‘Ranabaali’ movie review: Vijay Deverakonda, Rashmika Mandanna anchor a history-rich but overstuffed Rayalaseema drama

For a long time, there has been an overarching image of how Telugu cinema has portrayed the Rayalaseema region, with tales of faction wars and machismo where subtlety is a forgotten trait. Some of these films, blockbusters of the 1990s and 2000s, have become pop culture references. However, a fresh look at this region and its stories was needed. Director Rahul Sankrityan’sRanabaali, headlined by Vijay Deverakonda and co-starring Rashmika Mandanna, is an attempt in that direction.

In this film, too, the leading man is portrayed as a fierce, warrior-like figure. The difference lies in its history-inspired setting, with a mix of folklore. The result is an interesting concoction. Some portions genuinely pique interest in the history and folk tradition of Rayalaseema, while others struggle to rise above the done-to-death mainstream cinema framework.

The attention to detail is evident right from the initial portions, when the story unfolds in the late 1870s in British-governed India. The colour tones are vivid yet earthy, at times evoking memories of Lagaan. The architecture is distinct, attempting to recreate Rayalaseema of that era. Jishnu Bhattacharya and Nirav Shah’s visuals, Shivam Rao’s production design, Vithal Kosanam’s art direction, and Archana Rao’s costumes do a fine job of depicting the period and the region.

For the several movie buffs who appreciated the Bengal portions of Shyam Singha Royand wondered what Rahul could do with a full-fledged period drama, Ranabaali is the answer. Unlike in Shyam Singha Roy, he goes for a more familiar mainstream framework this time, even though the story is anchored in history.

The director, with the help of writer Pramod Tammineni, uses the oral tradition of Burra Katha of Rayalaseema, in which stories of heroes are narrated with a dose of myth, to present the story of Ranabaali, a fictional character inspired by three palegars (local chieftains).

It takes a while to soak in the milieu and look past the folk- and myth-infused tales that have flooded Indian screens since Kantara. It also takes time to get accustomed to watching Vijay Deverakonda in a new avatar. He sheds his urban image, sports a tanned look and shoulders a machismo act. Once past this stage, the film and the story offers enough to keep the audience engaged.

It is incidental that while the country grapples with Super El Niño conditions, Ranabaali depicts a similar situation from the past. In this case, it shows how man-made situations worsened the land’s drought-induced problems. The Great Madras Famine of 1876-78 forms the backdrop and grains become a recurring visual motif.

The story picks up speed when Sir Theodore Hector (Arnold Vosloo) arrives as the British commissioner of the Madras Presidency. Supposedly based on Sir Richard Temple, this character is portrayed as remorseless, one who would go to any lengths to deprive the land and its people of the most basic necessity: food.

Through the biopic-like story of Ranabaali, the film asserts that a forgotten past is akin to a stolen future. When Ranabaali first comes into view, we see him as a fierce young man hardened by the conditions of the land. The overpowering background score drowns some of the initial lines, but thankfully the composers, Ajay-Atul, soon mellow it so the narrative can breathe.

The attempt not to take the audience for granted is evident when the film explains why the British are shown speaking Telugu. A British officer even remarks what made him learn the language of the land.

The storytelling is rather solid till the intermission point, and in some portions thereafter. Some of the character arcs work well, too. If there’s an unmistakable notion of patriarchy in what Ranabaali’s mother, Rajamma (Easwari Rao), tells the new bride, Jayamma (Rashmika Mandanna), the women also exercise their agency. The portion where Jayamma has to tame the brutish Ranabaali and the couple, complete strangers to each other, find love, gradually becomes one of the most engaging parts of the film. The ‘Endayya Saami’ song almost becomes a welcome breather in an otherwise harsh tale.

This might be Vijay Deverakonda’s film, with him trying his best to play a saviour to the hilt, but Rashmika effortlessly brings the much-needed warmth to the story. It’s a joy to watch her portray both Jayamma’s innocence and steeliness without missing a beat.

The story of resistance and rebellion has a few engaging set pieces when Ranabaali and his team take on some of the British officers head on. The topography of the region, especially Gandikota, adds a new texture.

As much as the film focuses on how grains were exported through newly constructed railway lines, it also portrays how the locals were subjected to inhuman treatment. A few mainstream cinematic tropes get overused, including a scene in which a child is thrown into a pot of boiling gruel! The film’s team stated that the violence was toned down following feedback from test screenings. The director had also stated that the depiction was only a part of what the historical accounts narrate. However, the violence in some scenes end up overpowering the emotional impact.

If the intent of the story was to make us reflect on the famine and perhaps value the food on our plates, some of these portions succeed. The film also juxtaposes a few visuals with photographs from historical records. While a British officer walks over grains with his shoes on, a young bride entering her new home sidesteps the grains, reinforcing the importance they hold. In another sequence, it is both cinematic and poetic justice when a British officer is dragged along the same railway line that was purportedly built to loot the land. This isn’t a spoiler since the visuals feature in one of the promos.

While the film packs in history, stories of resistance, retaliation, and myth, somewhere along the way it becomes overstuffed. A few chapter transitions aren’t smooth either. Some portions also become exhausting, almost bordering on torture porn. The attempt to make a Baahubali-like film is also evident, especially in a song in the post-intermission segment tailored on the lines of ‘Dandalayya’.

It’s in the last hour that the film struggles to balance history, devotion and folk-inspired legend. We are also at a point in Indian cinema where the harsh treatment meted out to a pregnant woman becomes a turn-off, like a tiresome, manipulative emotional tool.

Ranabaali has a story that needed to be told, but it could have been sharper and tauter. There’s a lot to soak in and appreciate, even if not everything lands.

And, for history movie buffs, a character who can draw a broad parallel with Ettappan (remember the story of Veerapandiya Kattabomman?), a traitor, offers something to chew on.

Ranabaali is currently running in theatres