Chhaava Movie Review : Vicky Kaushal ferociously roars, races and goes on a rampage in Chhaava

Story: The death of the mighty Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj, who founded and led the Maratha empire to its undefeated glory relieved the Mughals. Little did they know they would now be entering the tiger’s den by facing Shivaji’s valiant son Chhatrapati Sambhaji Maharaj, if they wished to expand their empire in the deccan.

Review: Based on Shivaji Sawant's Marathi novel, Chhaava (lion's cub) aims to acknowledge the bravery of Shambhu Raje (Sambhaji Maharaj played by Vicky Kaushal), that most history books haven’t been able to. There’s more to him than being Shivaji’s son who was betrayed by his own men, captured and brutally executed by Aurangzeb (played by Akshaye Khanna). The film sheds light on why he was widely revered by his people and feared by rivals in the nine years that he held the Maratha throne.

Still reeling from the loss of his father, Sambhaji and Sersenapati Hambirrao Mohite (essayed by Ashutosh Rana) invaded Mughal stronghold Burhanpur right under their nose. For the nine years that followed, Sambhaji trampled on Mughals’ expansion plans making him a thorn in their side. Sambhaji’s bravery overcame the betrayal he faced by his own people until he was ambushed and captured in Sangameshwar. Even his brutal execution couldn’t kill his warrior spirit and fight for Swaraj.

Director Laxman Utekar builds his historical on a massive canvas, giving the film the larger than life appeal it deserves. The film starts off with promise and a grand slowmo entry but the first half lacks an engaging story beyond the obvious reverence. It feels like a collage of action sequences and songs without investing much in character development or world building. You miss that tension or sense of discovery around the events that unfold. AR Rahman’s songs and background score drive the narrative, overriding the story and dialogues. The legendary music composer’s 'Aaya re toofan' (war cry) is a winner with its classic Maharashtrian Nashik Dhol Tasha but rest of the tracks don’t complement the film’s setting or theme. Romantic number ‘Jaane Tu’ is beautiful as a standalone song but throws you off guard when placed in the movie as it sounds way too contemporary for the era. Piano doesn't go with the paithani. You constantly wonder if Ajay Atul would have been a better fit for a story like this.

The film’s soul lies in the second half, and it is here that Chhaava truly comes alive. The story picks up the pace, gets the emotions right and keeps you on the edge throughout the thrilling climax that sees Sambhaji single handedly fighting the Mughals. “Kuttay ke pillon kay aanese, sher ka baccha nahi bhaag jata” The writing ups the drama. The fight scenes are well choreographed and executed. The last part of the movie has been splendidly shot and deserves a theatrical viewing.

Last but not least, the film belongs to Vicky Kaushal and it’s fair to say he has given his blood, sweat and tears to this titular part. He channels his inner rage, allows his rudra avatar to take over and roars like a tiger in every scene, commanding your undivided attention. This is one of his finest performances till date and no one could have done it better than him. Akshaye Khanna and his one-liners are effective. He is refreshingly understated, even as his makeup and extensive prosthetic work go over the top. Actor Vineet Kumar Singh is a great casting choice to play Kavi Kalash. His conversation with Vicky gives the film some of its best scenes.

The women don't get as much screen space. The immensely talented Divya Dutta as Maharani Soyarabai has a powerful presence and deserved a meatier role. Rashmika Mandanna looks the part but struggles to get her language, accent and emotions right. Diana Penty turns out to be the biggest disappointment. She barely gets to speak but when she does, her stone-faced performance distracts you from the most intense scenes.

Chhaava’s redeeming factor is its terrific climax. Vicky Kaushal is breathtaking as he exudes Sambhaji Maharaj’s valour and passion for swarajya (self-rule) like it were his second skin. You just wish the film relied and trusted its story more than Rahman's music, which largely feels out of place.