Devara [Part 1]: Undefined Ambition

Star Cast: Jr. NTR, Janhvi Kapoor, Saif Ali Khan, Prakash Raj, Shine Tom Chacko, Narain, Srikanth, and Zarina Wahab
Music Composed by Anirudh Ravichander
Cinematography by R. Rathnavelu 
Edited by A. Sreekar Prasad
Produced by Mikkilineni Sudhakar and Kosaraju Hari Krishna
Directed by Koratala Siva 

Imagine yourself as a 10 year old in a classroom. There’s always that one kid who tops the class, earning accolades and being held up as the gold standard. You have two choices ~ harbor resentment or strive to emulate them. Choosing the latter, you seek out their secrets. If they are tight lipped or your ego prevents you from asking, you resort to keen observation, hoping to decode their success. This scenario mirrors the essence of Devara [Part-1] a “D” graded assignment ambitiously aiming for an “A+”.

Alert: All Hail Spoilers 

If you got the gist of how I felt about the movie from the above paragraph and don’t want any spoilers, then come back after watching it, if you wish.

Mythological Lore:

Once upon a time in a mythical universe, Lord Shiva decided to grant lordship to the child who could prove their worth by completing a difficult task. Shattered and fearful of failure, Lord Ganapathi asked his father, Shiva, how he could achieve the task since his brother, Lord Kumaraswamy, had a peacock and he did not. He was also worried about his physicality compared to his younger brother’s. Lord Shiva advised him to chant the “Narayana Mantra” three times and circumambulate his parents thrice. Ganapathi did so and won the task without moving from Kailasa. The task was for both of them to visit 118 punyateerdhas and return to Kailasa.

In the film, Devara represents Shiva and Vara represents Ganapathi. Devara assigns Vara the difficult task of bringing every member of the clan to order and provides him with a route map to achieve it.

About Writing:

When the makers did not really care about writing, I want to care and reiterate its importance to those who read. Why do I think they did not care? In Salaar [2023], Prashant Neel created similar kinds of gangster clans but integrated them with real history and developed a unique culture for them, which is slightly relatable. The complexity behind his thought process in a film that had a simplistic first half and a routine storyline became the issue. Here, Koratala Siva did not put in as much effort as Neel. When you say that in Independent India, an abandoned island exists, then you need to create its political importance as well. Khansaar from Salaar is a crime hub of the world, and hence, the Indian Government doesn’t want to push them into a war. When coastal guards know a pirate island exists and can attack them for “illegal weapons” possession, what were they doing?

A officer, inspired by the brave stories of Yerrasamudram from his childhood, aspired to protect these prestigious waters and rose to the rank of coast guard. Why doesn’t such a inspiring/brave clan receive minimal recognition for fighting for the country’s prestige? Somehow, they would have tried to “use” them or “eliminate” them. Devara’s Yerrasamudram is nowhere near as politically powerful as Khansaar and is almost shown as a land of freedom fighters who tried to loot the British and help the needy. Even if such a land had been isolated and overlooked post-independence, what about the connections those people made with the mainland system? Wouldn’t they be looking to bring such growth to their land? The island has been placed somewhere near the AP – Tamil Nadu border, so it cannot be as isolated as Rameshwaram or the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, which did not get overlooked. There should have been a strong political compulsion for the inhabitants to assume a pirate lifestyle. What was that? Everything goes in an exposition and nothing really sticks with real-world logic.

Had it been located in the remote Andaman Islands or closer to international waters, the kind of risks they take would make sense. But close to the mainland? If this movie is a period drama, such questions don’t arise. Nobody wants to locate Mahishmati from Baahubali [2015] on the current Indian map. But the makers of Salaar did showcase where Khansaar exists on both the world map and the Indian map. The difference is that research and small details add beauty to your film by creating an illusion of belief. You tend to believe, even for a minuscule second, that such islands do exist. If you just try to showcase a ritual for the sake of fights and don’t give them any unique lifestyle or cultural aspects, it all seems bland, an excuse to give some sort of forced novelty to your regular story. Or a blatant attempt at aping two styles of distinctive blockbusters: KGF [2018] and Baahubali in one film.

KGF had Rocky Bhai, whose antics needed context, and the exposition was fine. We connect with Rocky Bhai, but Salaar did not have a similar connection. Devara needed a strong connecting factor with Devara or at least Vara. The main protagonist seems to be doing good things randomly because he is a good man, and the villain does evil things because he is evil. There is no added depth to their characters to understand why they do so. If someone is so used to crimes that they become a ruthless criminal, then should we derive that crimes made them criminals or that they have criminal instincts, so they commit crimes? That’s how silly and confusing the logic is.

Devara believes that by stopping crimes, the criminals will change. But what if he offers them a better life on the island with education and amenities? What if he uses illegal arms to achieve prosperity for his island? Stopping them from going to sea doesn’t change them entirely for eternity. A lasting change is needed, so why doesn’t someone understand or point it out? With such weak writing, the screenplay also suffers from a linear narrative. The second hour feels repetitive, with nothing much happening on the story front. Every scene and every beat is so predictable that you could play a “bottoms-up” game by trying to predict what happens next, even the cliffhanger.

Conclusion:

Performance-wise, Jr. NTR and Saif Ali Khan did not seem to fully understand their characters on screen. They merely reacted to directions in front of the camera. Still, being veterans, both managed to pull off a few convincing face off scenes. Janhvi Kapoor and others are criminally underutilized. Technically, Rathnavelu’s cinematography, VFX (up to 70%), and production design came together to realize the director’s vision. However, the editing and SFX are unimpressive. Anirudh Ravichander’s music stands out, and his background score is well-composed.

In conclusion, Devara did not need a two-part treatment, and the screenplay needed to be crisper. When you eat your favorite delicacy, you don’t worry about hunger and timing, you just want it and go for it. But if it causes any health issues, you can’t escape the consequences. Pan-India cinema is like that delicacy for our actors and directors. Everyone wants it and is trying to force themselves to make it their favorite. Devara is a case study in a director not understanding the after-effects of trying a delicacy. To make it his favorite, he needed to try a different approach from his usual, and we ended up witnessing the mess. Ambition needs a definitive path after a point. When it remains undefined, it just glorifies mistakes like a mirror. Hopefully, the makers will reflect and become wiser rather than leaving everything in a state of confusion.

Theatrical Trailer: