Salaar: Part 1 – Ceasefire Review: From Prabhas to star turn, Prithviraj Sukumaran is the main draw
The mind-numbing power of unrelenting violence is on full display throughout the three hours of absolute gore. Salar: Part 1 – The Ceasefire.All the bloodshed that the film inflicts has a wonderful effect on the audience, taking it into an emotional state that makes the shocks a bit palatable.
Although the Telugu-language epic – this critic has seen the film’s Hindi dub – is set in a terrain that’s far less dusty than the two chapters in writer-director Prashant Neel’s Kannada actioner KGF, the heat it generates is just as scalding and the decibel levels are almost as high. Either.
Aaradhya (Shruti Haasan), who returns from the US to a chaotic universe where some people want her dead because of an act her father did years ago, is the human reservoir through which the story flows. The description he receives from the man assigned to keep him safe boggles his mind.
Hearing the complex story of Khansar, a fierce and lawless country divided into more than 100 regions and populated by three tribes, to his bitter end, he said: Wait, wait, I need a drink. Daru hai kya? Well, that’s exactly what most of us would react to unless we can figure out how to match director Prashant Neel’s breath-taking storytelling style.
It thrives on word upon word, sound upon word, and image upon image without making room for the slightest crack for light to enter. The film – it lurches like a runaway train – does not give the audience time to think.
But it is not necessarily meant as mockery. There’s something about the jarring, disorienting rhythm of Salar: Part 1 that ensures listeners are never let off the hook. The pace at which the film details its plot and sub-plots takes some doing to keep up.
By not allowing the viewer to pause to wonder what’s going on, the film manages to set off its dizzying pace not only as an integral part of its design but also as its primary selling point. At the end of the maximalist pulp that it imposes on us, we actually push our cognitive and auditory powers as far as possible to perceive things going on with varying degrees of success.
The first half of Salaar: Part 1 is entirely devoted to the story of brooding and invincible Devarath (Prabhas), his relationship with his mother (Ishwari Rao) and his friendship with Baradha Raja Mannar (Prithviraj) 25 years ago. Sukumaran), the son of the second wife of the present ruler of Khansa, Raja Manna (Jagapati Babu).
Running for over 90 minutes, the film sets the stage for Khansare Dev’s dramatic presence in the 1000-year-old kingdom where a bloody war of succession is raging between the ruling Mannar tribe and the Shaurangya and Ghania tribes to usurp the throne of Varada’s father. .
Vardha and Dev haven’t seen each other in years but when things get out of hand in Khansar and a palace coup looms over the rulers, the former begs the latter for help in realizing just how terrifying her long-estranged friend is. A fearsome warrior.
Varada’s enemies have enlisted the support of militias from all over the world – Russia, Austria, Ukraine, Serbia – but Dev is truly a one-man army. He is, predictably, too much of a handful for any outfit or person.
In a pivotal scene in the first half, a reluctant Dev springs into action to save Aaradhya from a gang of evil goons after her mother advises her to break her vow of non-violence. It was at his request that he decided never to fight again. Once the sluice gates are opened, Dev is unstoppable.
Whenever his childhood pal Varadha faces any danger, he becomes fearless. He becomes especially fierce when a girl is in trouble. One character points out that in every girl who feels threatened by men, she sees her mother.
Whether it’s a machine gun, a knife, or just his bare hands, he takes any enemy above his head and shoulders that stands in his way. He bulldozes into situations where copious amounts of blood are shed between injuries, lacerations, and decapitations.
It’s not a pretty sight, but the superior performance quality that gives the choreographed action – Deva’s gaze and movement like that of an energetic prize boxer who walks into the ring knowing full well he’s destined to win – provides a string of unsettlingly bloody but oddly mesmerizing moments. .
The film’s visual palette consists of muted colors rather than full color splashes. Salar: Part 1 looks and feels like a very dim universe where the stray rays of light are not of the visible uninterrupted and illuminating kind.
Halfway through the second half the subdued visuals are punctuated with the dull russet of a saree, a few brightly patterned umbrellas and a multi-coloured kite and then, in the climactic passage, broken by the sight of blood.
Cinematographer Bhuvan Gowda’s camerawork and lighting (aided, of course, by hyper-kinetic visual effects and elaborate digital intermediate work) create frames that are dominated by faded browns, pitch blacks and gloomy grays – not entirely different from what the pictures were. In KGF – to create a terrifying portrait.
The sound design and background score, which is as penetrating as KGF, reinforces the violent nature of life in Khansar, a place where the ruler instills fear in his subjects and his enemies. He says at one point: We are all violent people; Violence is in our blood.
Not all of that. Varada’s main antagonists drug 100 men over a period of time and turn them into bloodthirsty predators who pounce like hyenas on anything red. One of the two heroes warns that Khansar will soon turn red either from the leaping fire or from the flowing blood. The film provides generous doses of both.
Solid star turns from Prabhas and Prithviraj Sukumaran are the main draw of Salaar: Part 1 – Ceasefire. The rest of the film’s appeal lies in the allure of unbridled extravagance.
