'Dorasaani', starring Anand Deverakonda and Shivathmika Rajasekhar, hit the screens this Friday. Directed by KVR Mahendra, it comes amid decent expectations. Here is our review of the drama.
Story:
The film is set in the 1980s, when most villages in India were in the vice-like grip of landlords who would double up as destiny-makers of the poor.
Raju (Anand Deverakonda) lives in a backward village in Telangana's Warangal. When he accidentally catches a glimpse of Devaki (Shivathmika Rajasekhar), the daughter of the village's 'dora' (head), it's love at first sight for him. The guy has a knack for writing poetry and, before you know, he communicates his feelings to Devaki poetically.
Love sprouts, thrives and goes on a slow-motion rampage.
Very soon, the 'dora' comes to know of his daughter's love affair with Raju.
The rest of the film is about what happens to the relationship between the Raju-Devaki duo in a village that is slowly embracing the lure of Naxal radicalism.
Analysis:
Debutant writer-director KVR Mahendra makes a largely rooted film. After 'Mallesham' a few weeks back, here is one more drama that shows a mirror to the social realities of rural India. Both of these may be period films, but the emotions they evoke are universal. (But between the entrepreneurial vision of a Chintakindi Mallesham and the problematic idealism of Annalu, also known as Naxalites, you know which one is desirable).
'Dorasaani' has this quality of enticing the audience with poetic narration in the first half, leaving mundane scenes for the second half. When Raju falls in love with the feudal lord's daughter, he doesn't become a gutsy guy overnight. Things just start falling in place for him. He calls her up accidentally without knowing what he is doing. He reels off romantic poetry because that's what he can think of in the tense moment. He is not unrealistically gutsy. He is accidentally lucky.
The scene where he uses a red cloth that has special meaning to Devaki to stop her from leaving the village is filled with magic. The entire beauty of this scene is unstated; it is all implicit and visual.
After a point, the film becomes a musical drama here and there, and the interludes are welcome.
Devaki stays in a 'Gadi' and is not exposed to the outside world. It is in this closed chamber that love for Raju blossoms in her and it is in a 'closed chamber' that Raju's soulful poetry, written on the back of Communist pamphlets, gets buried forever.
The poor in the village are conscious of their low social status, some of them comment about Devaki's love affair right in the presence of the 'dora' (this is realistic, but most directors have always thought that is not how it happens in real life), the debt trap in which the villages live is heart-rending (especially without any sort of emotional manipulation at play).
The shot division is outstanding. The highly-efficient technical team consists of Prashanth R Vihari (the songs and the RR are elevating and evocative), Sunny Korapati (whose frames pack in remarkable hues and shades), and the sound design is another highpoint.
The newcomers have delivered a dekko. Anand Deverakonda is measured, restrained in how he speaks, smiles minimally, doesn't go overboard anywhere. Shivathmika surely emotes with her eyes, her voice is sweet, she strikes instant chemistry with the male lead. The performances are helped by the slice-of-life conversations (penned by the director himself). Kishore, as a Naxal leader, is good.
Everything said, 'Dorasaani' is definitely found wanting in many respects. The character of the feudal lord is uni-dimensional and his gazes are too dramatic. More than this, the neglect of Raju for a good part of the film is not really excusable. Somehow, we feel he slides into occasional oblivion.
The second half has too many snail-paced scenes. The film starts losing its distinction right from the first scene of the second half. It becomes either generic or cliched.
Verdict:
'Dorasaani' gets its basics right for the most part. Neat performances, striking technical output, and the commendable first half are hits. The slow-moving second half with its attendant cliches and indulgences are misses.
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