‘Kuberaa’ movie review: Sekhar Kammula’s brave film is imperfect, yet compelling

In broad terms, Kuberaa is the story of a capitalist exploiting those who are below the poverty line. How these two worlds collide makes all the difference. A multi-billionaire (Jim Sarbh as Neeraj Mitra) believes ‘fame is power’. He lives in a Mumbai high-rise that has an infinity pool. At the other end of the spectrum are those who beg for alms, whom this film describes as the ‘invisible’, brushed aside at traffic signals and at places of worship as an inconvenience.

The first hour unravels the different worlds. A pacy opening sequence establishes the power games of the business tycoon, who does not flinch at dispensing with lives for his ambition. Jim Sarbh does not miss a beat as the cold, calculating antagonist. His ability to speak Telugu, with all the intonations, is a bonus.

Sekhar introduces his key players in a non-formulaic manner. When Dhanush, as Deva the beggar, comes into view, the audience cheers. The actor has played realistic characters that represent the oppressed sections of society in the past with admirable consistency. Here, he takes it a notch higher. The writing gives him, and his associates, enough material to work with as the narrative takes a close look at the life of beggars. Even if groomed and dressed up in the best of suits, can they grasp what is happening around them? Can they be exploited for the bare minimum needs of food and shelter? A telling sequence shows the lack of dignity in their death.

These polar opposite worlds cross paths with the help of CBI officer Deepak Tej (Nagarjuna), now behind bars for just doing his job. Nagarjuna plays a man in turmoil, one who wants to do the right thing but is manipulated to go against his conscience. Nagarjuna conveys the anguish of his character with restrained intensity. His body language and eyes convey the plight of a lion, now caged.

It takes a while for the narrative to find its rhythm, as it shifts between the characters. Niketh Bommi’s cinematography and Thota Tharani’s production design establish the uber-luxurious world of Neeraj Mitra, with imposing structures that dwarf those who work for him. At other times, Niketh and Tharani work in the background, staying invisible and letting the attention remain solely on the story and its characters. Substantial portions of the film unfold in real locations, from Mumbai’s landmarks to the garbage dumps, and all of this adds credence to the narrative.

The narrative comes to a boil once the cards are revealed and a cat-and-mouse game for survival begins. A character’s love for animals also adds depth to the proceedings.

If three characters — representing the uber rich, the middle class, and the lower strata — caught in a tangle is not enough, a fourth character brings an edge to the drama. The quiet yet effective introduction shot of Rashmika Mandanna as Sameera is worth a mention. As the film progresses, she is a revelation, blending innocence, helplessness and gentle humour.

Through the film, Sekhar questions if one man’s greed and ambition should throw everyone else into a spiral. Do the oppressed not stand a chance to survive with dignity? The questions recur and there are times the writing gets preachy.

Some of the best portions are when the film is in a thriller zone with the possibility of the tables turning. There is trust, betrayal, and a quest for redemption.

However, the final portions are a tad unconvincing. It appears as though the director, who has written the film with his long-time associate Chaitanya Pingali, wanted to move away from a predictable path and instead, deliver poetic justice.

The transitions between a few sequences also feel abrupt. For instance, it takes a while to discern that four beggars have been brought in from four different corners of the country.

A subplot involving a pregnant woman (despite being convincingly portrayed) is like a sore thumb; so is a brief flashback involving a young mother. A few years ago, while remaking Sujoy Ghosh’s Kahaani in Telugu (as Anamika), Sekhar refrained from portraying his protagonist as a pregnant woman, arguing that he did not want to evoke audience sympathy merely by showing a pregnant woman in distress. Here, however, this aspect is played up and the character’s conclusion seems contrived. A one-note sidekick of the antagonist is also annoying.

A few deft touches that work in favour of the narrative are the nuggets of Deva’s childhood and his tenacity to survive. In a scene, Deva bathing in water that streams from a broken pipeline, against the words ‘save water’, which shows the cracks in urban infrastructure. Deva’s frequent query about the day of the week and how it ties up to food and religion is a smart observation. Also chuckle-worthy is how a character promises to offer a diamond crown to the temple if his problems are solved.

Kuberaa leaves a few questions unanswered towards the end. These niggles stop the story from being wholly compelling. Music composer Devi Sri Prasad who deftly switches between the different worlds, makes us overlook a few rough edges with his score that is sometimes subdued and at other times, rousing.

Kuberaa falls short of being a gamechanger. But it is a brave film from a director who has often stepped away from the norm, and raised pertinent questions. That is ample reason to cheer.

Kuberaa is currently running in theatres