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Walter Veerayya Should  Go To The Oscars

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Walter Veerayya 

Waltar Veerayya(Telugu ,Netflix)

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In Walter Veerayya Chiranjeevi, age 67,  acts  as though he is Chiranjeevi’s  son  Ramcharan.  He  performs very strange dance movements  with  chorus dancers  who  look a quarter his and are only too happy to share screen space with a  legend  who defies all norms  of  sexagenarian  conduct.

One  may argue that Harrison Ford is  doing the latest Indian Jones film at the age of 80.But really, there is no need  for such comparisons.Chiranjeevi is  a much bigger  star Harrison Ford. Hollywood can’t ford…sorry, afford him.

In fanboy director  Bobby Simha’s  Waltar(sic.)  Veerayya, Chiranjeevi plays  a fisherman and smuggler . Everyone seems  to be startled at  the mention of his name. Whether it is out of amusement or admiration, no clue.This is  the  kind of rudderless  cinema that seems to be going nowhere at a breakneck speed.

Every  frame  is  splashed with gaudy colours. And the song sound like  bereft banshees. The assault on the spectators’  senses underlines  a deeper malaise in the content. The screenplay  is  a pretext to  highlight  Chiranjeevi’s retro-stardom. The choreography is meant to  accentuate the youthful element  in   the  hero.

To his  credit Chiranjeevi tries hard to make his fun-outing   enjoyable for  the audience.  But the effort is  just as inadequate  as Chiranjeevi’s last Godfather , know  as Oddfather in some daredevilish circle.   Woefully, in Waltar Veerayya  the writers  and director seem to have  little idea  of how to  be  fanboys  without fuelling the  spirit of fatuousness that  runs across   the lengthy storytelling.

It  bites you in your posterior. And it leaves the hero-worship   sentiment  pretty much un- attended.Waltar Veerayya gets worse  with every shot. After a sloppy stint in Dubai, which  includes a ritual slaying of a villain  (and involves an elephant and  FXs, the  former far less clumsy than the latter)   and  Shruti Hassan  who shows  up all bruised and battered(probably bumped in the hero’s ego) we have a lengthy  flashback where Chiranjeevi dances some more when ‘Mass Maharaja’ Ravi Teja shows up in the mess.

Yes, Teja is also a cast member in this fractured  1970s’  kitsch cyclone which is  so  wild it  needs  to be honoured for daring to be  so  out control .Send it to the  Oscars, I say. After Naatu naatu  with son Ramcharan  the choreography   of Waltar Veerayya with dad Chiranjeevi  would convince the Americans. We  excel  in   dance movements that  must not be tried at  home.

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