Kantara: A Legend Chapter-1

My heart feels like it’s trying to beat a Kathakali rhythm out of my ribcage. I’m serious. I just finished it. Just clicked ‘X’ on the Netflix player and my room is dead silent but my head is SCREAMING. I don't even know where to start.

Okay. So. That just happened. On my couch. With my laptop propped up on a pillow because I’m too lazy to get my proper setup. And honestly? I feel like the movie possessed my living room. There were points where I had to pause it just to, like, remember to breathe. I got up to get water and I was walking on my tiptoes, like I was scared I’d disturb something. It felt like walking out of a church in the middle of a sermon.

That one scene. The one with the fire. The rain starts coming down, not like normal rain, but like the sky is weeping. And he starts the dance. It’s not a performance, it’s a conversation. With the earth. With the gods. With whatever the hell is in that forest. The camera did this thing, this insane thing, where it pushed in so tight on his eyes you could see the fire reflected in them, and then it would whip-cut to the bonfire, then back to his eyes, back to the fire. It was like the camera was hyperventilating with him. I literally leaned forward so far I almost slid off the couch. My body just reacted. I couldn’t stop myself.

It reminded me of something, so random. When I was a kid, maybe 8 or 9, my grandpa took me to this tiny, forgotten temple deep in a rubber plantation back home. It wasn't a fancy temple, just some stones under a massive old tree. He told me the tree was a god and that the whole forest was its kingdom. He said you could feel it watching you if you were quiet enough. I remember the air being thick and heavy, smelling of damp earth and incense. This movie… this movie bottled that exact feeling. The smell, the weight of the air, the feeling of being watched by something ancient and powerful. I completely forgot about that memory until now. Wow. Okay. Anyway.

And the CGI for the… the divine form. The final reveal. My jaw was on the floor. The sheer power of it, the mud and the leaves caked on its skin, it looked so raw, so primal. But… okay, now that I’m typing this and the adrenaline is fading a little… was the movement on it a little bit… video-gamey? Like, a little too smooth for something that was supposed to be a chaotic force of nature? I don’t know. In the moment, it was the most terrifying, beautiful thing I’d ever seen. But my brain is starting to pick at it now. Was it actually perfect, or was I just so swept up I didn’t notice the flaws? I hate it when my brain does this. Let’s just say it was perfect. It felt perfect. That’s what matters, right?

The sound. Oh my god, the sound. I had my headphones on, the good ones, and it felt like the drums were beating inside my skull. When the chants started, I got goosebumps on my arms, on my legs, everywhere. My cat, Loki, who was sleeping on the other end of the couch, got so freaked out by the low rumbles he just stared at me, wide-eyed, like I was personally responsible for awakening some ancient beast. I probably was. I definitely jumped when that one thing burst out of the trees. No spoilers. You’ll know it when it happens. My headphones almost flew off my head.

This wasn’t a movie. It was a ritual. And I watched it on a Tuesday night in my pyjamas, pausing it to check a text from my mom asking if I was eating properly. The contrast is just… sending me. My whole system is rebooting. I feel wired and exhausted at the same time.

I can’t stop seeing those eyes. The fire in them.

Okay. I’m done. I can’t form coherent thoughts anymore. My brain is just a mess of mud and chants and jungle sounds.

9/10. Just… watch it. But maybe turn off the lights. And don't plan on sleeping right after.

— Ishaan