This one is for S. S. Rajamouli, for directing Bahubali – The Beginning, a movie that made me sit up and take notice. I’d have loved it more if moss had been growing upon the sides of the walls, and if there were a few stones missing here and there – but they wanted to show Mahishmati in good repair, so be it.
So here’s Prabhas as Bahubali, asking the question that India has been asking for two long years. “Why did Kattappa kill Bahubali?”
What I love about Bahubali is that it’s a fair attempt at telling a fantastical story. Honestly, I wouldn’t have seen it. Nobody could’ve convinced me to go to the theater and pay for a South Indian movie dubbed in Hindi. I’d rather watch a South Indian movie in Tamil or Telugu, miss half its finer points and read the English sub-titles. I watched the dubbed version of it only because it was on TV. I’m glad I did because I fell for the illogical beauty of the movie as well as the drop-dead flared-nostril gorgeous looks of its tall, broad, and rather humongous protagonist, Bahubali. (Note: His nostrils and his height reminded me of a Telugu guy who had proposed to me in my first year of college – but I assure you that this fact had nothing to do with my mad desire to caricature Prabhas b.k.a Bahubali.)
b.k.a. = Best known As.
So what caught my attention?
First, the songs.
The lead-the-hero-on-his-quest song brilliantly shot. The end-of-virginity-song (Our movies often have a song at the end of which our virgin hero and equally if not more virgin heroine lose their virginity) was beautifully composed. Honestly, Bollywood’s pelvis-pounding, booty-bouncing, bosom-heaving efforts look crass when compared to the sensuality of these songs. The tattoo-story that spills into the end-of-virginity-song is one of those many details that make the viewers catch their breath.
Then the sequences.
We first learn of Bahubali Junior’s prowess in the scene where he plucks the gargantuan shivalinga (made of black igneous rock of some kind) and carries it on his shoulder, like it was made of origami. Then there was the scene when Bahubali Junior “alone” stops the king’s statue from falling – note that hundreds of men couldn’t achieve what he did, and quite effortlessly too. In fact, his other hand was free to help a worker to his feet. And then there was Sivagami, the omnipotent matriarch, who for some inexplicable reason was feared by everyone, including her hubby dearest. Her husband, the single-handed king, single-handedly managed to mess up the whole show for Bahubali Senior – the prince she favored over her own son (for no other reason except that as an infant, in a surreal display of power, he had held her thumb in his innocent vice-like grip.) Interesting, because what I’ve seen of mothers is that they’d love a baboon born of their own body more than they’d love another woman’s super awesome genius child.
Finally, Katappa (or Kattappa or Kattapa)
The man who threw the parting shot was Katappa. The man who in the last scene of the movie, confessed to killing Bahubali. He could’ve confessed a little earlier, or waited until the next movie was released. But he chooses to spill the beans right at the moment before the credits begin to roll on the screen. Honestly, I don’t understand the guy at all. I don’t think Bahubali understood him either. Which Bahubali? Well, both, I guess. The guy Katappa appears to be a rather dependable character – one who sides with Queen Sivagami all the time – and he confesses to killing Bahubali. Speaking of cliffhangers – I guess this was even bigger than Bahubali’s own cliffhanging attempt in the movie (recall when Ballaldeva was all prepared to bring the movie to an end by letting Bahubali die, but the director had intervened and saved the movie?)
Bahubali 2 – The Conclusion, is releasing on April 28th. I’m waiting for the release the same as millions of other Indians. We all want to know why Katappa killed Bahubali. Don’t we?