Kingdom: Mismatched Amalgamation

Star Cast: Vijay Deverakonda, Bhagyashri Borse, Satyadev, Venkitesh V. P, Ayyappa P. Sharma, and Manish Chaudhari
Cinematography by Girish Gangadharan & Jomon T John
Edited by Navin Nooli
Music Composed by Anirudh Ravichander
Directed by Gowtam Tinnanuri 

I am the King of my world and my Kingdom is the entire Universe.

This is the principle of early film heroes and they always used to have goals that – while never truly abandoned – would often get temporarily eclipsed by secondary and tertiary distractions. If you see them today, we can easily state that some films have their protagonists changing their goals mid-way and then achieving their primary goal as well upon achieving this. Still, they never lost the sight of their primary goal. For example, take a film like Sabhash Ramudu [1959] – Ramu’s major purpose according to the story is educating his brother. But we see pre-climax and climax portions dealing with his brother’s love story and marriage. Still, his main purpose of settling down his brother as an elder brother, is served big time. Hence, the story doesn’t feel like it deviated too much. Take a film like Dasara Bullodu [1971] – we see a protagonist who has no goal in life but his character carries forward the narrative and his love story becomes the central plot. What is the purpose of this film? A character study and love story of a person, who seems to have no worries and issues in his life. His reaction to circumstances determine the plot. Take another film, Buddhimanthudu [1969] – there is a dual role and both characters doesn’t again seem to have a lifetime goal. But they serve their purpose of giving society a great lesson about how devotional beliefs should not contravene real life necessities like education. Here, the beliefs of protagonists fight, giving a metaphorical purpose to story and characters. Why am I saying all this? Kingdom main protagonist starts with one purpose but fails in it to find ulterior one.

An Oppresed Land ahead – walk carefully, you might become their God, Leader..

First thing, mythological parallels are prominent with lines like “ippudu veedu aa rakshasulaki rajayyi kurchunnadu [This man became King of those Demons]”, directly Gowtam connected the story with Ravana’s uprising. Indirectly, if we take it as Ram vs Ravana war – India being Ram here, we can say that Ravana like in mythology abandoned his identity as Vishrava’s son and took upon a new identity as Demon King, who actually came to slay it. So, there is a high probability for some well-versed Indian star hero to come in as Ram, in next parts, if at all they are made. Well, even further we can state that it is a story of Ravana and Kumbhakarna, from brothers point of view. Kumbhakarna, dedicated his life to follow in the foot steps of his elder brother and then lost his life, too for him. Here Kumbhakarna is Satyadev, who is playing elder brother just like Lakshmana becoming Balarama-like for Krishna. Kumbhakarna, had been portrayed as neutral among Ravana and Vibhishana, extremes and because of his decision to lean toward Ravana, he met his end at the hands of Rama. As Rama is not introduced here, and also, as he is paralleled to Balarama, he died in the hands of a bigger demon. Why should we concentrate on these parallels? It would be helpful in understanding character arcs even more prominently.

Coming to the second thing, visual storytelling vs narrating it like “open banana put in mouth”. Visually, Gowtam is among prominent visionary filmmakers but his emphasize on creating visual beauty over convincing and enhancing the emotion, became his drawback in this film. See a shot where you see, Satyadev pulling out the knife, realizing he is killing his brother. The expression is enough to convey that he understood who is in front of him. You don’t need huge melodrama and then, see a pregnant lady just losing her consciousness looking at her husband’s dead body. Look at the shot where Satyadev’s wife is able to understand the tension in his face and question him through her eyes. A very confident director about his craft only would try such shots where actors are left vulnerable. Yet, this brings his downfall too. He is trying to convey that a messiah has arrived to the oppressed land, visually, it is present but situation is not as concrete as those scattered shots. You don’t find a coherent visual grammar that really binds you with the camera and director’s vision.

You are left wondering, why there is an extreme close and mid-close parallels cut when the dialogue is serving the job. It feels like an unnecessary repeat information and draggy. The problem also lies in taking upon a repeated point. Will cover about it further. Now, visually, movie needed to look consistent in its tone, not intense at one time and confusing at the other. It needed to carry audiences with it into the strange life of Suri, not the other way around, it shouldn’t throw us away. Few random good shots cannot narrate a story properly and Gowtam is aware of this. Still, he went into a zone where he is trying something but isn’t able to convey it. See, the shot where we see Bhagyashri Borse being torn between growing affection towards Suri and her duty as an agent. The shot tries to convey it but the emotional build-up isn’t strong enough to let audience deduce it. More or less, it feels like a good shot rather than a shot that conveys pain or emotional dilemma. Vijay Deverakonda‘s interval leap against Sri Lankan Army, has a very deep meaning than just being a heroic shot. But that context got lost due to story left out for second part.

