Bank Chor (2017) is, as the title implies, a movie about a bank robber, Champak (Riteish Deshmukh), an ordinary man forced into a life of crime, and his two Delhi-born accomplices, Gulab (Bhuvan Arora) and Genda (Vikram Thapa). They have a plan, a gun, and cunning disguises. Unfortunately, they are also idiots, and things immediately spiral out of control, leaving them with twenty eight hostages (with varying degrees of wackiness), a media circus outside the bank lfeaturing beautiful rookie reporter Gayatri Ganguli (Rhea Chakraborty), and a police operation which has been taken over by CBI officer Amjad Khan (Vivek Oberoi), a man who likes to shoot first and ask questions later, questions which mostly involve more shooting.
And at this point I was left wondering what on Earth I could say about the movie; if you've seen one wacky crime farce, you've pretty much seen them all, so you may as well sit back and wait for the climactic chase scene. But it turns out that Bank Chor is not a wacky crime farce, it's a gritty neo-noir crime drama involving a corrupt politician (Upendra Limaye) and an actual bank robber (Sahil Vaid) who is happy to kill everybody if it gets him what he wants. Our heroes just happen to be in the wrong movie, still cracking jokes and bumbling around while the universe around them plays it completely straight.
And even after the big twist, I still don't have a whole lot to say about Bank Chor. It plays fair; all the movie's twists, including the big one and the other big one, make sense based on what has come before. It's a rare example of a successful cinematic bait and switch.
Saturday, November 30, 2019
Saturday, November 23, 2019
Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love.
Padmaavat (2018) opens with a disclaimer, and I shall do the same. The movie's release met with a great deal of controversy, and I am not really going to touch on any of it; I am just an American guy who likes Indian movies, and I am not remotely qualified to comment on whether legendary and historical characters are being portrayed accurately and with respect or whether this is a suitable adaptation of an epic poem I have never read. Instead, I'm just going to focus on the movie as a self-contained story.
The story begins with Alauddin (Ranveer Singh) and his rise to power. To say Alauddin is ambitious would be an understatement; he claims that every beautiful thing in the world belongs to him, which is an attitude that will get him into trouble someday. Still, he rises. He captures an ostrich in order to marry Mehrunissa (Aditi Rao Hydari), the daughter of Jalaludin (Raza Murad.) He helps Jalaludin win the throne of Delhi, gains great renown by successfully fighting off a Mongol invasion, then, with the help of loyal and cheerfully murderous slave Malik Kufar (Jim Sarbh), he murders his father-in-law and seizes the throne for himself.
Meanwhile, Sinhalese princess Padmavati (Deepika Padukone) is doing princess stuff, which in her case mostly means living in the woods and being young and carefree and sure that nothing will ever change. She's one cute animal sidekick short of being a Disney princess. One day while hunting she accidentally shoots Ratan Singh (Shahid Kapoor), king of Mewar. She nurses him back to health, then accompanies him home as his bride. Everything is wonderful - until the happy couple catch Ratan's guru Raghav Chetan (who isn't credited in the IMDB) spying on them. Padmavati insists that Raghav should be exiled, and so he is. he swears revenge, but goes away.
In short order, Raghav makes his way to Delhi, where he arranges to be discovered by Alauddin. He tells Alauddin of Padmavati's legendary beauty, convincing him that he is destined to rule the world, but only with her at his side. Since Alauddin's philosophy is that every beautiful thing belongs to him anyway, he promptly takes his army to Mewar to claim his prize.
Padmaavat sounds like a historical epic, and I suppose it is, but it plays out more like a fairy tale. The princess is beautiful and noble and spirited and kind, the villain is consumed by greed and wickedness and dresses like heavy metal Dracula, and the handsome prince and his people are Movie Rajputs, pure of heart but completely dedicated to a rigid code of honor. The movie even looks like a fairy tale, with the scenery ranging from pretty to stunning and otherworldly, while still remaining more grounded than the giant statues and impossible cliffs of Baahubali.
It also plays out as a tragedy, and I have mixed feelings about that. I can follow the characters' reasoning and motivation, even though I don't agree with them. I understand that there is cultural significance behind the final act of literal self-sacrifice, and the scene was shot and performed beautifully. It was also a really jarring moment of culture shock for me.
