RRR (Dir. S. S. Rajamouli, 3h5m, 2022)

Another week, and another little moment of groundbreaking for the blog, as we step into the world of Indian cinema with one of the most anticipated films (foreign language or otherwise) of 2022. With one of the largest cinema going populations in the world, and, compared to the now familiar markets of Far East Asia, a comparatively small footprint in the West, it's high time Indian cinema arrived on the world stage. From the very moment I saw RRR's trailer in December 2021, and took in the jaw-dropping scale, and utter, punch-the-air visual spectacle that this, the most expensive Indian film ever made, would soon unleash upon cinemas, I was hooked. I knew I'd have to review it.

Moreover, online as I am, I'd unwittingly stumbled across some of the more jaw-dropping sequences of S. S. Rajamouli's other most famous film, the equally colossal, similarly spectacular, and effortlessly cinematic Baahubali duology. Rajamouli is, for his part, the superstar of Indian cinema, and its major driving force, working his way up from coming-of-age films in the early 2000s, like Student No 1 (2001) to introducing the sport of rugby to a major Indian audience in Sye (2004) to his now familiar stomping ground of high-budget, massively scaled action movies headed by nigh-superhuman heroes (Magadheera (2009), Eega (2012), and the aformentioned Baahubali films(2015-17)). 

So I waited, and, finally, RRR arrived in the UK via a limited theatre release and, somewhat inevitably in this day and age, a digital release on Netflix, including a surprisingly solid English dub (A DVD release is mooted at some point). At last, we can talk about this massively scaled, larger than life historical epic.

RRR tells the story of two real-life revolutionaries battling against the British Raj in the 1920s, whose imagined, larger than life adventures are to, respectively, rescue a girl from the British, and arm a village militia with guns to slowly take the fight to the British. This central duo, of Raju (Ram Charan), and Bheem (N. T. Rama Rao Jr), meet first as enemies, before, over time, several musical sequences, and a litany of betrayals, calculated decisions, and genuine respect for each other, become firm, and positively inseparable friends, their narrative thread of their own plans, and their combined strength and wits, essentially driving the film forward.

In introducing this duo, though the film takes its time, and several episodic moments of setup to introduce, a board to set before its most important pieces meet across it. First, we have the instigating moment, the introduction of the film's villains, Catherine (Alison Doody), and Governor Scott (Ray Stevenson) Buxton, a pair of cruel, possessive, and ultimately kidnapping upper class English representatives of the Raj. Kidnapping a small girl (Malli), from her village, and brutally beating her mother rather than waste a bullet on her, so the film presents, in a monologue that will re-appear several times, a shorthand for the cheapness of Indian life, and the dismissiveness of the British towards them. Raju's introduction, amidst riots sparked by Malli's abduction, is a perfect counterpoint, this nigh superhuman figure picking out the leader of the riot, and storming into it, struggling his way through seemingly insurmountable odds, to finally capture the hapless figure, and return, bloodied but victorious to the compound, to the awe of Indian and British soliders alike.

 Bheem's introduction, if anything, is even more action-packed, and even more superhuman, as, together with other tribesmen from the Gond tribe, he is chased by, and battles with, a tiger (some impressively rendered CGI), before arriving in Delhi; heralded by one of the Raj's governors as a threat to its very way of life, he takes the name and identity Akhtar, and refuge with a Muslim household in the city. Passed over for promotion, Raju turns to the hunt for Bheem, an impressive bounty, and officership placed on the "Shepherd" of the Gond, and together with his uncle, Raju begins attending meetings of the nascent Indian independence movement, hoping to find the mysterious figure. He doesn't, but chasing one of his supporters, he soon finds himself joining "Akhtar", unaware of his identity, in rescuing a small boy from a train crash in a nail-biting series of stunts straight out of the silent era, that sees their brotherhood subsequently form in a charming montage.

This bond only grows as the duo work together to introduce "Akhtar" to the sympathetic Jenny (Olivia Morris), initially as a pretext to get into the Governor's residence, but the relationship quickly grows in chemistry, leading to a pitched dance battle to the almost impossibly energetic "Naatu Naatu" (transl. Dance Dance), that evolves from drum solo to classic Bollywood exhibition of manly-and overtly Indian-pride, with "Akhtar" coming out on top. Small wonder it stormed the Indian charts, helped RRR become the fifth film from India ever to take home a Golden Globe against a packed field from Disney and beyond, and was shot in the grounds of Zelensky's Presidential Palace. It's the standout sequence of the film, the film's sense of energy, its high-wire act between the believable and the fantastical, its sense of action, choreography and masculine bonhomie perfectly balanced.

