Brat Movie Review: Krishna smashes a six in a game of greed and dreams

Brat Movie Review:

In Brat, the pitch is never level, the wickets unpredictable, and every over carries a hidden cost. Director Shashank pulls audiences behind the scoreboard into a world where ambition collides with temptation, and cricket betting turns dreams into high-stakes gambles. Every shot matters, and every misstep has consequences that ripple far beyond the crease.

Director: Shashank

Cast: Darling Krishna, Manisha Kandkur, Achyuth Kumar, Ramesh Indira, Dragon Manju, Manasi Sudheer, Gaurav Shetty, and Srivatsa Shyam

Krishna as Kristy is a boy branded a brat by his teacher yet driven by dreams of cricketing glory. He wants to hit a Tendulkar-style shot—the kind that defines a lifetime—but life bowls relentless bouncers. His father, constable Mahadevaiah (Achyuth Kumar), preaches discipline and hard work. “Our earnings and respect should smell of our sweat,” he says. Kristy, drawn to shortcuts and the lure of quick money, struggles to reconcile these lessons with his desires.

Shashank’s film explores the underbelly of a sport India worships. This is not about heroes in white jerseys. It is about greed, temptation, and the dangerous chase behind the crack of bat meeting ball. The story follows Kristy from a cricket-obsessed schoolboy to a young man immersed in illegal betting. Early failures push him toward underground matches and shady deals. A pivotal turn comes when he joins a cricket betting syndicate, seduced by prestige and fast money. Casual wagers among friends escalate into high-stakes gambling, testing morals, relationships, and ambition, when he gets entangled with police officer Ravikumar (Ramesh Indira) and don Dollar Mani (Dragan Manju) Amid this chaos, he meets Manisha (Manisha Kandkur). Love blooms, and she too becomes caught in his spiraling world.

At home, father-son tensions deepen. Mahadevaiah’s warnings clash with Kristy’s determination to win at any cost, while his mother quietly anchors the moral balance. Shashank uses these familial moments to contrast the corrupt world outside with warmth and ethics at home, making Kristy’s descent even more compelling.

Shashank balances father-son sentiment with the thrills of cricket betting, delivering twists that feel both inevitable and shocking. Each wager spirals into dangerous territory, and every frame resonates with the tension of a last-over chase.

Krishna plays Kristy with restless energy, and his performance fuses rebellion with emotion. Far from his lover-boy image, Krishna weaponises the role that offers him something new to play with. He commands each frame like a seasoned cricketer; his swagger, dialogue delivery, and calculated charm reflect strategy, while Shashank ensures every scene propels the story and grips the audience.

Cinematographer Abhilash Kalathi elevates the film with his framing, capturing close-ups that reveal subtle emotions and wide shots that contextualise high-stakes moments, making every glance and gesture feel vital.

Arjun Janya’s music and background score act as invisible commentators, amplifying emotional beats. Songs like 'Naane Neenante' and 'Gangi Gangi' linger, while the score punctuates the stakes.

The film draws a stark contrast between integrity and the seductive ease of shortcuts. One memorable sequence finds Kristy, working as a food delivery boy, staring at a dog lounging in a Benz—a silent observation of what luxury can bring. Kristy’s recurring line about money encapsulates his conflicted morality: it speaks volumes, commands respect, and promises happiness.

Brat is as much about cricket as it is about class, choices, and a youth’s moral dilemma. Achyuth Kumar embodies integrity and duty, Manisha impresses with a calm and grounded debut, and Ramesh Indira adds menace as a corrupt police officer. Dragon Manju looms as a formidable don, and Mansi Sudhir brings authenticity to the milieu, making each interaction feel like part of a high-pressure match. Even Kristy’s friends play pivotal roles in maintaining suspense and urgency.

Structurally, Brat mirrors a cricket match. A gripping first half sets the stage, followed by a tension-filled second half, culminating in a climax that lands like a perfectly timed six. Predictable moments exist, but bouncers, at the least expected times, keep viewers on edge.

Ultimately, Brat is about ambition, ethics, and the fading value of hard work. It holds up a mirror to a generation chasing shortcuts while honouring those who still believe in honest toil. Shashank and Krishna have crafted a match worth watching, where every delivery matters and every choice leaves a mark. In the final analysis, it is a six struck with force and precision, a six that stays with you long after the scoreboard goes dark, echoing the cost of ambition and the weight of dreams.