Ultimately this is Ranveer Singh's movie. The other leads are perfectly good and convincing as they stride toward their various noble fates that probably could have been avoided with a little forethought, but from his humble beginnings onward Alauddin is a terrible person, and Singh still manages to make him compelling and believable as he schemes and murders and fights and sneers and swoons and dances. And when he dances, he really, really dances.
The story begins with Alauddin (Ranveer Singh) and his rise to power. To say Alauddin is ambitious would be an understatement; he claims that every beautiful thing in the world belongs to him, which is an attitude that will get him into trouble someday. Still, he rises. He captures an ostrich in order to marry Mehrunissa (Aditi Rao Hydari), the daughter of Jalaludin (Raza Murad.) He helps Jalaludin win the throne of Delhi, gains great renown by successfully fighting off a Mongol invasion, then, with the help of loyal and cheerfully murderous slave Malik Kufar (Jim Sarbh), he murders his father-in-law and seizes the throne for himself.
Meanwhile, Sinhalese princess Padmavati (Deepika Padukone) is doing princess stuff, which in her case mostly means living in the woods and being young and carefree and sure that nothing will ever change. She's one cute animal sidekick short of being a Disney princess. One day while hunting she accidentally shoots Ratan Singh (Shahid Kapoor), king of Mewar. She nurses him back to health, then accompanies him home as his bride. Everything is wonderful - until the happy couple catch Ratan's guru Raghav Chetan (who isn't credited in the IMDB) spying on them. Padmavati insists that Raghav should be exiled, and so he is. he swears revenge, but goes away.
In short order, Raghav makes his way to Delhi, where he arranges to be discovered by Alauddin. He tells Alauddin of Padmavati's legendary beauty, convincing him that he is destined to rule the world, but only with her at his side. Since Alauddin's philosophy is that every beautiful thing belongs to him anyway, he promptly takes his army to Mewar to claim his prize.
Padmaavat sounds like a historical epic, and I suppose it is, but it plays out more like a fairy tale. The princess is beautiful and noble and spirited and kind, the villain is consumed by greed and wickedness and dresses like heavy metal Dracula, and the handsome prince and his people are Movie Rajputs, pure of heart but completely dedicated to a rigid code of honor. The movie even looks like a fairy tale, with the scenery ranging from pretty to stunning and otherworldly, while still remaining more grounded than the giant statues and impossible cliffs of Baahubali.
It also plays out as a tragedy, and I have mixed feelings about that. I can follow the characters' reasoning and motivation, even though I don't agree with them. I understand that there is cultural significance behind the final act of literal self-sacrifice, and the scene was shot and performed beautifully. It was also a really jarring moment of culture shock for me.
Ultimately this is Ranveer Singh's movie. The other leads are perfectly good and convincing as they stride toward their various noble fates that probably could have been avoided with a little forethought, but from his humble beginnings onward Alauddin is a terrible person, and Singh still manages to make him compelling and believable as he schemes and murders and fights and sneers and swoons and dances. And when he dances, he really, really dances.
Saturday, November 16, 2019
You know, for kids.
I have very eclectic tastes when it comes to Indian cinema, but I have to admit I've got a soft spot for the Bollywood romantic comedies of the nineties and early oughts. They really don't make them like that any more, but luckily for me, they made a lot of them like that at the time, and I've got a backlog of movies I haven't seen yet. I can scratch Hum Hain Rahi Pyar Ke (1993) off the list.
After the death of his sister, Rahul Malhotra (Aamir Khan) has taken charge of both the family garment factory and her three children, Vicky (Shahrokh Barucha), Sunny (Khunal Khemu, who years later went on to co-write and star in the slacker zombie comedy Go Goa Gone), and Muni (Baby Ashrafa). Rahul is basically a good guy who's trying his best in a difficult situation, and the kids are little hooligans, who keep pelting the servants with eggs. Clearly Rahul needs help, and he's not going to get it from Maya (Navneet Nishan), an old college friend who clearly would like to be more, but doesn't want to deal with the children.
Across town, Vaijanti Iyer (Juhi Chawla) has her own problems. Her traditional Brahmin father (K. D. Chandran) is determined to marry her off to someone of her own caste, but the best he's been able to find is an oily dancer (Veeru Krishnan), to whom she takes an instant dislike. Vaijanti runs away and hides out in a nearby fair. Meanwhile, Rahul's charges have also crept out of the house to go to the fair. They meet Vaijanti, and after some hijinks, the theft of a harmonica, and an impromptu musical number, they become fast friends.
