The play-off between Prabhas and Prithviraj is the high-octane fuel that lends Salaar momentum, observes Mayur Sanap.
Like it or not, the macho heroism is here to stay, and who could be at the forefront other than Director Prashanth Neel to keep the wheels spinning?
The writer-director of the Kannada blockbuster KGF and its sequel returns with the new two-part action offering Salaar, starring Prabhas and Prithviraj Sukumaran.
Titled Salaar: Part 1 -- Ceasefire, Neel ups the ante on all of the formulaic elements from KGF by instilling them with more ambition and technical dazzle that sustain his bonkers vision.
The film revolves around the expansive mythology of Khansaar, a lawless land ruled by menacing crime lords.
It begins in 1985 introducing us the tale of two childhood friends, Deva (Prabhas) and Vardha (Prithviraj Sukumaran). Vardha's father (Jagapathi Babu) fought his way to the throne by knocking down two local rival tribes and is now the ruler of this violent city.
When he decides to make Vardha the successor of Khansaar, some jealous ministers team up with rival gangs to hatch a plot of killing his son in order to claim the throne.
Deva, who was living far away at his mother's (Easwari Rao) insistence, returns to Khansaar after 25 years to help his friend Vardha in the impending bloodshed.
As the story unfolds, this reunion leads to a shocking revelation that threatens to change the course of their friendship.
If KGF was about a mother's promise, here, this childhood friendship forms the emotional fulcrum of the story.
Prabhas lends his larger-than-life persona to enthralling action, bursting into solidly choreographed set pieces, killing relentlessly and perpetually smoking a cigarette while looking super cool in his endeavour of playing for the gallery.
Prithviraj is, by contrast, a tacit and focused man who utters only a few words but holds many secrets in his heart.
The play-off between the two stars is the high-octane fuel that lends Salaar momentum.
Ravi Basrur's edgy score, even though consistently loud, is a high point that greatly compliments the big screen impact of its bloody and brutal action sequences.
The lush cinematography evokes a dystopian atmosphere with a colour palette that's similar to hellscape shown in KGF. Once again full marks to Neel for his distinct visual style.
Less in not more, more is more in this audacious world envisioned by Neel that's very much admirable for its commitment and scale much like Sandeep Reddy Vanga's Animal.
The women, however, remain inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.
Shruti Hassan plays Aadhya, an NRI who gets entangled in this crime world because of estranged father's past. But there's little more to her character other than looking confused, trying to adjust to the mayhem surrounding her or turning doe-eyed whenever she's rescued by Prabhas.
From a pure narrative standpoint, Salaar does feel a little bloated to the test of a three-hour film.
This is especially apparent in some of the overtly dramatic moments that dominate the second half of the film.
Neel uses flashback technique to narrate the simple story in a slightly more interesting way.
However, due to over-saturation of characters, the drama gets a bit convoluted at times only to be rescued by next big action moment.
Thankfully, the action doesn't disappoint thanks to the stunning exhibition of visceral aesthetics and relentless pace. Both Prabhas and Prithiviraj juggle well between the film's high drama and adrenaline-filled chaos.
This is, of course, no way cinematic art.
But the film accomplishes most of what it sets out to do, such as creating the emotional hook of equation shared between its protagonists, the world building of Khansaar, and etching out various characters that form this grand puzzle of power and politics.
The latter half especially hits brings some satisfying twists and turns, leading up to a penultimate big reveal and a rousing closing shot that confidently launches into a potentially intriguing future with the 'Part Two'.
I am totally invested, bring it on!
