Uppu Kappurambu Movie Review: A rollicking, light-footed satire with oodles of cinematic energy 

Uppu Kappurambu Movie Review: When we first meet Apoorva (Keerthy Suresh) in Uppu Kappurambu, she is sobbing like a baby. This is not how any sane grown-up would behave, you might think — and a character on the sidelines notes this too. And yet, minutes later, we see Apoorva as a village head, mustering all her strength and channeling her father’s wisdom to solve the problems of people who are out there merely to test her mettle. It’s not merely a village head on dias anymore, but a theatre novice who must keep the audience hooked at any cost. There is a delightful fearlessness to Keerthy Suresh’s comedy in this film, especially in these portions as she goes no-holds-barred in her physical comedy. This is the make-or-break sequence for the film — if you find yourself attuned to Keerthy in this sequence alone, chances are you will probably like Uppu Kappurambu in its all zany entirety. I really did.

Directed by Ani IV Sasi, Uppu Kappurambu is set in 1992 and in a fictional village of Chitti Jayapuram where people have their own set of customs, preferring to bury their deceased instead of cremating them. At some point in near future, as the local graveyard keeper Chinna (Suhas) notes, the village will run out of burial space. Cinema Bandi fame Vasanth Maringanti concocts this outlandish premise, and uses the opportunity to offer light-hearted satire on plenty of things at once. There’s commentary on the class barrier, the rich’s perennial need to prove their superiority at all points, even in the cemetery. The main conflict kicks in because of an old drunkard’s zeal to concoct a strong toddy, and test the masculinity of his drinking buddies. The film even makes a light comment on patriarchy, although the writer also makes it clear Apoorva is equally a victim of prejudices due to her own limited wit.

Cast: Suhas, Keerthy Suresh, Rameshwari, Babu Mohan, Shatru

Director: Ani IV Sasi

Streaming on: Prime Video

These elements of satire and slapstick merge effectively with Ani IV Sasi’s directorial style that tilt towards the sensory, giving great emphasis to visual rhythm. That’s indeed what sets Uppu Kappurambu apart. Ani, in collaboration with cinematographer Divakar Mani, brings a vibrant cinematic energy to the proceedings, where how the visuals unfold remain equally interesting as what events transpire. It’s a richly laid out universe, with many quirky figures on the fringes, always alive and active, giving the narrative a well-rounded atmosphere (A young lovebirds’ couple can always be seen flirting, no matter what the situation around them). There is an impressive blend of physical comedy and clever satire at work here. And yet, despite the largely cartoonish tone at hand, the film also refuses to spoonfeed its viewers. There are elaborate anecdotes and backstories narrated to us at a frantic speed. There is a running gag about three ageing subordinates fighting over an umbrella that evokes laughs purely on account of how bizarre it is. 

This love for the absurd never leads to excessive indulgence in madcap, fortunately. The writer-director duo ensure that the dramatic stakes keep rising with each sequence. What Chinna intends as a small white lie erupts into a larger web of chaos in the village that only exposes the locals' deeper fears and insecurities about status, heritage, and one-upmanship, all dealt with an uber-light hand. There is plenty of relevance to this story set in 1992 (you can’t help but chuckle when a character proclaims to exact revenge for a crime committed against their family 200 years ago).

All of this lands because, underneath the zany premise and equally light-hearted execution, there is a genuine affection we find for some of these people, like Chinna’s mother Kondamma (An endearing Rameshwari in a great casting choice). Amidst all the mayhem, you stay connected to Kondamma’s humble aspirations, and root for Chinna’s sly yet earnest attempts to fulfil them — this keeps you emotionally tied to the proceedings, even as the narrative’s focus never dwindles away from humour. Shouldering the film alongwith a spectacular Keerthy Suresh is Suhas who brings an endearing quality to Chinna, capturing both the street-smartness and innocence of his character.  There is also a subte romance-like arc between Chinna and Apoorva, capturing the growing affection between the two, which works effectively because of how low-key it remains in its treatment, never overpowering the core premise. 

But what Uppu Kappurambu is largely interested in is a gentle critique of conventions. Every time Apoorva suggests a change in customary practices, people literally faint. All of her suggestions are frowned upon, because they would mean a massive change in customs followed for 300 years. Suhas’ intro scene is a delightful touch in the same vein. A cloud of dust appears on screen as someone first calls out Chinna in a moment of crisis. Chinna prefers to come from the opposite direction, though. He is allergic to dust, he says — just like the film he is leading, which consciously defies many conventions (like this one about hero’s entry moment), and comes up trumps.