Since Vaijanti has nowhere else to go, the children decide to sneak her into the house, without telling Uncle Rahul. Now you may think you know where this plot is going, but you are completely correct. There are humorous misunderstandings galore, followed by valuable life lessons and our young attractive protagonists falling in love and not bothering to say anything.
Meanwhile, cartoonishly evil businessman Bijlani (Dalip Tahil) has placed an order for 100,000 shirts, an order which Rahul's late brother-in-law has failed to deliver because he died. According to the terms of the contract the brother-in-law signed, if the shirts are not delivered in fifteen days, Bijlani will take possession of the factory and the family home. (That is some contract.) Bijlani is willing to be merciful, but only if Rahul agrees to marry Maya, who happens to be Bijlani's daughter.
Hum Hain Rahi Pyar Ke was an enormous hit when it was released, and I can see why. There are no real surprises here, but that's part of the charm. This is a movie that chooses its formula and then executes it well. The leads are charming, the villain daintily nibbles on the scenery, the gratuitous comic relief (Mushtaq Khan) is only kind of annoying, and Juhi wears an array of dowdy dresses in a rainbow of pastel colors, as if a closet full of Sunday dresses and a basket of Easter candy were fused together in a transporter accident. It may sound like I'm damning with faint praise here, but I love this stuff. It's cinematic comfort food.
After the death of his sister, Rahul Malhotra (Aamir Khan) has taken charge of both the family garment factory and her three children, Vicky (Shahrokh Barucha), Sunny (Khunal Khemu, who years later went on to co-write and star in the slacker zombie comedy Go Goa Gone), and Muni (Baby Ashrafa). Rahul is basically a good guy who's trying his best in a difficult situation, and the kids are little hooligans, who keep pelting the servants with eggs. Clearly Rahul needs help, and he's not going to get it from Maya (Navneet Nishan), an old college friend who clearly would like to be more, but doesn't want to deal with the children.
Across town, Vaijanti Iyer (Juhi Chawla) has her own problems. Her traditional Brahmin father (K. D. Chandran) is determined to marry her off to someone of her own caste, but the best he's been able to find is an oily dancer (Veeru Krishnan), to whom she takes an instant dislike. Vaijanti runs away and hides out in a nearby fair. Meanwhile, Rahul's charges have also crept out of the house to go to the fair. They meet Vaijanti, and after some hijinks, the theft of a harmonica, and an impromptu musical number, they become fast friends.
Since Vaijanti has nowhere else to go, the children decide to sneak her into the house, without telling Uncle Rahul. Now you may think you know where this plot is going, but you are completely correct. There are humorous misunderstandings galore, followed by valuable life lessons and our young attractive protagonists falling in love and not bothering to say anything.
Meanwhile, cartoonishly evil businessman Bijlani (Dalip Tahil) has placed an order for 100,000 shirts, an order which Rahul's late brother-in-law has failed to deliver because he died. According to the terms of the contract the brother-in-law signed, if the shirts are not delivered in fifteen days, Bijlani will take possession of the factory and the family home. (That is some contract.) Bijlani is willing to be merciful, but only if Rahul agrees to marry Maya, who happens to be Bijlani's daughter.
Hum Hain Rahi Pyar Ke was an enormous hit when it was released, and I can see why. There are no real surprises here, but that's part of the charm. This is a movie that chooses its formula and then executes it well. The leads are charming, the villain daintily nibbles on the scenery, the gratuitous comic relief (Mushtaq Khan) is only kind of annoying, and Juhi wears an array of dowdy dresses in a rainbow of pastel colors, as if a closet full of Sunday dresses and a basket of Easter candy were fused together in a transporter accident. It may sound like I'm damning with faint praise here, but I love this stuff. It's cinematic comfort food.
Saturday, November 9, 2019
He's a chicken, I tell you! A giant chicken!
Kanthaswamy (2009) (or Mallama, as the Telugu dub I just watched is titled) is a movie about a man who dresses up as a rooster in order to fight crime. Yes, it is a deeply strange movie, but probably not in the way that you're thinking.
