One of the most entertaining films I’ve seen in years, S.S. Rajamouli’s RRR (Rise, Roar, Revolt) (India, 2022) has made a minor dent in the U.S. film market, but has a very good chance of cracking the conventional American cinematic mainstream over time. But don’t take my word for it – the film has been streaming on Netflix since March, and is available to watch even as we speak. But beware – watching this three-hour thrill ride once will only compel you to go see it again in a real theater, and, much to my chagrin, your only chance to do that, up until now, was in March. The U.S. box office so far for the film is $11,375,288, placing it at #4,742 among theatrical releases. That’s not only sad, but gross negligence on the part of its U.S. distributors.
From the 1750s, administratively and militarily, India was managed by the East India Company. After the Indian Rebellion of 1857, the maintenance and management of the territory was transferred to and colonized by the British Empire (the British Raj). (This also included what we now know as Pakistan and Myanmar.) India’s active participation in World War I as part of the British effort, as well as their contributions toward founding the League of Nations and their competing in the 1920 Summer Olympics in Antwerp, led Indian leaders to start realistically considering Indian independence and self-rule. But growing insurgencies in Bengal province, Bombay and the Punjab resulted in the Rowlatt Bills in 1919, essentially restoring war-powers to British legal and military authorities. This (arguably) resulted in the Jallianwala Bagh massacre in the city of Amritsar, where British forces opened fire on thousands of protesting unarmed civilians. The brigadier-general in charge was dismissed, but treated as a hero back in the U.K., and Mahatma Gandhi arrived at the forefront of Indian activism.
The film takes place in the 1920s. The British territorial Governor for Delhi, Scott Buxton (Ray Stevenson), is doing a bit of hunting in the Adivasian forest while his wife, Catherine (Alison Doody), is being regaled by the native inhabitants of the woods, the Gond tribe. A young girl, Malli (Twinkle Sharma), is singing to Catherine while putting henna designs on her hands. Enchanted, Catherine points out Malli to the Governor upon his return, and they, astonishingly, take Malli away from her family and home with them, a heartrending lesson in British cruelty, arrogance and racism.
Meanwhile, Alluri Sitarama Raju (“Ram”) (Ram Charan Teja) is an Indian member of the clearly racist and sadistic British police, yet he still aspires to be an exemplary, almost superhuman, officer. After a thrilling display of his physical skills and devotion to duty during an uprising (the first of many jawdropping action sequences throughout the film), he is, of course, later passed over for recognition and promotion, displaced by nondescript white Britishers.
When a special advisor to the region of the Adivasian forest suggests to the Governor’s office that they may want to return the child they’ve kidnapped, he’s all but laughed out of the room. But, with steady and civil demeanor, he informs them of a “shepherd” who will be coming for their lost lamb, and who will stop at nothing, or for no one, until he’s accomplished his task. Still skeptical, the assistant to the Governor informs the police, even though they haven’t a clue as to whom he may be. With nothing to go on, the police think it’s hopeless, but the Governor’s wife Catherine raises the stakes for the man who brings in the shepherd by promising a high-ranking promotion. “Do you want him dead, or alive?” asks Alluri Sitarama Raju.
The shepherd who comes to Delhi with three other tribals is Komaram Bheem (N.T. Rama Rao Jr., known to Indian film fans as Jr.NTR), Malli’s brother, but they’re having real trouble digging up their own clues about where to find Malli or how to get her away. Bheem is going by the name of Akhtar, and has a gig as a motorcycle mechanic for cover. Ram, in search of “Akhtar,” frequents underground meetings of anti-colonial insurgents until he meets Lacchu (Rahul Ramakrishna), one of Akhtar’s accomplices. He befriends Lacchu, but his cover is inadvertently blown, and he loses Lacchu after a chase, which will drive him and Akhtar further underground.
But only a minute or two later, with things seeming dark for each of them, Ram stands on a bridge while Akhtar is under it, on the riverfront. A mishap occurs with a train running under the bridge – there’s an explosion, and a train car derails with more behind – with a small boy catching fish for Akhtar imperiled on the water below. Somehow, Ram and Akhtar make eye contact, and spring into action(!), resulting in our next gasp-inducing sequence of action choreography and stuntwork.
So the ensuing narrative takes shape – Ram has no idea that Akhtar is the shepherd, but a profound friendship develops between the two men. Will Akhtar free Malli from the evil Governor before Ram discovers who he is? How does Ram countenance how the British treat him? And how does this narrative expand into the greater insurgency against British Raj rule? Alluri Sitarama Raju and Komaram Bheem were indeed famous insurgent revolutionaries in early 20th century India. Each has a statue in tribute in their respective states, but they never met. Their partnership is a narrative conceit, and a superbly constructed one, by writer/director S.S. Rajamouli and co-writer Vijayendra Prasad, Rajamouli’s filmmaker father.
I won’t reveal anything else about the film, as the subsequent events of the film deserve to be discovered rather than related. Just know that I’ve only summarized the first 45 minutes of this terrific three-hour film.
The closest comparison to Rajamouli’s oeuvre may be James Cameron, another writer/director with thrilling, crowd-pleasing narrative conceits, prodigious technical skills and resources, and solid rapport with his actors. Rajamouli’s budgets are no doubt a fraction of Cameron’s, but he shares his taste and smarts in employing CGI seamlessly yet unobtrusively. Rajamouli’s earlier two-part opus, Baahubali (2015 and 2017), like Titanic or the first Avatar, set new box office records upon their release, and RRR is no exception.
So, by all means, see this movie however you can. Netflix is the easiest option right now, and scour those local-theater Indian-film listings you generally ignore. If any other theatrical screenings appear in the Chicago area, I’ll do my best to alert you. Top Gun: Maverick is impressive competition in the action category, but I can confidently say that this is, and will be, the best film I’ve seen all year.
One note: The film was shot in the Telegu language, but the version shown on Netflix is a Hindu dub. It won’t matter much to westerners, but it will to Indians.
Periscope In The Bathtub 