Rishab Shetty’s ‘Kantara: Chapter 1’ Is a Stunning Visual Spectacle
Rishab Shetty’s epic saga may be less potent and primal than its predecessor, but it’s no less breathtaking.
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It seems poetic somehow that Kantara: Chapter 1 releases in the same month as the 10-year anniversary re-release of Baahubali. Rarely since S.S. Rajamouli’s landscape-defining two-part epic have I felt this level of “how-did-they-pull-that-off” admiration at the absolute conviction, stunning execution, and thunderous scale of an Indian film.
Kantara: Chapter 1—writer-director-star Rishab Shetty’s prequel to his 2022 film, which took the nation by storm,—has all the features of a typical “sequel”. It’s bigger, flashier, more scattered, and less potent. But strictly as a feat of filmmaking and painstaking craft, it’s a thing to marvel at.
Chapter 1 is set hundreds of years before the events of the 2022 film and follows the lives of the people of Kantara generations earlier. But just as history has a way of repeating itself, so do franchises.
The broader stakes here—of violent oppression giving way to deity-powered revenge—remain the same. The people of the forest-dwelling tribal community of Kantara are seen as lesser by the nearby kingdom of Bangara and its “sophisticated” royal leaders. But Kantara and its people are protected by Devais (spirits) who fend off any greedy rulers who dare stake their claim on the land.
Rishab Shetty plays Berme, a resident of Kantara who has a particularly strong connection with the Devais. For one, he was found abandoned as a child at the bottom of a deep well, that’s considered the heart of the forest.
Stunningly Crafted Set Pieces
After fighting off the latest incursion of Bangaran soldiers on their land (a gloriously staged one-take sequence), Berme and a handful of companions decide to travel to the kingdom and give them a taste of their own medicine. Recently ascended to the throne of Bangara is the brash, obnoxious prince-turned-king Kulasekhara—played by a solid Gulshan Devaiah—who straddles the line between animated, entitled manchild and ruthless ruler.
Gulshan Devaiah in a still from Kantara Chapter 1
(Photo Courtesy: YouTube)
On entering Bangara, Berme and his motley crew are enamoured by the thriving city, its bustling markets and ports. But sightseeing quickly gives way to playful chaos as the outsiders disrupt everything and everyone they come into contact with.
While running from soldiers after being discovered, Berme and his companions climb onto a chariot that barrels through the market, levelling everything in its path. It’s a cheeky, stunningly fluid sequence that doesn’t hit a single false note—a rare instance of ambition and imagination meeting slick execution in a film of this scale.
Elsewhere, too, the work of cinematographer Arvind S. Kashyap, production designer Banglan, VFX supervisor K. V. Sanjit, and costume designer Pragathi Rishab Shetty collide gloriously, creating a rich world that’s far greater than the sum of its parts.
The VFX work in particular, featuring countless animal assaults throughout the film, is some of the finest we’ve seen in an Indian cinematic spectacle.
A Feast For The Senses More Than The Soul
But the fish-out-of-water first half of Kantara: Chapter 1 leans hard into humour. The constant quips and animated tonality of Berme and his companions exploring the kingdom risk undercutting the larger emotional stakes of oppression.
In chasing wonder and adventure, the narrative temporarily sidelines the heart-wrenching reality of the people of Kantara being seen as little more than wild animals. It’s here that you can feel the crowd-pleasing agenda baked into a narrative clearly designed to grab a wider audience compared to its predecessor. We even see this in the furious pacing from editor Suresh Mallaiah, who races from one scene to the next to ensure the audience is never “bored.”
It’s also in this first half that we see Berme embrace trading as he strives for the economic prosperity of his people. As he gives in to his natural-born leader instincts, Bangara’s princess Kanakavathi (an excellent Rukmini Vasanth) begins to fall for him.
A still from Kantara Chapter 1
(Photo Courtesy: YouTube)
And like that film, here too the narrative risks meandering by spending an extended amount of time lost in the forest. In the earlier film, it was Shiva hiding from the authorities; here, it’s Berme facing off against the rival Kadaba tribe in a lengthy setup aimed at establishing further rules of mysticism and deities. But it’s harder to invest in the “evilness” of the Kadaba tribe compared to the tyrannical, entitled elite of Bangara, who seek to subjugate and enslave.
Execution Over Emotion
The horrors of the violence toward the downtrodden, innocent people of Kantara are largely contained to a single sequence, rather than serving as a theme that runs through the entire movie. And this is a lot of movie.
After what I thought was the final face-off (with the return of the haunting Guliga Daiva), we get an entire remaining hour to set up an even grander final battle. It’s this last leg that’s easiest to get lost in, as it’s jam-packed with tradition, religious rituals, symbolism, and dense exposition about the various Devas and mystical elements.
There’s a brief moment in a cave where Berme faces a giant CGI creature that risked yanking me out of the film entirely. It’s here that the film risks undoing its own appeal—of folklore, spirits, injustice, and rage—the internal—by giving in to flashy, empty VFX monsters and magic—the external.
As Berme, Rishab Shetty delivers a masterful physical performance, effortlessly gliding between everyone the film needs him to be - playful, cheeky “hero," noble protector, ruthless warrior, and vessel for the otherworldly. His inimitable “possession” sequences remain every bit as unsettling. While it remains a feat of execution over emotion, with Chapter 1, Rishab leaps into the ranks of a handful of Indian filmmakers who can pull off scale and coordinate artistry at this level.
Kantara Chapter 1 is out in theatres on October 2.
(Suchin Mehrotra is a critic and film journalist who covers Indian cinema for a range of publications. He's also the host of The Streaming Show podcast on his own YouTube channel. This is an opinion piece, and the views expressed above are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for the same.)