It starts with a temple devoted to Mallama (who as the film points out is known by many names, perhaps most widely as Kartikeya, but here he's Mallama). A woman who needs money for her husband's operation ties a prayer to the tree, and that night a bag of money is placed at her door. She's suspicious and brings the money to the police, who "confiscate" it, by which I mean the station head takes the money for himself. That night, though, he's confronted by a masked, crowing, occasionally flying figure who claims to be Mallama himself. The money's retrieved, and the woman's husband is saved.
This Mallama is actually a CBI officer named Mallama (Vikram), who has assumed the god's identity in order to better steal from the rich and give to the poor. In this case, the specific rich being stolen from are the wealthy tax cheats Mallama encounters during his day job, and the poor he gives to are the devotees who tie their prayers to the temple tree. He does not have any superpowers, and instead performs his amazing feats with the help of a dedicated team of helpers, practical effects, and literal wire-fu.
Mallama's current target is PPP (Ashish Vidyarthi), who starts off smug but winds up faking a stroke mid raid in order to get out of answering questions. He is very devoted to the fake, pretending to be partially paralyzed, and doesn't even tell his daughter Subbalakshmi (Shriya Saran) the truth, so she in turn attempts to take revenge on Mallama, first by accusing him of rape and then by trying to make him fall in love with her. Mallama isn't fooled for a second, but decides to play along anyway, because this is a movie and that is what you do in movies.
This is a long movie, but instead of filling out the running time with padding, it fills it out with plot - PPP isn't even the main villain! Okay, there is a comic relief subplot which wasn't even subtitled in the version of the film I saw, and I don't think I missed anything, but apart from that there's a lot going on. And throughout all that, Mallama actually spends relatively little time dressed as a chicken; most of his heroic deeds are performed in his real identity.
Beyond that, he's an odd superhero in other ways. Mallama the "god" is cocky, graceful, and does everything with theatrical flair, while Mallama the CBI officer is dour, cranky, sarcastic, and totally focused on the job at hand. It's like if Spider-Man was secretly Bruce Wayne.
Mallama is also a superhero who focuses almost entirely on white-collar crime, specifically money laundering and tax evasion. Mallama is deadly serious about this Robin Hood business, and speaks often and eloquently about income inequality and how much good the corrupt billionaires he targets could be doing with their money.
But the really strange part of the movie is Mallama and Subbalakshmi's relationship. It is blindingly obvious that they're going to wind up together; several minor characters point it out as the the plot progresses. But she's kind of a terrible person, and he's really mean to her. Does Subbalakshmi becoime good? Does Mallama become nice? Well, kind of. But they still need all of the therapy, and a prayer tied to a tree probably wouldn't hurt.
It starts with a temple devoted to Mallama (who as the film points out is known by many names, perhaps most widely as Kartikeya, but here he's Mallama). A woman who needs money for her husband's operation ties a prayer to the tree, and that night a bag of money is placed at her door. She's suspicious and brings the money to the police, who "confiscate" it, by which I mean the station head takes the money for himself. That night, though, he's confronted by a masked, crowing, occasionally flying figure who claims to be Mallama himself. The money's retrieved, and the woman's husband is saved.
This Mallama is actually a CBI officer named Mallama (Vikram), who has assumed the god's identity in order to better steal from the rich and give to the poor. In this case, the specific rich being stolen from are the wealthy tax cheats Mallama encounters during his day job, and the poor he gives to are the devotees who tie their prayers to the temple tree. He does not have any superpowers, and instead performs his amazing feats with the help of a dedicated team of helpers, practical effects, and literal wire-fu.
Mallama's current target is PPP (Ashish Vidyarthi), who starts off smug but winds up faking a stroke mid raid in order to get out of answering questions. He is very devoted to the fake, pretending to be partially paralyzed, and doesn't even tell his daughter Subbalakshmi (Shriya Saran) the truth, so she in turn attempts to take revenge on Mallama, first by accusing him of rape and then by trying to make him fall in love with her. Mallama isn't fooled for a second, but decides to play along anyway, because this is a movie and that is what you do in movies.
