My brain feels like it’s been put in a blender with a cheap synthesizer and a fistful of glitter. I just finished Disco Raja on Netflix and I think my ears are ringing. It’s 2:17 AM and the screen is dark but I can still see flashing neon lights behind my eyeballs. What WAS that? Seriously. What did I just watch?
I started it because I was scrolling, you know how it is, thumb just going numb on the remote, and the title popped up. Disco Raja. How could I not click? The poster had Ravi Teja looking like a lost member of the Bee Gees who’d gotten into a fight with a lightning storm. I was in. I was already curled up under my favorite blanket on the couch, a half-eaten bag of chips precariously balanced on the cushion next to me. This was a prime-time, couch-locked, OTT experience. No way I’d go to a theater for this, even if it was playing. I need the freedom to pause and stare at the wall in confusion, which I did. A lot.
So the movie starts, and it’s like, gritty crime thriller? Some dude gets buried in the snow. I’m leaning in, okay, this is serious. And then BAM! We’re in a disco. It’s the 80s. Everyone has more hair product than brain cells. The whiplash is real. I actually had to grab the remote and check if I’d accidentally switched to a different movie. Nope. Same one. This movie is just… like that. It just throws everything at the wall. Sci-fi, revenge, family drama, romance, a guy who literally breaks into dance to intimidate people. I’m not complaining. I think.
There’s this one scene. It’s the core of the whole thing, I guess. They’re reviving this guy, Vasu, in this high-tech lab. And it’s not a gentle, serene sci-fi revival. It’s pure chaos. Blue electricity is arcing across his body, steam is blasting everywhere, scientists are screaming in what I assume is Telugu but sounded like pure panic. One of them is yelling “Increase the power!” and I’m just sitting there, mouth open, chips forgotten. The sound design on Netflix was cranked up and my little TV speakers were straining. It felt like the room was vibrating. I physically leaned forward, like getting closer to the screen would help me understand what was happening. It was so over-the-top, so ridiculously dramatic, but it’s stuck in my head. It’s the perfect metaphor for the entire movie: a jolt of pure, unadulterated, nonsensical energy.
It kind of reminded me of when I was a kid, maybe ten, and I found this old, broken toy robot in my grandma’s attic. One of its arms was torn off and the voicebox was fried, so it just made this horrible static-y groan. I took it down to my little workshop in the garage—which was really just a cardboard box—and I spent all afternoon trying to "fix" it. I had my toy tools, I was wrapping it in duct tape, I was talking to it like I was a brilliant scientist bringing my creation back to life. "LIVE, ROBOT, LIVE!" I probably shouted. My mom thought I was having a seizure. I got it to sort of twitch when I connected two wires, and I felt like I had conquered the world. Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is the movie feels like that kid’s imagination. Just pure, unfiltered "wouldn't it be cool if…?"
Ravi Teja is just… a force of nature. The man has the energy of a thousand suns. He’s playing the son of the revived guy, who is also basically the spitting image of his dad, which is convenient. And then there’s the actual Disco Raja, the gangster from the 80s. The wig. The outfits. The sheer audacity. I thought I loved it. I really did. I was laughing, I was pumped. But now that I’m typing this and the initial shock is wearing off… was the villain’s whole thing actually kind of dumb? The motivation was so convoluted, like a soap opera writer’s fever dream. Was it cool or was it just loud? I don't know. I can’t decide. I’m confused.
And the romance! Don’t even get me started. It just… appears. There’s a pretty girl, she hates him, then a song happens, then she loves him. It’s the cinematic equivalent of a math equation where you just skip all the steps and write down the answer. (I was terrible at math, by the way). But I’ll be damned if that song on the beach wasn’t a total bop. I paused it right after to go get a drink of water and the tune was just stuck in my head, humming in the kitchen in the dead of night.
Honestly, the whole plot is like that. It makes zero sense if you think about it for more than five seconds. The science is magic. The logic is a suggestion. But you’re not supposed to think. You’re supposed to feel. You’re supposed to just strap in and let the neon chaos wash over you. I jumped when a song kicked in at full volume after a super quiet, tense scene. My heart literally pounded. My cat, who was sleeping on my feet, shot up and gave me the most disgusted look before storming off. She judged me. And honestly, she was right to. This is a stupid movie.
But I had fun. I think. My head hurts a little. My eyes are burning. I feel like I need to listen to some ambient nature sounds for about six hours to cleanse my palate. But I’m not mad I watched it. It’s an experience. It’s a movie that exists, and against all odds, I’m glad I saw it from the safety and comfort of my own couch, where I could pause it to question my own sanity without anyone judging me. Except my cat.
Okay, that’s it. My brain is done.
6/10. - decent
-Ishaan