Sarangapani Jathakam movie review: A laugh-a-minute riot where nothing is too sacred for chuckles
Sarangapani Jathakam(3.5 / 5)
Such has been filmmakers’ obsession with big-budget spectacles in recent times that the arrival of Sarangapani Jathakam, a film with no lavish production values or wide-angle shots that rides entirely on its script and actors, feels like a refreshing change. Sometimes, a fad becomes so monotonous that the regular seems like a breath of fresh air, just by the virtue of not following the trend. Sarangapani Jathakam, albeit a mainstream film in its purest sense, is a rather bold venture when seen from a broader perspective—it’s a rare film that sticks to its old-school rules of comedy, consistently prioritises wit over visual dazzle, and accomplishes its goals.
Director: Mohana Krishna Indraganti
Cast: Priyadarshi, Vennela Kishore, Harsha Chemudu, Roopa Kodavayur
Mohan Krishna Indraganti shows a sense of courage on the scripting level in other ways too. There are two long stretches in the first half where the resolution is consciously etched out in a visually similar form. In the hands of a less-experienced filmmaker, it could have come off as repetitive. But Mohana Krishna understands how to capture the ‘callback’ element of a repeated visual and comes up trumps. Similarly, a huge chunk of the second half unravels on a hotel terrace. If there was a more calculative team behind this script, many concerns would have arisen about the film getting visually stagnant. But the writer-director knows how to keep the momentum going, despite a confined backdrop. Fortunately, he has a great coterie of actors at his disposal, all of whom bring their best foot forward, taking the witty writing to another level of hilarity. Vennela Kishore and Priyadarshi make a great team, playing off each other with disarming charm. Once Harsha Chemudu, playing the underachieving friend Ramki, enters the chaotic picture, Sarangapani Jathakam hits its comedic peak. The dialogues are pacey and consistently accomplished in their wit.
While the humour is largely dialogue-driven, especially in the latter portions, things also remain interesting because of the subplots.
We may be largely following Saranga’s crazy journey of committing the perfectly ethical murder, but secondary elements—like the evolving dynamics between Saranga and Maithili (Roopa Kodavayur)’s parents—are eccentric enough to land on their own. Even Ramki’s interactions with the hotel receptionist or a fellow waiter have a quirky edge, ensuring that every bit of repartee that takes place in this universe keeps us amused, one way or another.
Early on in the film, Maithili describes herself as the logical, practical one in the relationship. Knowing what we know of Saranga’s disproportionate belief in astrology, we wonder if the narrative will play on the contrasting characteristics of the lead pair as part of its central conflict. But our expectations are subverted yet again as the focus remains on Saranga’s obsessive pursuit of his wish-fulfilling prophecy. The writer-director strikes a good balance of situational humour and punchline humour, deftly capturing the chaos as Saranga finds himself in a bomb-diffusing situation (figuratively speaking) over and over.
All this while, the stakes remain low. Sarangapani Jathakam, despite its fertile concept where a staunch believer drives himself to do irrationally wacky deeds, makes little to no attempt to offer any overt commentary about religion, astrology, or anything else. (In one of the few missteps, the story finds a villain figure in one specific character, instead of pointing fingers at the larger system). However, laughter remains the priority, and Mohana Krishna Indraganti achieves it in plenty.
If the decidedly low stakes don’t bother us, it’s because Sarangapani Jathakam understands the essence of humour—offering us a narrative where nothing is too sacred for humour. There is a casteist old woman throwing jibes at an exasperated Chandra (Vennela Kishore), but it never comes off as offensive. Be it the non-reliability of Aadhaar card, the recent craze for ‘Alpha Male’ figures, or Tollywood’s obsession with a Sankranthi release date, everything and everyone is up for laughs. The best humour comes out of situations where you are as aghast at a character for their objectionable actions as yourself for finding them funny. During one outrageous sequence in the first half, which unfolds at a funeral (set to an amazing grunge rock background score by Vivek Sagar), Saranga crosses all levels of decency and etiquette, fighting with a kid over a piece of chocolate. It’s almost blasphemous to see the protagonist jump over a dead body, but it’s in moments like this where the biggest accomplishments of Sarangapani Jathakam stand—this is a rare Telugu comedy that recognises that under the most tense of moments lies the potential for the biggest of laughs, that laughter and blasphemy often go hand in hand.