This is a long movie, but instead of filling out the running time with padding, it fills it out with plot - PPP isn't even the main villain! Okay, there is a comic relief subplot which wasn't even subtitled in the version of the film I saw, and I don't think I missed anything, but apart from that there's a lot going on. And throughout all that, Mallama actually spends relatively little time dressed as a chicken; most of his heroic deeds are performed in his real identity.
Beyond that, he's an odd superhero in other ways. Mallama the "god" is cocky, graceful, and does everything with theatrical flair, while Mallama the CBI officer is dour, cranky, sarcastic, and totally focused on the job at hand. It's like if Spider-Man was secretly Bruce Wayne.
Mallama is also a superhero who focuses almost entirely on white-collar crime, specifically money laundering and tax evasion. Mallama is deadly serious about this Robin Hood business, and speaks often and eloquently about income inequality and how much good the corrupt billionaires he targets could be doing with their money.
But the really strange part of the movie is Mallama and Subbalakshmi's relationship. It is blindingly obvious that they're going to wind up together; several minor characters point it out as the the plot progresses. But she's kind of a terrible person, and he's really mean to her. Does Subbalakshmi becoime good? Does Mallama become nice? Well, kind of. But they still need all of the therapy, and a prayer tied to a tree probably wouldn't hurt.
Thursday, November 7, 2019
He does whatever a spyder can.
Traditionally, Bollywood and Bollywood-adjacent films haven't been shy about taking stories from all over and reshaping them for their own purposes. That's not a bad thing - the Indianification process always adds something to the final product, creating something new and often wonderful. I have seen things. An adaptation of The Time Machine that leaves out the morlocks. The Hound of the Baskervilles without hound or super-detective. An arc on a children's superhero series lifted from the 1982 film version of Cat People. Even a near shot-for-shot remake of The Professional with no creepy May-December subtext! And Spyder (2017) is a Batman movie with no Batman.
Our hero is Shiva (Mahesh Babu), who is not an orphan, not a billionaire, and never ever dresses up as a bat. He's a low-ranking officer in the Intelligence Bureau, assigned to a wiretapping unit, but he has developed software which enable shim to tap into and filter through every phone and computer system in the city, enabling him to stop crimes before they happen, rescue kidnapped children, prevent suicides, and generally fight evil wherever he can. Because this is a movie, we are supposed to pretend that this is a good thing rather than a horrifying invasion of privacy and subversion of due process; Shiva is generally a good guy, but this is technology that could easily be used for evil - "used for evil" is pretty much the default, even. And while he doesn't wear a cape, he does have his own theme song!
Our hero is Shiva (Mahesh Babu), who is not an orphan, not a billionaire, and never ever dresses up as a bat. He's a low-ranking officer in the Intelligence Bureau, assigned to a wiretapping unit, but he has developed software which enable shim to tap into and filter through every phone and computer system in the city, enabling him to stop crimes before they happen, rescue kidnapped children, prevent suicides, and generally fight evil wherever he can. Because this is a movie, we are supposed to pretend that this is a good thing rather than a horrifying invasion of privacy and subversion of due process; Shiva is generally a good guy, but this is technology that could easily be used for evil - "used for evil" is pretty much the default, even. And while he doesn't wear a cape, he does have his own theme song!
(Fun fact - the theme song includes a line about how he's so cool he doesn't need his own theme song. Sure, Jan.)
Shiva is also involved in one of the weirdest romantic subplots that I have ever seen. Shalini (Rakul Preet Singh) is a gifted medical student who accidentally watched four hours of porn and now finds she can't concentrate on her studies. Her plan, as she explains to a college friend, is to find a cute guy and "try that" so she can clear her head and get back to work. Because Shalini uses the word "help" during the phone conversation, Shiva gets an alert, listens in, and proceeds to stalk her for nearly a month, and when she angrily confronts him , he tells her he's there to help her with her concentration problem, and that is that! It's never made clear exactly what Shiva's intentions are; he doesn't make any speeches about trying to protect her honor or anything, but while they describe themselves as "friends with benefits," nobody ever gets any "benefits." And then not five minutes later they sing a song about how they're in love forever.
(Also sexy mimes.)
