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Salaar: Part 1 – Ceasefire movie review: Oh, please, cease (fire)!

Updated on: 22 December,2023 10:35 PM IST  |  Mumbai
Mayank Shekhar | mayank.shekhar@mid-day.com

The idea is to project hero Prabhas—for whatever reason, aka Rebel Star—prancing around with as few dialogues to replace the dhai kilo ka haath the camera zooms-in on

Salaar: Part 1 – Ceasefire movie review: Oh, please, cease (fire)!

Salaar review

Movie: Salaar: Part 1 – Ceasefire
Director: Prashanth Neel 
Actors: Prabhas, Prithviraj Sukumaran
Rating: 1/5


No, don’t get me wrong. I do get Mad Max (2015) type of gladiatorial entertainment. Which this is—a ‘gandasa’/machete western, if you like.


Whether set in 2017 or flashing back to the mid-1980s, fire substitutes for electricity, that has yet to be invented, it seems. It’s all semi-dark in sepia tone. Every minute, time freezes in slo-mo to whack the crap outta various men, flying like saucers, landing on their face, as the screen gathers dust.


The sheer relentlessness of the assault on senses, with bass in the BGM tearing into your ear-drums, is explained by men in the audience—like me, up for a 7 am, first day, first show, front row—hopefully getting a boner from bone-crushing violence that is another man’s comical action block.

The idea is to project hero Prabhas—for whatever reason, aka Rebel Star—prancing around with as few dialogues to replace the dhai kilo ka haath the camera zooms-in on.

Why’s he Salaar? Apparently, that was the name of the chief henchman of the Sultan of Persia. Prithviraj somewhat plays that Sultan type figure, if you may.

Around them is the male population on screen that’s more than the number in the theatre—making you wonder how were they born? Of course, there are women too. Mostly public property to the point that they could have a seal embossed on their limbs. Rape, plunder is fair game.

One of the women, rolling her ‘R’s, because she’s returned from the US, is Shruti Haasan’s character. She’s the only one I can identify with—cluelessly looking on, reflecting my own state, gawking at Vardha, Deva, Gurung, Narang, Rudra, Ramanna, falana dhinkana…

They just don’t stop coming at you. There isn’t a moment to pause, so you can even check with someone next to you: “Bhai, what’s going on?” What is this world? It looks like Mandwa from the second Agneepath that had the baldie Sanjay Dutt.

It’s a place called Khansaar, with seemingly full control over India, that’s at some sorta civil war, where jungle laws apply over grizzly bears for warlords, gritting their teeth, growling like maniacs, when they aren’t flaring their nostrils, with eyes popped up like headlights. There are men who have been fed drugs. So, they’ve gone mad. I feel the same.

Of course, this is part of the southern invasion into nationwide theatres, that set off a trend, which will take some time to wear off. Remember the 1980s revenge dramas; only slicker.

Even within that, easy to tell for director Prashanth Neel: KGF > KGF 2 > Salaar. Easier to tell for Prabhas: Radhe Shyam > Saaho > Salaar. Okay, what are we even comparing what against what!

I’m still deciphering: What’s the story, morning glory? The film’s narrator insists, “Some stories cause fear, if you watch or hear. But this one will spread dread, if you simply recount.”

This is when the film hits the interval, for another mad max to follow. I simply switch over to my phone screen. Hoping to hit my head on the wall. For, at least, I’ll feel something then.

Okay, do I remember any other line? Yes. “People build gates not to prevent those inside, from stepping out—but those outside from stepping in!” Such insight.

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