By now, though, "Akhtar"'s inquiries, and Raju's suspicions, are reaching fever pitch, with Bheem locating Malli in a nail-biting sequence, whilst a clue from their first meeting sees Raju corner and capture Bheem's lieutenant, his torture cut short by a snake bite. With Bheem rescuing him from certain death with an an antidote, so the Gond tribesman reveals his true motive, the rescue of Malli, unaware he is revealling this to the very man that seeks to capture him. His subsequent raid on the palace is simply put, one of the most insane things I have ever seen, a near half hour visual spectacle that almost dares you not to be whooping along, or gasping, or cheering at the twists and turns. It is as spectacular as it is overwhelming, which is to say-very.

Beginning with Bheem leaping out of a truck full of animals in a jaw-dropping slow motion shot that sees him flanked by his unsuspecting allies, sees him battle his way through a small army of British soldiers whilst dodging animal attacks-the kill count here is dizzying, and life is cheap-before, in a fight that escalates to almost elemental levels, as Bhaam wields water against Raju's fire, the friendship suddenly shatters, with Raju finally beating his close friend to a standstill only once the life of the very girl he seeks to rescue is threatened. It is one of the most spectacular, one of the most eye-widening and dropping action scenes put to celluloid since the benchmark that is Mad Max: Fury Road, and comes close to capturing that pure energy. It is, if nothing else,the reason to see this film.

Bheem, though, is not so easily bent, nor is Raju a mere traitor to his best friend, and as the film gathers pace, its co-opting of Indian Revolutionary fervour-something that may, in the same way that the similarly action-packed Wolf Soldier did for China, raise eyebrows in certain quarters-lends itself both to Raju's harrowing past, and Bheem's present. It is his defiance, his ability to incite a crowd to uproar, to, as Raju exclaims, "make weapons" of a crowd with just his voice, that convinces Raju, focused on a far more material form of weaponry, to rescue his friend. From here, the film barrels forward through masterful action sequences, at turns beautiful and stirring musical numbers-seriously, the song that sets the scene for the final setpiece is another highlight-and bruising setpieces, culminating in another nigh-half hour roller-coaster ride of a finale that has so many spectacular shots and stunts to spoil even one would be unforgivable.

RRR isn't perfect-no film is-its lack of historical context means that a better frame of reference than other Indian-or indeed Western-historical epics is popcorn fare like Gladiator, 300-with which it shares an undeniable visual sensibility, and more than a smidgen of its politics-and Braveheart. It is, after all, meant as a big, fun, dumb, action movie. Rajamouli's love of the colossal and the larger than life is writ all over this film, but this scale and spectacle does occasionally ring hollow-its central leads are smoulderingly intense, but whilst Charan's Raju basically carries the film, his mission and change of heart integral, Rama Rao's Bheem occasionally feels single-dimensional, a colossal, nigh messianic figure for his more flawed and complex to bounce off, though their charming friendship is more than enough to make up for this

This misses, though, the key point of RRR; one isn't coming to the cinema to see a colossally scaled action movie, and especially not this one this colossal or action packed, for character studies, but for entertainment. RRR undeniably, is a culture shock for the uninitiated-I've watched a good three hundred plus films over the lifetime of this blog, but a scant handful have the energy, the unpredictability, the joie du cine, to coin a phrase, that RRR has. It feels like that great quote of Carlin Michael Dixon, "When words fail music speaks. But when music fails that's when dance begins" writ large, but with action scenes sometimes standing in for dance, this film;s action chops barely comparable to something in the west but for films that pushed the boundaries of the medium outward.

The true triumph of RRR, though is in being a film that doesn't so much open the door to a nation's cinema for millions who've never seen an Indian-made film before, as blow it, and part of the adjoining wall, off. This film is like nothing I've seen before, a feast of action, of song, of death-defying stunts and spectacular visuals, and I want more.

Rating: Must See.

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