HanuMan Review: Teja Sajja’s film is Ambitious and Energetic if not Original

HanuMan released in theatres on January 12.

In a sequence from Prashanth Varma’s HanuMan, a woman who has returned to a village from the city, stands up against the Poligar, a benevolent bully who charges people a fee in exchange for protection. The woman reminds everyone that the position existed to protect the natives from bandits and miscreants. Without that looming threat (the village looks and feels utopian) does it really serve any real purpose to raise overbearing, violent bullies? It’s a scene that hints at the sensitive exploration of the phenomenon of heroism itself. It takes an outsider to introduce the stroke of objectivity to a milieu thickened by insecurity and social bias. And though there are variables that suggest the film might actually there, HanuMan instead turns to the coming-of-age tropes of the comic book hero. It’s not as indigenous as its underdog protagonist, but it does in its own way, make a decent meal out of old masalas and fresh cuts.

The film starts in an urban corner of India with masked vigilante, Michael (Vinay Rai) unleashing violence on criminals from the streets. He fantasises about becoming a superhero with actual powers. Again, it’s a fascinating starting point, with a sociopathic character harnessing the darker side of the god complex. It’s not even a villainous snapshot, for it merely indicates this desperation for uniqueness. We have seen common men lust after uncommon strength, but here the intent at first, feels clean and mannered. You just hope at this point that the script is brave enough to not reduce the story to a battle between good and evil. Unfortunately, it’s exactly what it does.

Once the promising, but ultimately undermined prelude is out of the way, the film moves lock, stock and barrel to the site of Anjanadari, a Saurashtra set village with a ginormous Hanuman statue overlooking a patch of population. The deity hangs over the narrative, much like the title hovers around it protagonist with a sense of clear destiny. A confrontation between the village bully and Hanumantha’s love interest Meenakshi (Amritha Aiyer) has a domino effect that hands our protagonist a magical precious, all-powering stone. Which is basically short-hand for ‘we couldn’t really think of a modern synonym for this age-old trope’. The rest of the film is expectedly loud, vast and daft all at once. It’s as light-footed and persevering as it can also feel convenient and simplistic.

For starters the film directed and written by Prashanth Varma, HanuMan at least has ambition in no small way limited by its actual capabilities. The audacity is there, but not so much the execution. The world-building is credible and maybe even promising, but it struggles to exhibit finesse that a spectacle of such bold ambition deserved. To nurture this scale without a recognisable face or sellable names, is maybe a feat in perseverance itself. Compared to Adipurush, that disastrously cockeyed fable of incompetence and insincerity, HanuMan at least has heart. It’s also nimbler, energetic and righteous about pursuing at least that one bracket which all of cinema ought to seek – entertainment.

Where HanuMan particularly struggles is its writing. It promises something sharper than the film it eventually becomes and even though littered with symbolism, it can’t quite solder the fluidity of a hero’s birth to the metallic truisms of mythology. It externalises mythology to the point that it becomes more comic book than the other way round. Admittedly, it’s not the easiest of tasks to walk this bridge, but given the extravagance it wants to, as a matter of execution herald the film struggles to adjudicate for itself the label of originality. It instead feels borrowed, stale and ends up wrestling rich material to the ground as opposed to tenderly lifting it into a direction that feels refreshing, and much like faces of the film, young.

All that said HanuMan is, at least, earnest and energetic in the manner it goes about dispensing its chronicle of birth, followed by rebirth. There is this rawness to the performances, the adolescent dialogue and the restless body mechanisms on display that make it joyously youthful. There is energy and zest to the set-pieces, the angst, the romantic excitement on offer. And though the shoes don’t quite match the feet, you can at least strap in for a ride that is dynamic if not authoritative. Compared to the dull and uninspired Adipurush, at least HanuMan wants to do something than the bare minimum. It’s another matter that most of that something is beating around a familiar bush before expectedly dialling the clock back, instead of forward. It is, however, still watchable and somewhat rewarding to see another film Indianise a western ideal at admirable scale. We aren’t there yet but this is good enough for a step along the way.