Shiva is hunting a serial killer, Bhairav (Bharath) and through a combination of genuinely clever detective work, dumb luck, and horrifying violations of privacy and due process, he quickly discovers the villain's origin story; Bhairav was born in a cemetery during a funeral, and can only feel joy when he hears other people weeping. As a child he started killing people in order to cause more funerals, and after the villagers burned down his family home he hid and kept killing people until the village was abandoned. While he doesn't have a cool name, Bhairav is basically a supervillain; he's got the origin story, a goofy looking zipper mask that he wears once and then immediately discards, and a lair of sorts at the amusement park where his brother works as a security guard. And like the modern Joker, his superpower is murder; he can kill minor characters pretty much with impunity, but has much less success with major characters who are not named Jason Todd.
Bhairav is so good at murder, in fact, that the film slowly transitions from "street-level vigilante movie" to "improbable disaster movie" without realizing it. And while even giant runaway boulders can be defeated through the power of illegal wiretapping, Shiva can't save people from the hospital attack Bhairav has planned until he figures out which hospital is being attacked, and a captive Bhairav isn't talking . . .
Spyder requires a bit more suspension of disbelief than the average Batman movie does, but there are some benefits. While Shiva and Shalini have an incredibly weird relationship, they are an engaging couple, and the film just treats Shalini as a girl with a very healthy sex-drive rather than trying to shame her. The action scenes are sufficiently big and improbable. The songs are fun, and provide the opportunity to watch a costume designer slowly lose her grip on reality. Just be prepared for strange.
Sunday, November 3, 2019
Baahubali 2: The Wrath of Kattapa
Baahubali: The Beginning ends with . . . well, not a cliffhanger, per se. An unanswered question. Why would Kattapa kill Baahubali? Why would a devoted servant, who has dedicated his entire life to fulfilling his ancestors' vow to serve the royal family at all costs and obey every order despite his own conscience and feelings kill Baahubali? It's not actually a very hard question, but Baahubali 2: The Conclusion (2017) still answers the heck out of it.
We begin where the last movie left off, with an extended flashback narrated by Kattapa. Bercause of his brave deeds in battle, and specifically because of the care he showed for his subjects, Baahubali has been named as the future king of Mahishmati. The people are thrilled, but Baahubali's adopted brother Bhallaledeva and adopted father Bijjaladeva are less enthusiastic. Before they can begin any proper evil scheming, though, Baahubali and Kattapa leave to tour the kingdom and learn about what the people want and need.
And it's while on this tour that Baahubali meets actual warrior princess Devasena and falls in love. He decides to pretend to be an unemployed simpleton in need of work rather than reveal his true royal identity and woo Devasena on equal terms, because shut up, that's why. (Kattapa actually asks him why he's doing this, and Baahubali replies with a weird speech about how Kattapa doesn't understand love. Neither do I, I guess.)
The deception gives Bhallaladeva his opportunity, though. Upon hearing that his brother is wooing the princess in disguise, he goes to his mother Sivagami and asks for the princess openly. Sivagami sends Devasena a condescending letter congratulating her on the match while not specifying which prince she is to be engaged to, and Devasena sends back an insulting reply, prompting Sivagami to demand that Baahubali take the princess captive, since he's in the neighborhood and all. When he receives the message, Baahubali has just defeated a horde of bandits and revealed his true identity, so Devasena is willing to play along after he swears to protect her honor and dignity.
And that's where things start to get complicated. Baahubali is forced to choose between his love and the throne, and he chooses love. Worse, he also tells Sivagami that she is wrong. Bhalla takes the throne, but the people continue to love Baahubali more. Bhalla removes baahubali from his position as commander-in-chief, but the people continue to love Baahubali more. Baahubali is exiled from the palace (the new commander-in-chief was using his position to grope women at the palace gates, including Devasena, so she severed his fingers and when confronted Baahubali decapitated him) and the people rejoice, because that means Baahubali will be living among them.
Clearly, the situation requires advanced evil scheming, so Bhalla fakes an assassination plot against himself, driving Sivagami to give Kattapa the fateful order, and the question is finally answered. Baahubali is betrayed, Sivagami is killed just after declaring that Baahubali's son will be the next king, and Devasena is chained up in the courtyard and busies herself building Bhalla's funeral pyre.
And after hearing all this, Baahubali's son Shiva raises an army to take the throne and avenge his parents, because really, what choice does he have?
Like the previous film, Baahubali 2 draws heavily from the Hindu epic tradition, and in particular the Mahabharata. Things are obviously much more black and white in the movies, of course. For instance, Bhallaladeva's epic counterpart Duryodhan is an excellent king, while Bhallaladeva is not.
