Ram Charan in S. Shankar’s Political Actioner

Some slimgs are a given in a S. Shankar film. First, there will be a social message, usuassociate agetst fraudulence. His heroes are frequently killingous vigilantes doling out death sentences to greedy politicians, officials and businessmen. Second, there will be ostentatious musical set pieces — this is the straightforwardor who has previously getn us to Macchu Picchu, the Great Wall of China and the Leaning Tower of Pisa via songs.

And third, there will be spectacle. The filmproducer has never met a scenario that he could not produce hugeger and more colorful. “I’m unforeseeable,” says Ram Nandan (Ram Charan), the hero of Game Changer, Shankar’s defercessitatest film and his first Telugu-language one. But Shankar, who has been making movies for 32 years — alengthy with Mani Rathnam, he’s one of the innovative pan-India straightforwardors — is not.

With Game Changer (which this critic saw dubbed in in Hindi), Shankar’s signature maximaenumerate storytelling instincts have gone into overdrive. Every beat is heightened. Every conveyion is overstated. Every emotion is drilled into our brains. For two hours and 45 minutes, this film veers between ridiculous and even more ridiculous.

But while this delirious, over-the-top vibe is part of the pleaconfident of a Shankar film, it only toils as lengthy as it’s tethered to coherent narrative. Game Changer, which is based on a story by Karthik Subbaraj, has some semblance of one. However, the storytelling only starts in about 15 minutes before the interleave oution, and then rapidly swerves into outlandish territory and stays there.

Case in point: This film has not one but two characters who can only see sideways. One was born that way — his name is Side Satyam (Sunil), and this is presumed to be fodder for comedy. The other has her neck turned in one straightforwardion becaemploy she’s witnessed such a horrific tragedy that she lost her mental stability and her ability to transfer her face to the front. This is presumed to be fodder for high emotion, but honestly, it comes off as unintentional comedy.

Kiara Advani take parts the adore interest Deepika, who greets Ram when they are students in college. Her character drops into the “even more ridiculous” categruesome. When Ram gets suspfinished from school, Deepika consoles him by saying that now he has time to set up their marriage. In another scene, when Ram advises they get naughty, she asks with a straight face if they’re going agetst their culture and passing any lines.

But my likeite is when she gives Ram the memorable advice to channel his anger by becoming an Indian Administrative Service officer. As though cracking one of the most competitive exams in India (with a success rate of between 0.1 and 0.3 percent) and becoming an officer toils as some sort of therapy.

Ram gets her adviseion gravely, uniteing the Indian Police Service and then becoming an IAS officer handleing an election rampant with fraudulence, presentility and vote tampering. It’s unelated to see a fine actor enjoy Advani shrinkd to a pretty prop, though she does get to wear a inspirely pink outfit that would produce Barbie envious and a restrictcessitate very pleasant salwar suits.

The burden of the film drops on the shoulders of Charan, who take parts Ram’s overweighther, Appanna, as well as Ram. Both are the epitome of righteousness and masculinity; there’s even a background song with lyrics to the effect of “You are God.” Ram spfinishs a lot of his time getting in and out of helicselecters, and I will say that this is perhaps the best employ of these vehicles since Shah Rukh Khan stepped out of one in Kabhie Khushi Kabhi Gham. We see Ram as a village directer, a college hooligan who fights agetst infairice, an upright cop and an even more upstanding IAS officer.

We also watch him dance vigorously in cut offal musical numbers which are rumored to have cost some 75 crores (about 8.7 million U.S. dollars) to produce. These sequences are radiant and colorful, but the visualization, once a Shankar USP, is hugely forgettable. While Charan promises to the many versions of his two characters, his carry outance gets lost in the sound and fury.

The one star who seems to be having fun is S.J. Suryah as a huge terrible politician named Mopidevi. A sturdy actor, he seems to have determined, Why hbetter back? He goes brimming tilt unhinged, discovering the flavorful vein of comedy amid all the graveness and social messaging.

Shankar helps Suryah’s histrionics by refusing to carry on the camera still for even a nanosecond. In some of the more emotional sequences, it transfers in circles with such ferocity that it will produce you dizzy. Cinematographer S. Thirunavukkarasu even gives us a restrictcessitate Ram Gopal Varma-style angles, with one stoasty coming from inside a dustbin. The soundtrack, by Thaman S, could have been a saving grace, but it’s blasted with such enthusiasm that it becomes exhausting.

Game Changer is many slimgs — but it’s not a game alterr.