Devara‘s
self-appointed
guardian
of
the
sea
unleashing
violence
as
a
means
to
end
violence
is
purely
Junior
NTR
fan-tasy,
observes
Sukanya
Verma.
Any
major
movie
that
has
Part
1
in
its
title
will
translate
to
unfinished
business.
Only
it’s
not
due
to
the
cliffhanger
moment
that
Devara:
Part
1
arrives
at
after
three
hours
of
slow-motion
savagery
and
bombastic
heroics
but
a
glaring
lack
of
end
goal
in
Koratala
Siva’s
generic
spectacle.
Unable
to
fully
lure
us
into
its
furore
or
make
sense
of
its
ambiguity,
the
curse
of
the
sequel
relying
on
the
first
one
to
succeed
is
fast
setting
a
worrying
precedent
of
fragmented
filmmaking.
World
building
is
of
little
consequence
if
the
larger
objectives
remain
unclear
and
Devara‘s
hazy
approach
tells
it
doesn’t
wish
to
count
its
chickens
before
they
hatch.
Which
is
why
you’ll
never
understand
why
India
hosting
the
cricket
World
Cup
has
anything
to
do
with
a
cop’s
pursuit
of
a
fabled
seaside
superhero
on
a
remote
island
far,
far
away
from
the
mainland.
Told
in
flashback
by
a
sagely
Prakash
Raj,
embodying
the
stereotypical
old
chap
who’s
lived
long
and
seen
enough,
Devara:
Part
1
sets
itself
up
as
yet
another
showcase
for
Nandamuri
Taraka
Rama
Rao
Jr’s
stardom
and
charisma.
Introduced
on
screen
as
the
man
of
the
masses,
it’s
his
series
of
wolf-whistle
entries,
showboating
swagger
and
stunning
bombshells
that
provide
Koratala
Siva’s
grim-toned
yet
pompous
extravaganza
its
vitality.
Don’t
expect
anything
else
though.
The
one-man
Taarak
show
in
a
double
role,
father-son
avatar
is
a
relentless
grits
and
glory
exercise
highlighting
him
as
a
force
of
nature
exalted
by
Composer
Anirudh’s
thumping
All
Hail
supremacy.
Spanning
the
1980s
and
1990s,
a
remote
coastal
town
by
the
Red
Sea
inhabiting
four
villages
and
their
respective
clans
survive
the
apathy
of
the
authorities
by
smuggling
goods
on
cargo
ships
for
their
overseas
clients.
Unlike
their
morally
superior
ancestors
defending
the
border
from
harm’s
way,
the
new
generation
uses
their
underwater
guerilla
tactics
as
a
means
to
survive.
It’s
a
whole
new
world
where
men
and
mosquitoes
die
as
easily
and
meaninglessly.
The
villagers
have
their
own
way
of
doing
things,
which
is
largely
barbaric
and
involves
worshipping
weapons
like
deities.
An
annual
ritual
of
men
fighting
each
other
in
the
ring
is
rewarded
with
what
almost
looks
like
the
iron
throne
in
Westeros.
Recycling
the
age-old
story
of
bitter
rivalry
and
brooding
revenge
between
righteous
rage
and
misguided
violence,
Devara
(Junior
NTR)
and
Bhaira’s
(Saif
Ali
Khan)
Baahubali-Bhallaladeva
equation
is
never
on
equal
footing.
Where
Devara’s
self-appointed
guardian
of
the
sea
unleashing
violence
as
a
means
to
end
violence
makes
for
a
purely
Junior
NTR
fan-tasy,
Saif
Ali
Khan’s
brooding
protagonist
spends
most
of
his
time
as
his
glorified
sidekick
glowering
at
the
hate
army
he’s
build
out
of
grizzly
haired
men
or
concocting
wily
schemes
that
are
certain
of
his
foe’s
participation
to
work.
Amusing
how
even
Saif’s
sling-sporting
arm,
which
looks
like
the
one
he
sustained
from
an
injury
on
the
sets,
is
woven
into
the
plot.
The
women
of
Devara
are
an
inconsequential
presence,
either
there
to
sob
for
their
sons
or
sigh
over
their
sweethearts.
You’ll
see
more
of
Janhvi
Kapoor
promoting
her
Telugu
debut,
which
has
someone
dubbing
for
her
and
Saif,
than
you
see
her
in
the
actual
movie.
The
actress,
known
for
her
carefully
picked
author-backed
roles,
shows
up
only
post
interval
to
pout
and
preen
around
NTR’s
machismo.
Despite
its
sea-filled
imagery,
mostly
a
mix
of
grand
sets
and
modest
visual
effects,
it’s
not
the
technological
wizardry
but
NTR
Jr’s
dynamism
that
does
the
trick.
He
goes
about
justice
seeking
for
better
or
worse,
leaving
us
wondering
if
the
father-son
dynamic
is
anything
like
Shankar’s
Indian,
Atlee’s
Jawan
or
the
likes
of
Zorro.
Devara
certainly
has
a
knack
for
carving
an
angry
mark
on
his
adversaries
like
the
swashbuckler.
Some
moments
stand
out
more
than
others
when
straying
away
from
the
formulaic
rut.
More
than
Devara’s
son
unleashing
Hanuman-like
ignorance
of
his
own
strength
with
gusto
in
the
fighting
ring,
it’s
the
scene
where
weapon-wielding
humans
crawl
out
of
the
beach
like
crabs
charging
towards
Devara
that
evokes
awe.
Or
the
one
right
before
that
when
a
merrily
drunk
Devara
breaks
into
a
sublime
jig
by
the
campfire
overwhelmed
by
emotions
at
a
marriage
ceremony.
There’s
a
cinematic
quality
to
these
one-off
moments
when
not
succumbing
to
the
‘mass’
pandering
momentum.
Devara:
Part
1
Review
Rediff
Rating:
