him for the crown.

Simultaneously, in Gandhinagar, there's another story unfolding. Here lives Krishna (also Darshan), a dreamer running a hotel while serving Mudde Basaru and rehearsing film lines in the kitchen. His friend Nani (Huli Kartik) treats him like family. Nani’s slogan, “Ivathu soutu, naale cut-out," keeps Krishna hopeful. Each morning, Krishna takes on a new cinematic persona—Rajkumar today, Vishnuvardhan tomorrow, Ambareesh the next. And then there is Dhanush—the self-declared “Devil” who believes violence can be beautiful if framed right. Dhanush is all swagger and threat; heroism is his costume, intimidation his scent. Rich production design and stylish costumes amplify his presence, and he carries a sleek, stylish swag throughout the film. He desires what he sees, and if denied, he takes.

Ruku or Rukmini (Rachana Rai) senses the humble side of Krishna. Her mother (Tulasi) looks for a more secure match for her daughter. Rukku is ready to support Krishna, unaware that he is being shaped for someone else’s agenda. Krishna’s striking resemblance to Dhanush becomes Nambiar’s lucky break. A coincidence to the world; a tool for the kingmaker. Krishna is pulled into a political washing machine where no one escapes clean. His honesty turns into a burden, and his dreams become strings that control him. “Remote nan hatra ide… Krishna nan bombe,” Nambiar declares.

The film tightens its grip when the jugalbandi begins: two identical men, two mismatched destinies. One is shaped by power; the other, by longing. One wants to die like a king; the other simply seeks to live with dignity. The philosophical thread emerges through Nambiar’s reflections—how even Dhrutarashtra recognised his Duryodhana, yet here, no one knows who is the heir, who is the threat, and who is the pawn. The second half is the sharpest part, with tension rising each time the film blurs its lines: Is Krishna acting as Dhanush, or becoming him or vice versa? How the film unveils its real Devil becomes the crux of the story.

Prakash Veer manages this contrast with clear focus. The action sequences appear purposefully and recede when they are not needed. Darshan’s dual performance drives The Devil, showcasing both his strengths and the film’s limits. He skillfully distinguishes between Krishna’s quiet sincerity and Dhanush’s polished arrogance. As Krishna, he exudes innocence and hunger effortlessly; as Dhanush, he radiates force, a man shaped by entitlement and noise, volatile yet magnetic.

Cinematographer Sudhakar S Raj sharpens the divide, keeping the two worlds visually distinct. The body double trope never feels like a gimmick; it becomes the backbone of the story. Ajaneesh Loknath’s score adds atmosphere but rarely delivers the mass energy the narrative relies on, leaving some scenes lacking.

Achyuth Kumar’s sharp portrayal carries significant weight. Rachana Rai as Rukku and Sharmiela Mandre as an aspiring politician seize their opportunities effectively. The humour from Huli Karthik and Gilli Nata adds a welcome touch, but could have been used more. Vinay Gowda and Roger Narayan made their mark in the film.

Some emotional moments come across softly, and a few transitions between scenes feel rushed. The pre-climax borders on confusion. Still, the film’s heart remains steady, balancing tension within the conflicting themes of ambition and identity.

The Devil ultimately serves as a political character study woven with illusion, desire, and the shifting nature of power. Once the dust settles, the film reveals its deepest conflict. It is not Krishna versus Dhanush; it is the quieter man confronting the shadow he may become. One side seeks cinema, dignity, and a life built on hard work. The other feels the pull of influence, noise, and the tempting ease of control. The two paths stand side by side, looking similar but leading to different outcomes.

The film concludes with that internal struggle, reminding us that every person has two roads to take in their life when they are at a crossroads, and the world only remembers the road chosen. And it is this choice that can make one either platform the divine or showcase... The Devil.