Even the character arc of the mother seems hurried and non-consequential. Her trauma of losing Siva and not knowing about Suri’s life for some time deserved much more grounding. One scene where she silently walks past Suri without reacting, could have carried immense weight if her internal conflict was established earlier. But the film chooses to underplay the emotional beats, reducing what could have been a cathartic reunion into a moment that lacks resonance. The missing link between Siva’s detachment and Suri’s desperation makes the journey feel emotionally hollow. There are scattered shots that aim to illustrate Suri’s psychological state, but none build up to a revealing moment that justifies the final triumph. Even Gowtam’s approach to dialogue here feels too expository rather than evocative, explaining what could have been felt. A story so rooted in familial bonds should elevate silent tension and emotional cues, yet what remains are visual fragments that struggle to bridge narrative gaps.

The staging of key reveals remains dry and fails to escalate tension. Siva discloses the container number, nothing follows. Suri discovers he’s being double-crossed again, no payoff. These should have triggered revelations or emotional breakdowns, especially given how much is at stake. Instead, the film delays all resolution to a second part, as if audience investment is expected without delivering narrative closure. Just give it a thought: How can a constable within the system who saw its failure in rehabilitation of a naxalite believe it can help his exalted brother, who is a refugee and a most wanted International criminal? In Baahubali [2015] concluded Mahendra Baahubali’s arc of identity. Here even the promise to Siva is unclear, when was it made, and what were the emotional consequences? Nothing lands with impact, and the reunion feels more staged than earned.

It is Suri, who forced Siva’s death upon him, rather than the brother’s guilt, we see the uprising of a hero. How can that be substantial writing? And while Gowtam writes, “Rakshasudini Champaka Devudu avataram Chaalisthadu … Mee anna Devudu”, the payoff is theatrical, not transformational. Divi people get a king, but not a son to a mother, nor a brother to Siva. Suri’s obsession overshadows any abreaction. The severed bond between mother and son should have been a mirror to Siva’s silence. But that silence isn’t reflective, it’s unexplained. Why did he choose not to return home? What was he hiding? The film leaves emotional truths dangling, relying on grandeur instead of clarity. Gowtam may be clever, but cleverness without emotional coherence ends up feeling hollow. Even technically, the film falters screen writing lacks structure, and shot division misses rhythm, failing to visually communicate layered emotions in crucial scenes.

And then there’s the scream point – where Suri screams in jail, a moment that should have been the emotional crescendo. It’s framed like a triumph, but the subtext is a cry for his brother, a desperate plea from the younger sibling buried beneath the hero’s mask. Now understand and connect the scream in the end. These screams should have shattered the screen, echoing the pain, guilt, and longing that define Suri’s arc. Instead, it’s stylized and hollow, lacking the emotional weight that made the Jersey [2019] train sequence unforgettable. That scream wasn’t just sound it was supposed to be soul. But here, it’s just noise.

Also Read: Jersey -A Selfishly Selfless Tale

Thirdly, touching upon a repeated point. A person hailing from a foreign land arrives to his motherland of past life and takes over the reigns, as The Chosen One. This plotline has become the norm of the current generation directors. Gowtam, who showcased that he can bring novelty to the table with Jersey, failed to really bring any novelty to Kingdom. A refugee can only return back to his place but not demand the new place he ran to, to be his home. Unless you’re accepted as a citizen, you end up being an outsider only. 70 years ago to 1991, British did rule Sri Lanka as Ceylon and Srikakulam people are not refugees. But post Independence, they do become refugees and story needed a stronger discourse between Indian Government and Sri Lankan one, to really not treat them as refugees. More than that, the movie concentrates on one Spy Agency Head, who is hell bent on internal conflicts within the cartels rather than addressing the international dimensions of the refugee crisis. Doesn’t that sound dumb and unreal? Basically, we can accept Satyadev’s character fleeing in a boat to Sri Lanka and then mixing among a local tribe. But portraying him as a criminal simply because Indian refugees are turned into tribal criminals feels constructed and insincere.

Setting up a ground reality, where things seem believable had been Gowtam’s strength in Jersey but he seem to have carried away by other pressures here. KGF [2018] is not a gold standard in Indian Cinema or even any sort of Cinema. Yes, I did like the film and here, you can read for yourself, but it is a well-executed clever spin on existing formula. It is not something very new like Shiva [1989] for Indian Cinema, for everyone to try their hands upon. Even Baahubali proved to be not everyone’s cup of tea to achieve. So, it felt like Gowtam sacrificed his style of narrative for a far bigger film that it was supposed to be in Kingdom. If a hero turning grey as he could not achieve his purpose is the storyline, then it needed a lot better treatment than this random zigzag puzzle that is unnecessarily complicated when with one look anyone can determine the steps to the solution. Anirudh Ravichander could not really give anything prominent as he is also pushed into an extreme abyss. Vijay Devarakonda gave his best to crack the character’s layers, but weak writing diluted the impact. Satyadev, Venkitesh, and Bhoomi Shetty, though limited in screen time, were expressive and precise. The film needed a proper direction from start to finish but it fails to catch the ship that can sail away from vortexes. It seems like everyone tried to just push it into whirlpools after whirlpools rather than helping it to achieve a smooth sail. This muddled execution of narrative ambition and lack of clarity took us away from Divi into an alien island which feels like a place where you should never step foot as it bares no fruit to accomplish the journey. It is more or less a Kingdom of faultlines that is ready to crack open at any moment, in fact, it is burried under remains of what could be a reign.

Theatrical Trailer: