RRR is a grandiosely scoped revolutionary epic tribute to Indian revolutionaries Alluri Sitarama Raju (Ram Charan) and Komaram Bheem (N.T. Rama Rao Jr.). Reimagining the pair living through the 1920 British Raj, RRR finds Bheem’s younger sister Malli (Twinkle Sharma) kidnapped from the Gond tribe’s forest home in Adilabad by the bloodless Governor Scott Buxton (Ray Stevenson) and his wife, Catherine (Alison Doody). Venturing to rescue her, Bheem disguises himself as a Muslim mechanic named Akhtar. Meanwhile, disguised as a borderline psychotic, ambitious Indian Imperial Police officer, Raju is sent to hunt for Bheem after Catherine gets wind of such rescue plans—even though Raju’s true purpose is to arm all of India in revolt against England. After a brief kerfuffle leading to a fisherboy getting surrounded by fire under a bridge, the pair rescue the kid and become friends. With real bonds yet fake disguises, the pair must learn about each other’s true purposes to save their loved ones—and India’s diverse autonomy.

No words can describe how groundbreaking RRR can be in its extended runtime. Though your bladder’s pushed, director S. S. Rajamouli takes time to lay the groundwork for a woe-filled rescue tale (and test) of complex relationships, identities, racism, and societal boundaries. Rajamouli engages with these subtexts by focusing on traditional Bollywood tactics: larger-than-life explosions, almost zany but self-aware writing, symbolically scored interludes, and legend/myth retellings that eventually get applied to the screen. A good example rolls almost immediately when violent riots occur around a prison. While white soldiers and policemen cower from the oncoming hordes of angered souls, Raju holds the line until someone throws a rock at and breaks a framed photo inside. He rushes out, beating back anyone and everyone in his way to arrest the assailant, dragging him back like a skinned deer—all in hopes of a promotion he doesn’t even get.

Watching him throw people around in the air with superhuman strength is fun! They’re flung in the air and into each other like dodgeballs, no sweat. Movie magic is great for that. And such over-the-topness softens the stresses of the scene’s actual intentions. Raju’s violent oppression towards the public foreshadows how the British Empire, with or without Raju’s (disguised) assistance, treats India as low-class, exploitable carcasses to gain power and wealth for the rest of the film. It also subtly foreshadows Raju’s personal ordeal: how far is too far in the name of justice for his and all people? Is violence against some in hope of sanctity for all justifiable? These questions get tossed around further and further, mainly as Raju and Bheem’s relationship develops for better or worse, and true intentions become false before becoming valid again. This interweaving of personal and more significant stakes, attentive scoring, and intentionally distracting action/dialogue elevate the film beyond what would otherwise be silly scripting and shoddy performances.

Thus, RRR is a solid exploration of the revolutionary mindset and necessity. Although it may occasionally fall flat, thanks to its charming star power, unwavering stylistic control, and relentlessly positive outlook toward a freed future, RRR is an impactfully fabulous film.

Screens Thursday, 11/19, 6:00 pm @ The Brattle Theatre
Screening subtitled with its original Telugu language track, with a brief intermission.
Part of the ongoing repertory series: Unsilent Nights