Okay. My brain is just... soup. Glorious, colorful, high-octane soup. It's 2:30 in the morning and I just finished Ala Vaikunthapurramuloo on Netflix and I think I need to go for a run around the block to burn off this energy. But I also can't move. My couch has me in a tractor beam and my fingers are just typing on their own.
Was that a movie or a three-hour-long music video that somehow also had a plot? I don't even care. It was glorious. From the second it started, the colors just... punch you in the face. In a good way! Everything is so bright and shiny and everyone is so attractive it's almost illegal. And the music! God, the music. Thaman S didn't just make a soundtrack, he mainlined pure dopamine directly into my veins. I had to pause it twice. Once to get a glass of water because my throat was dry from not breathing, and once to just... stand up. During "Ramulo Ramula." I couldn't help it. I was in my living room, in my stupid pajamas, just awkwardly shuffling around trying to replicate even a fraction of Allu Arjun's energy. I must have looked like a malfunctioning robot, but in that moment, I was a star. The cat was judging me, I could feel it, but I didn't care. That's the power of this movie. It makes you forget you're a dork on a couch at 2 AM.
And can we just talk about the introduction? Not a fight scene. Not a dramatic monologue. Just Bantu getting off a train. That's it. But the way he does it. It's in slow motion, the sun is hitting him just right, he's got these sunglasses on, he adjusts his jacket with this little flick of the wrist... it's pure, unadulterated swagger. It's the cinematic equivalent of that first sip of cold coffee on a hot day. It tells you everything you need to know about this character without a single word. He's cool, he's confident, he's the guy. That one shot is just stuck in my head, replaying on a loop. It's not an action scene, it's a personality scene, and it's more powerful than a hundred punches.
Honestly, the plot is kind of bonkers when you think about it. Two babies swapped at birth? The rich dad is a jerk, the poor dad is a jerk, but in different ways? It's like a Shakespearean comedy that got drunk at a wedding and decided to become a Tollywood blockbuster. And I ate every second of it up. The way Bantu goes from being the unloved son to the guy who fixes everything... it's so satisfying. He's not just a fighter, he's smart. He solves problems. He's the ultimate wish-fulfillment character. The guy who walks into a messed-up situation and just... makes it right with style and a killer soundtrack.
There's this whole dynamic with his "real" father, the rich guy Ramachandra (Jayaram). Bantu just wants his love, his approval. It hit me weirdly. Reminded me of this one time... I must have been like, 16. Our Wi-Fi at home was terrible and my dad kept complaining about it. So I spent an entire Saturday, watching YouTube tutorials, buying a new extender, trying to reconfigure the whole network. I was so determined to fix it and just have him look at me and say, "Good job, son." I messed everything up. Made it so much worse. He just came home, saw the mess, sighed, and called the internet guy. Didn't even yell. Just... that disappointed sigh. That's worse. Watching Bantu desperately try to win over his dad felt like that. That universal, desperate need for a pat on the head from the person who's supposed to give it.
But now that I'm typing this... was the emotional climax a bit much? The big confrontation where everyone is crying and the music is swelling and there's monologues everywhere? I was totally tearing up, I'm not gonna lie. My blanket was damp. But now, in the cold light of my laptop screen at 2:45 AM... was it kind of cheesy? Like, really cheesy? The dialogue got a bit... on the nose. I thought I loved it in the moment, but now I'm second-guessing myself. Did I just get manipulated by expert-level melodrama? I don't know. I think I don't care. It worked. It got me.
And watching this on Netflix is such a weird experience. On one hand, I love the comfort. I'm curled up in my favorite blanket, I can pause it to make toast, I can rewind that one dance move from "Butta Bomma" (which, by the way, is a work of art and should be in a museum) like ten times. But on the other hand, this movie feels like it was made for a thousand people screaming in a theater. The energy is so massive. My laptop speakers were straining. The bass was rattling my little side table. I feel like I only experienced, like, 70% of the movie's intended power. It's like watching a volcano erupt on your phone. You get the idea, but you're missing the heat and the ground shaking. My Wi-Fi even buffered for a second right before the big fight in the second half. The AUDACITY. It completely killed the vibe for a split second. I almost threw my remote at the TV.
So yeah. It's a mess. A beautiful, loud, colorful, emotionally manipulative mess. The plot has more holes than my favorite t-shirt, some of the comedy is a bit silly, and the emotional beats might be a bit... extra. But who cares? Allu Arjun's performance is electric. Pooja Hegde is luminous. Tabu is a badass. The music is a drug. It's a pure injection of joy. It's three hours of escapism that leaves you breathless and happy. I feel like I could run a marathon right now. Or at least dance to the end credits again.
Okay, my brain is officially fried. I need to sleep.
9/10. - banger
-ishaan