C/o Kancharapalem Movie Review: Love is God

Spoilers ahead…
Sometimes, a film sets out to achieve its purpose by not trying too much. The latest Telugu film C/o Kancharapalem, written and directed by Maha, is a remarkable achievement in every sense.
The first half of C/o Kancharapalem, in particular, is an irresistibly lively slice-of-life drama that comes back to haunt its viewers in the latter half. Barring the obvious that it’s set in the picturesque of Kancharapalem, it doesn’t share any similarities with its characters. In the sense that the stories take an episodic narrative and are separated by different milieu. Or we assume so.
At first, we’re introduced to a 49-year-old virgin Raju, whose only concern is to somehow find a suitable bride to enter wedlock. Raju senses an opportunity when his senior officer Radha develops a liking for him, despite knowing that he’s just an attendant. On the other hand, a high school romance brews between Sundaram and Sunitha over the song Bhale Bhale Magadivoy from Maro Charitra (remade in Hindi as Ek Duje Ke Liye). Maha doesn’t take too much time in setting up the characters and quickly cuts to the story of Gaddam, who works at a wine shop and falls for a girl who’s a regular customer. When Joseph, the last among the lot, is employed by a local leader to handle some petty stuff, he meets Bhargavi, who would later transform him altogether.
The parallel narration, coupled with a low-key setup, promises yet another romantic drama. But here’s where C/o Kancharapalem differs. Midway into the film, you realise it’s not just a love story, but it’s the story of being in love. The director allows you to live the moment, feel their pain and share an emotional connect. For example, when Raju learns that his officer Radha has diabetes, he carries a bottle of sugar water when they go out together for the first time. This is just casually slipped in as an information rather than a revelation. In a cute scene, the director cuts to a close-up of an adorable Sunitha, when she reacts to Sundaram’s conversation with his friend. (Side note: I’m willing to pay good money for a spin-off of Sunitha-Sundaram’s story). With such beautiful scenes, the building up of the plot is akin to the human pyramid formation during the Dahi Handi festival. The pyramid, however, crumbles — just like its characters in the second half.
At the same time, its refreshingly simple tone works, possibly because the film’s about real people. For instance, Raju’s colleague is reluctant to accept his inclusion into the team during lunch. Gaddam doesn’t care that his lover Saleema is a prostitute. But Saleema is worried that this might crop up later. Sundaram doesn’t confront Sunitha’s father, when he shames her in public, because he’s too…afraid.
C/o Kancharapalem, on the other hand, is filled with the Easter Egg (hate to use this word) symbolism. Take Joseph for instance. We see him praying at a church when he’s introduced. He loses faith in God when his religion comes in between his love story. Raju is constantly humiliated by his neighbours, who come to his rescue in a scene that received deafening response from the audience. Sundaram develops a habit of talking to a portrait of Ganesh. And it’s the blind-faith that’d cost him very badly later. The religious and casteist overtones that come throughout the film has enough scope to make C/0 Kancharapalem a rabble-rousing, message-driven film. But there’s no room for such melodrama.
The big climax reveal, which perhaps was consciously written to surprise the audience, doesn’t seem forced at all, thanks to its organic screenplay that doesn’t dampen the overall mood. Even in terms of logic, the climax reveal makes absolute sense, especially when you hark back to something in the past. This, for me, is perhaps the best piece of writing in the recent past.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=98&v=CM0r9sFQvN0
