Bhagavanth Kesari Movie Review: Balakrishna shines in this reimagined masala entertainer

Between the gulf of masala cinema and new age masala cinema, it is not hard to determine which film earns a place in the latter vis-a-vis a film that is relegated in the former. Though this would not have been an issue in an ideal world, seeing whether our sterling senior stars can accept an age-appropriate role has largely been the determining factor behind classifying a film in either category. Another factor behind deciding whether a film has sensibly updated itself with the times or not can be seen in the way a certain type of crowd-pleasing creepiness, a hallmark of hypermasculine cinema, has been done away with or not. Bhagavanth Kesari, despite emphatically ticking off the aforementioned criteria, is not what one can easily term a "new age masala cinema". But in terms of its sheer novelty, breaking the existing moulds of Balayya and Anil Ravipudi, Bhagavanth Kesari is nothing short of a breath of fresh air.

Cast - Nandamuri Balakrishna, Sreeleela, Kajal Aggarwal, Arjun Rampal 

Director - Anil Ravipudi

At the heart of the film lies the relationship between Vijji (Sreeleela) and Bhagavanth (Balakrishna). Joining the list of jailers & their children across masala cinema in 2023 (a happy set of coincidences, I assume), Vijji, the daughter of a jailer played by Sarathkumar, grows in the foster care of Bhagavanth after her father's death. We do not try to guess Bhagavanth's age (why would we do any such thing while watching Balayya onscreen) but we do get an answer in the present-day portions of the film when Balayya declares he is 50. The fact that this line was met with cheers across the theatre is worth taking note of, with regard to understanding how to write roles for our senior actors in this day and age. We also learn about Katyayani's (Kajal Aggarwal) age early on in the film. She is in her mid-30s here though, not having received the decade-long concession Balayya gets. Despite being saddled with the most insignificant and poorly written role in the film — with her "I am a psychologist" shtick being an unenthusiastic encore from Catherine Tresa's character in Iddarammayilatho — the actor's romantic angle with Balakrishna is largely a relief. This is not a romantic film, and the presence of a love story in a film is not as damningly mandatory as it was, say, in the 90s. So Anil Ravipudi uses Kajal as a glorified prop, but not before mining this faux romance for a few laughs.

Bhagavanth Kesari has been billed as a departure of sorts for Anil Ravipudi, who is known to revel in out-and-out goofy comedy. While there is enough drama in this film, the filmmaker's comic touches in Bhagavanth Kesari render the film to be a memorable one. From the winky-eyed humour evident in Balakrishna calling Kajal "aunty" to the dark comedy seen in Balakrishna killing a guy because he did not like his teeth to a bunch of political sidekicks keeping a female politician in their ragtag group only because she speaks English, the comedy in Bhagavanth Kesari is subdued but interesting. The director also works some of Balayya's internet/fan culture jokes with equal amounts of silliness and restraint ("jubilee hills, banjara hills, chicha kodithe medical bills" made me chuckle). 

Two years ago, a lot of us wondered how a star as huge as Vijay could place his trust in Lokesh Kanagaraj in a film like Master where he is seen to be directly responsible for the death of two children. Star vehicles rarely allow for such admissions of guilt and vulnerability, lest they come in the way of sheer hagiography masquerading as character design. This is more or less the same kind of doubt I had when I saw Anil Ravipudi design Balayya's Bhagavanth Kesari, for the character is so surprisingly different from the ones we have seen so far. You can't help but wonder how the actor approved this script and why the actor approved it at this point in time. One cannot help but praise the actor for trusting the director. There is a calm assurance in Anil Ravipudi this time. He knows that the star he is working with is larger than life from the get-go. And it is with this assurance he surges forth and designs Bhagavanth as someone self aware and emotional, which is rarely what we get to see in films like these. Atleast one half of his character works that way, while the other half plays to the gallery without blinking.
 
Bhagavanth Kesari, or atleast one-half of him in the film, is easily one of the most humble roles of Balakrishna in recent times. The world he is from, where he calls himself "adavi bidda" a lot, is not exactly novel (think Pawan Kalyan in Bheemla Nayak and NTR Jr in RRR), but it achieves its own grooves and meaning in the presence of a new star. There was a certain apprehension I felt about Telangana being used as a mere backdrop, and though Bhagavanth Kesari does not hold a candle to the kind of Telangana-centric films we have seen from filmmakers native to the region, it also feels validating to know that Telangana is now a part of a film with the most mainstream star at its helm. Anil Ravipudi commits to the new milieu, and the casting of Telangana actors like Jeevan and Muralidhar Goud, who have so far featured in smaller films, was a heartening sight. In a film that does its bit towards glorifying its male lead, it is the somewhat unsubtle glorification of the current Telangana government that sticks out. Be it in the display of the Raidurg high rises that the film's antagonist (Arjun Rampal) resides in or a montage of Sreeleela training right outside the newly built Secretariat building, Ambedkar statue, and the Telangana Martyrs memorial, the signs of a new, shiny Telangana are displayed prominently for all to see.

Despite the presence of a gory flashback involving cinema-friendly police brutality and a handful of action sequences involving a cutout, a bus and a wine opener, a major part of Bhagavanth's heroism lies in the way he strives to make Vijji (Sreeleela) join the armed forces. He pushes away a marriage proposal for Vijji because the prospective father-in-law is dismissive of her aspirations. Bhagavanth also schools an army school instructor equally dismissive of female applicants in his academy. There is a touching (though somewhat conveniently shoehorned) monologue on good touch and bad touch. There is also a line about how girls need to be raised like lions, not deers. A major part of Bhagavanth training Vijji is also to make sure she loses her anxiety and stops getting panic attacks. One can debate whether this Dangal-meets-The Accountant arc fits the norms of textbook feminism or not. But after six back-to-back successful films, most of which involved parodying women senselessly, to see Anil Ravipudi use the platform his success has given him to put forth this message, is something else. Bhagavanth Kesari is middling at its action portions, a place where masala films are at their most gung-ho mode, but the impact of its serene disruption of traditional masculinity, not to mention its reinvention of Balakrishna will stay on. Here's hoping there is more of them, wherever they are coming from.