K factor!!

K for KGF. K for Kantara. K for Karavali… and Finally, K for “Kuch Kami Reh Gayi” : My quick take on Kannada movie “Karavali” (Theatrical Release)

After KGF rewrote the rules of scale and Kantara reminded us that folklore can roar louder than CGI, here comes Karavali, hoping to ride the magical “K-factor.”

Did it succeed?

Well… let’s just say, K for “Khup Chhan Prayatna”… err… good attempt!

The Kantara effect is clearly visible. Filmmakers have suddenly rediscovered nature, culture, folklore and rustic landscapes, believing that if you sprinkle enough mythology over lush green forests, you might just recreate the Rishab Shetty magic.

Unfortunately, cinema doesn’t work like a recipe book where you simply add folklore, stir well and expect another masterpiece.

Karavali certainly has all the right ingredients. Set in coastal Karnataka’s Tulunadu, the film is surrounded by breathtaking greenery that can make even “God’s Own Country” feel slightly competitive. The folklore foundation is strong, and the Kambala buffalo race becomes the beating heart of this rustic sports drama, giving a traditional sport the cinematic spotlight it deserves.

The performances are sincere, the characters feel rooted, and the writing occasionally sparkles with moments of brilliance.

Yet, throughout the film, one thought keeps knocking at the door…

K for “Kuch Kami Reh Gayi.”

The makers clearly wanted to mount the film on a grand canvas and, in that ambition, experimented a little too much.

Someone probably said, “Let’s bring in some Nolan flavour!” So we get a non-linear narrative. Unfortunately, unlike Nolan, where every puzzle piece eventually finds its place, here some pieces seem to be searching for the puzzle itself. The experiment creates curiosity, but occasionally disturbs the storytelling rhythm.

The cinematographer perhaps thought, “If we don’t have an IMAX camera, let’s make it an Eye-Max camera.” The audience gets a detailed tour of characters’ eye pupils more than once. 😜

Then came the VFX brainstorming session.

“Let’s add dramatic rays of light…”

“Throw in an eagle…(or was it a hawk?)”

“And why not a mouse?”

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a CGI-created mouse appears on screen, leaving the audience wondering whether it was part of the folklore or had accidentally entered the wrong film set. 😜

The poor eagle and confused mouse probably wondered why they had signed this project.

By the end, these visual experiments create not a gourmet coastal delicacy but…

K for Khichadi.

The music department, however, deserves applause. The music director proudly proves he is a chip from the Basroor block. The background score is impressive, and the songs are terrific, carrying the earthy flavour of the region.

Ironically, the same songs that sound wonderful independently become speed breakers within the narrative. Instead of complementing the story flow, they often slow down the momentum.

In fact, I feel the protagonist’s love track is completely removable. Remove it, and the film loses very little but gains pace and focus. Sometimes, less romance creates more chemistry… with the audience.

Coming to performances, Prajwal Devaraj as a Kambala jockey initially feels like an unusual choice. At times, he looks like a slightly puffed-up Arvind Swami rather than someone who wrestles with the raw energy of buffalo racing. The physicality may raise a question mark, but his sincere and endearing performance gradually wins you over.

The show, however, belongs to Mithra, who delivers a wonderfully grounded performance. Raj B. Shetty, as expected, walks in and reminds everyone why he remains one of Kannada cinema’s most compelling performers. And Ramesh Indra, the antagonist, brings the required menace and intensity, making his presence felt.

Despite its flaws, Karavali deserves appreciation. It is always encouraging to see filmmakers return to our roots, culture and stories rather than serving another factory-made action package.

The sea is majestic, the soil is authentic, the ambition is visible… but somewhere between the waves, the folklore, the VFX and the experiments, the film loses its current.

From KGF to Kantara to Karavali, the “K” factor of Kannada cinema continues to inspire.

This time, though, the alphabet takes a small detour:

K for Karavali.

K for Kambala.

And finally… K for Kuch Kami Reh Gayi.