Guntur Kaaram review: Trivikram, Mahesh Babu serve old, not-so-savoury flavours

It is as though the weight of success comes down heavy almost every time on Trivikram who then sleepwalks into his next to shake off that glitter. Interestingly, one approached his latest Guntur Kaaram with the same caveat, especially considering the film has been marred with negative publicity in the lead-up to its release.

But does Guntur Kaaram fall into this unintended pattern of his? Well, it depends on who you ask. If you are someone who doesn’t mind a rehash of Trivikram’s recent films, then you won’t mind the new film. If not, then this one doesn’t particularly offer anything new or novel. At its heart, Guntur Kaaram is about the writer-director’s favourite theme(s) — of estrangement, of homecoming.

A pastiche with no new tone, treatment

The story is centred on the relationship between the characters played by Mahesh Babu and his on-screen mother Ramya Krishnan. The latter, named Vyra Vasundhara in the film, is a sworn-in minister in the present time but not very long ago, she was married to a Guntur chilli merchant (played by Jayaram). The opening moments of the film reveal that a substantial incident compels Vasundhara to leave her husband, leave their child Ramana (Mahesh Babu) behind for a life of political glory, which has been carefully etched out by her father Venkataswamy (Prakash Raj).

This bit of synopsis alone is enough to suggest to you that Guntur Kaaram brims with Trivikram’s familiar tropes and characters. There’s the son, the heir, who is relegated to the background only because of a misunderstanding (as in Ala Vaikunthapurramuloo). There’s the mother who has severed relationships with her real family (Attarintiki Daredi, A Aa, etc.) and is headstrong about it. There’s also the narrative that features a vigorous power tussle comprising a few elites, a strong dose of antagonism, action, romance, humour and, of course, the filmmaker’s trademark play on words.

The problem, though, occurs when Trivikram refuses to lend a new tone or treatment to his own pastiche. Almost every aspect or broad stroke of Guntur Kaaram feels repetitive. Be it the visual aesthetics, the beats in the screenplay, the interpersonal dynamics of the characters or even the use of music, you realize that you have seen him try out each element not once but multiple times in the recent past. It almost feels as though he is caught in a creative rut of some kind at the moment and is unable to break free.

Could the same be said about Mahesh Babu? Maybe, but with a hint of hesitation. The superstar has previously worked with Trivikram to deliver two distinctive outings in Athadu (2005) and Khaleja (2010), but their reunion, as it were, isn’t exactly the event we were all hoping it to be. Make no mistake that Mahesh Babu is in fine form here and is at his best while dispensing those one-liners in his unique quirky manner. It is just that everything around him — the story, the mood, the staging — doesn’t seem as enterprising as in his prior collaborations with the filmmaker at the helm. 

One could lament that the 48-year-old actor hasn’t been at the top of his game over the last few years, with films like Bharat Ane Nenu, Maharshi, Sarkaru Vaari Paata, etc. being pulled up by critics and audiences alike for being uninventive and too simplistic. In Guntur Kaaram, he gets to don a new image as the beedi-smoking, tender-hearted ruffian, but the film just does not live up to the billing.

Not quite striking enough

In a lot of ways, Guntur Kaaram bears stark similarities with Ala Vaikunthapurramuloo, except the latter feels far less contrived. Consider the manner in which the mother-son conflict is dealt with in the two movies. In Ala Vaikunthapurramuloo, all Trivikram needed was a couple of small yet incredibly potent ‘moments’ to establish that there’s some kind of resonance between Allu Arjun and Tabu’s characters. Sure, this dynamic wasn’t the focal point of the film but the writer in Trivikram was able to navigate that complexity with such ease that it gets registered without any push. In Guntur Kaaram, however, the same relationship, which is, in fact, meant to be emotionally stronger in comparison, seems unexplored despite all the valiant attempts.

The lacklustre writing is also visible in the way the romance portion is treated in the latest film. Again, in Ala Vaikunthapurramuloo, Pooja Hegde’s character boasted substance and relevance to the story and wasn’t rendered as a mere placeholder. In Guntur Kaaram, Sreeleela ends up being an ‘eye candy’, of sorts, and hardly has any role to play in the large scheme of things. So, every time Trivikram cuts away from the central plot to the ‘love portions’ in the film, it feels as though he is only extending the run time without the need.

There is a plenitude of action, as expected, but Trivikram ends up using it to appease Mahesh Babu fans and not really to add a new ‘edge’ to his storytelling. The filmmaker’s dialogues, though, land quite well and it helps that his principal cast — also including Prakash Raj, Jayaram, Rao Ramesh, Easwari Rao, Murali Sharma and others — is well equipped to take on the task with gravitas. Ramya Krishnan and Prakash Raj, in particular, hold their own in the film.

Similarly, Vennela Kishore, as the perpetually stressed-out junior lawyer, is as reliable as ever and many of the film’s brightest moments are because of his repartee with Mahesh Babu and Sreeleela. S. Thaman, the music composer, misses the mark this time around and barring the title track, no other Guntur Kaaram song strikes a chord. Manoj Paramahamsa and P. S. Vinod’s cinematography is eliciting only in certain portions, particularly in the Kurchi Madathapetti song.

As you walk out of the cinema hall, it is likely that you are feeling quite placid or unmoved because the film you just watched isn’t as exciting as you wished for it to be. That isn’t to say that Guntur Kaaram is dull or boring. The issue is that you expected a lot more and what was delivered in turn, is just not up to the mark. Despite all the frills and the masala, Trivikram’s film is not striking enough largely because of the lack of any inventiveness on his part, whatsoever. It is definitely about time that he recalibrates and brings back the mojo that gave us films like Athadu, Khaleja and, of course, Ala Vaikunthapurramuloo.