For this is a story that was constructed around one Balayya, two babies, three heroines, four duets and a bazillion fights instead of plot points or story beats.Īll Balayya's other trademarks are here as well. This is but a solitary one of the many clichés flowing through this movie's veins. So who is Gowri and why does Narasimha want to protect her? You've most probably guessed the answer, and you, sir/madam, win nothing of value in return. The main plot kicks in in the second half as we find Narasimha trying to protect Gowri (Nayantara) and her family (which includes a child who is identical to the one he raises) from a set of thugs led by Raji Reddy (Ashutosh Rana). Well, director K S Ravikumar and writer M Ratnam took your time and money, didn't they? Hopefully, they'll take your questions, too. Why does it exists if it doesn't serve the film, you ask. Now does all this have anything to do with the primary plot? Absolutely not.
In the first half, Narasimha defends a family, galvanizes a group of priests, indulges in unfunny and outdated sexual innuendo with the comic relief, romances the first of three heroines (played by Natasha Doshi who literally goes unnamed), lectures an ASP, and kicks so much ass that it almost tricks you into forgetting his vow of non-violence. But the spectre of commercial cinema won't let him do that - destruction follows him wherever he goes because the movie needs to be near three hours long. Narasimha's solitary goal is to raise the child in a violence-free environment. Narasimha (Balakrishna) is a coolie / driver / mason who comes pre-packaged with an excellent wig and a cute baby. However, instead of being hilariously over-the-top, Jai Simha has a story that is both needlessly complicated and thread-bare. And so I walked into Jai Simha, Balayya's newest mass offering, hoping it would have a moment that would top said scene.
This quest has given us moments that include him jumping off a multi-storey building by using inflatable pillows to cushion his fall, controlling a bunch of attack dogs with a mere stare, and a plethora of gravity-defying dance moves, to name but a few.īut no matter how ludicrously joyous these moments were, they never managed to capture the sheer elation I felt when I set my eyes on the aforementioned scene involving the train. Secondly, a goal of all his "mass" movies thereafter was to top that iconic moment by hook or crook. Ever since the day Nandamuri Balakrishna aka Balayya Babu made a train move backwards by his "thoda kottadam" (thigh slapping), two things happened.
0 kommentar(er)
