‘Por’, the latest cinematic venture by Bejoy Nambiar, is not your average film—it’s a bilingual spectacle that flirts with the adrenaline rush of a theme park attraction, plunging the audience into a delirious ride that’s as dazzling as it is dizzying. Much like the after-effects of a rollercoaster, ‘Por’—also known as ‘Dange’ in Hindi—leaves its viewers in a lingering state of disorientation, long after the thrilling highs and tumultuous lows of its narrative journey.
The film introduces us to Yuva, expertly portrayed by Kalidas Jayaram, a college newcomer burdened by a horrific childhood memory involving his senior, Prabhu, a role undertaken by the charismatic Arjun Das. But a simple vendetta does not suffice for ‘Por’. To escalate a mere scuffle into a full-blown war, as its title suggests, Nambiar weaves an elaborate tapestry of characters into the fray, each imbued with their own tangled web of motivations, conflicts, histories, and desires. The narrative’s spotlight shines not only on Yuva and Prabhu but also on fellow student Rishika, brought to life by Sanchana Natarajan, and the tenacious activist Gayathri, portrayed by TJ Bhanu, alongside a cast of intricate secondary and tertiary figures.
The setting of ‘Por’ could easily be mistaken for a lawless, post-apocalyptic wasteland; a place where the rules are rendered obsolete, and the authorities—be they college administration or police—hold no sway. Here, forbidden substances flow with greater ease than the mundane cups of ginger tea that Prabhu holds in high regard. As viewers, we are thrust into a reality where studying is a fleeting glimpse, vastly overshadowed by the students’ penchant for all-terrain vehicles, running shacks, experimenting with drugs, and engaging in trivial turf disputes.
Nambiar boldy primes us for an inevitable climax from the onset, subtly thickening the plot with ancillary storylines that are not centric to our leading duo. We witness a student ensnared by the merciless grip of caste, power, and politics, with Gayathri at their side—all of which hurtles towards a converging, climactic apex.
Amidst its narrative miscues, the film’s technical muscle flexes with an impressive command. The vivid cinematography, punctuated by audacious drone shots, imaginative editing techniques, and a potent score, plays to the film’s strengths. A particularly standout sequence mimics the inventive continuity of a single-take action set piece akin to the film ‘Extraction’, despite occasionally blurred imagery that leaves one questioning intent.
The protagonists deliver commendable performances; nevertheless, the extended cast leaves much to be desired with portrayals that range from marginally impactful to woefully one-dimensional.
‘Por’ also tenderly nods to the works of Nambiar’s mentor, Mani Ratnam, notably through the protagonist’s name, which mirrors the title of Ratnam’s own cinematic foray into the political tumult of college life. However, unlike Ratnam’s multifaceted exploration, ‘Por’ confines itself within the walls of its college setting, limiting the magnitude of its conflict.
Yet, despite its structural imperfections and scatterplot subplots—some extraneous, others undercooked—’Por’ evades facile classification as a mere exhibition of style bereft of substance. The film captivates with its audacious visual flair, capable performances, and sprinklings of intriguing concepts.
In the end, ‘Por’ serves up a drama that is as vibrant as it is predictable, a film that dances on the fringes of chaos, straining at times beneath the weight of its own ambition. Indeed, the chaos may very well be intentional, an artistic choice perfectly encapsulated by the film’s title.
As it stands, ‘Por’ continues its theatrical run, inviting viewers to lose themselves in its symphony of sights and sounds—a journey that is as much a sensory overload as it is an exploration of collegiate warfare. Engage with ‘Por’ on the big screen and allow yourself to be whisked away into Bejoy Nambiar’s visually entrancing battle of wits and wills.