Still, both stories rely on everybody making ill-conceived declarations and stupid vows when they don't have all the facts. That's Baahubali's secret super power - he recognizes that while keeping your word is important, it is a warrior's duty to stand up for justice. Unfortunately, he's caught between people who can't get past their own personal honor and people with no honor who are willing to exploit the honor of others.
Of course, the movie isn't just a demonstration of Krishna's advice to Arjun, there's also the spectacle to consider. The first Baahubali movie was big, and the conclusion is bigger. Bigger fights, more ridiculous battle tactics, a bigger romance, and not one but two shouty queens. Baahubali 2 doesn't just go over the top, it sails over it in a flying ship which might be real and might just be the backdrop to a particularly good dance number. It's epic in more ways than one.
We begin where the last movie left off, with an extended flashback narrated by Kattapa. Bercause of his brave deeds in battle, and specifically because of the care he showed for his subjects, Baahubali has been named as the future king of Mahishmati. The people are thrilled, but Baahubali's adopted brother Bhallaledeva and adopted father Bijjaladeva are less enthusiastic. Before they can begin any proper evil scheming, though, Baahubali and Kattapa leave to tour the kingdom and learn about what the people want and need.
And it's while on this tour that Baahubali meets actual warrior princess Devasena and falls in love. He decides to pretend to be an unemployed simpleton in need of work rather than reveal his true royal identity and woo Devasena on equal terms, because shut up, that's why. (Kattapa actually asks him why he's doing this, and Baahubali replies with a weird speech about how Kattapa doesn't understand love. Neither do I, I guess.)
The deception gives Bhallaladeva his opportunity, though. Upon hearing that his brother is wooing the princess in disguise, he goes to his mother Sivagami and asks for the princess openly. Sivagami sends Devasena a condescending letter congratulating her on the match while not specifying which prince she is to be engaged to, and Devasena sends back an insulting reply, prompting Sivagami to demand that Baahubali take the princess captive, since he's in the neighborhood and all. When he receives the message, Baahubali has just defeated a horde of bandits and revealed his true identity, so Devasena is willing to play along after he swears to protect her honor and dignity.
And that's where things start to get complicated. Baahubali is forced to choose between his love and the throne, and he chooses love. Worse, he also tells Sivagami that she is wrong. Bhalla takes the throne, but the people continue to love Baahubali more. Bhalla removes baahubali from his position as commander-in-chief, but the people continue to love Baahubali more. Baahubali is exiled from the palace (the new commander-in-chief was using his position to grope women at the palace gates, including Devasena, so she severed his fingers and when confronted Baahubali decapitated him) and the people rejoice, because that means Baahubali will be living among them.
Clearly, the situation requires advanced evil scheming, so Bhalla fakes an assassination plot against himself, driving Sivagami to give Kattapa the fateful order, and the question is finally answered. Baahubali is betrayed, Sivagami is killed just after declaring that Baahubali's son will be the next king, and Devasena is chained up in the courtyard and busies herself building Bhalla's funeral pyre.
And after hearing all this, Baahubali's son Shiva raises an army to take the throne and avenge his parents, because really, what choice does he have?
Like the previous film, Baahubali 2 draws heavily from the Hindu epic tradition, and in particular the Mahabharata. Things are obviously much more black and white in the movies, of course. For instance, Bhallaladeva's epic counterpart Duryodhan is an excellent king, while Bhallaladeva is not.
Still, both stories rely on everybody making ill-conceived declarations and stupid vows when they don't have all the facts. That's Baahubali's secret super power - he recognizes that while keeping your word is important, it is a warrior's duty to stand up for justice. Unfortunately, he's caught between people who can't get past their own personal honor and people with no honor who are willing to exploit the honor of others.
Of course, the movie isn't just a demonstration of Krishna's advice to Arjun, there's also the spectacle to consider. The first Baahubali movie was big, and the conclusion is bigger. Bigger fights, more ridiculous battle tactics, a bigger romance, and not one but two shouty queens. Baahubali 2 doesn't just go over the top, it sails over it in a flying ship which might be real and might just be the backdrop to a particularly good dance number. It's epic in more ways than one.
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