Entertainment

The animation genre in India is still a work in progress, and the success of Mahavatar Narsimha has come as a ray of hope for the genre. Directed by Ashwin Kumar and produced by Kleem Productions, the movie has reportedly grossed over ₹100 crore, becoming the most successful Indian animated movie. Presented and distributed by the Bengaluru-based Hombale Films, the banner behind KGF and Kantara, the film is the first instalment of a seven-part animated series.

Revolving around the classic myth of Prahalad and Hiranyakashipu, the movie has surprised trade experts and industry members with its popularity among the mainstream audience. Hindol Hazra, creator at Chalchitra Talks, calls Mahavatar Narsimha a “film accessible to all” and draws parallels with Hanuman (2005), the breakthrough film in the Indian animation context.

“Hanuman was released 20 years ago, and it’s still fondly remembered by people of my generation,” notes Hindol. “Superstar Chiranjeevi had dubbed for the Hanuman character for the Telugu version. In 2012, there was a film called Arjun: The Warrior Prince, which didn’t get the attention it deserved. That’s not the case for Mahavatar Narsimha, as it has managed to create an audience for itself. The film is a perfect balance of larger-than-life action sequences and sincere storytelling.”

Children have been the biggest consumers of Mahavatar Narsimha. The idea from makers to treat the final 30 minutes of the movie, where lord Narsimha takes on Hiranyakashipu, like an action spectacle from a superhero movie, has paid dividends. The action is jaw-droppingly good, drawing the crowd to root for Narsimha, the fourth avatar of Vishnu.

The action in the movie is jaw-droppingly good, drawing the crowd to root for Narsimha, the fourth avatar of Vishnu.

“That kind of treatment is necessary,” points out Hindol. “There is no rule that a story rooted in mythology shouldn’t be treated with modern sensibility. Children today grow up watching the best of Marvel and DC movies. So, if you want to cater to the current generation, you must make a stylish film without diluting the essence of the original story.”

Despite its success, Mahavatar Narsimha is not a perfect film. The animation feels disproportionate. It is as if the best was kept for the last, with the rest of the film being inconsistent on the technical front. “By no means is this the best animation in the world,” Ashwin had told The Hindu before the release. “It’s a step towards that for India, and we have to make it better.”

Rahul V Gopalakrishna, VFX supervisor for 777 Charlie and part of the VFX team of the upcoming Kantara A Legend: Chapter 1, says it was a smart call by the makers to put their best efforts on important sequences.

“To achieve a full film with the quality of what we see in the final hour will require more time and money. The budget might increase by a few crores. In India, it’s tough to get an investment of ₹8-10 crore for an animation movie,” he explains.

Hindol says, “Having worked in the film industry for some time, I know the constraints of an independent production. This film was also made initially in an independent manner, with Hombale Films coming on-board only at the end as a presenter. However, I hope that the success of the film enables the makers to improve the film’s animation quality in the upcoming parts,” he adds.

ALSO READ: Rana Daggubati interview: On ‘Solo Leveling’ and the untapped multilingual treasure trove of anime

Mahavatar Narsimha overcomes its technical issues with its strong emotional resonance with the audience. “As a Kannadiga, this story is special to me because I have watched Dr Rajkumar’s cult-classic Bhakta Prahlada (1983). Indians can relate to the tale, as opposed to Kochadaiiyaan, whose protagonist wasn’t familiar to those outside of Tamil Nadu,” reasons Rahul. “Kochadaiiyaan, which adopted the motion capture technique, is a far superior work on the technical front compared with Mahavatar Narsimha, but the story of the eighth-century warrior was new to people, making the experience less immersive.”

The climax of Mahavatar Narsimha is an emotionally-charged experience, balanced with the world-class action,” says Harish Mallya, consultant curator, Bengaluru International Film Festival. “The background score is resounding. They have cleverly upped the ante when the film nears the end, making you yearn for the big moments. The final impact is no less than the climactic finish of Baahubali or KGF,” says Mallya.

A still from ‘Mahavatar Narsimha’.
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

He feels Narsimha is a great indigenous character for the Indian audience. “In Hollywood, you have Shrek, who is a popular figure in animation. The Cars franchise is known for its unique world-building. Similarly, the story of Narsimha resonates with all generations, making the possibility of a franchise exciting.”

ALSO READ: The gospel of ‘Vinland Saga’ and its life-changing meditations on pacifism

Mallya feels it is time the Indian film industry tapped into the world of animation. Till date, the classic Ramayana: The Legend of Prince Rama remains the best retelling of an Indian tale in the animation world. “India produces the most movies annually in the world. Yet, the number of animated films is less. Oscars has a Best Animation Feature category and a Best Short Film Feature section. There are reputed film festivals for animated movies.”

Hindol echoes Mallya’s thoughts. “Every year, the highest-grossing movies in Hollywood are from Pixar or Disney. Animation movies have a universal audience. Children persuade their parents to watch the films, ensuring three or four tickets per family. In the Indian television space, Chhota Bheem is a homegrown hero. With Mahavatar Narsimha, we seem to have had our first homegrown animation series.”

Published – August 07, 2025 01:24 pm IST

Cuban influencer Sandro Castro has chosen a very different path from his revolutionary grandfather Fidel, using his name to pursue online fame while occasionally poking fun at the island’s dire shortages of food, medicine, power and fuel.

It is a pastime some find entertaining, even fair commentary, but the 33-year-old is coming under increasing scrutiny from those loyal to Cuba’s communist project for disrespecting his ancestor’s legacy.

For others locked in a daily struggle for survival, the younger Castro’s high-flying lifestyle and apparent lack of empathy is offensive on a whole different level.

On his Instagram account, Sandro regales his 127,000 followers with images of him partying, at times with scantily-clad women, often with a beer in hand.

He is sometimes dressed as a monk or a vampire, sporting cat whiskers or the jersey of the Barcelona football club.

From time to time, he mocks the struggles engendered by the country’s worst economic crisis in three decades.

“I woke up today with my favorite recipe, chicken with beer… but there is no chicken,’ he says in one post while holding up a bottle of the national lager, Cristal.

He also jokes about the power outages that have plagued the island, suggestively addressing a woman with the words: “If I caught you like the UNE (electric company), I’d get you every four hours, Monday to Monday.”

The character entertains some, annoys others, but never fails to make a splash.

Mr. Castro’s followers jokingly refer to him as the “next President,” but voices aligned with the communist government are demanding he be silenced.

Loyalist historian and author Ernesto Limia complained on Facebook that Mr. Castro “does not respect the memory” of his famous grandfather, who led the revolution that toppled a dictatorship and installed a communist government.

“El Necio,” an online influencer, has argued that Sandro Castro “goes against the security of this country” and “against the ideals” of the revolution.

Despite his famous name, some believe Castro may be pushing his luck.

Activists and critics in Cuba are often rounded up for sharing anti-government views, and several are serving sentences for crimes such as “contempt” or disseminating “enemy propaganda.”

‘Little toys’

Manuel Cuesta Morua, a dissident historian who has been detained multiple times for his democratic activism, said the Sandro phenomenon embodied “the distance of the grandchildren’s generation from the original revolutionary project.”

It also put Mr. Castro in stark contrast to the rest of his family, who unlike him enjoy their privileged status “discreetly,” he said.

While Fidel Castro was alive, Cubans knew very little about his second wife, Dalia Soto del Valle and their five sons — one of whom is Sandro’s father, Alexis Castro Soto del Valle, 63.

The family lived out of the public eye in Punto Cero, an extensive wooded area west of Havana with access controlled by the military.

In 2021, during the COVID-19 pandemic, Sandro came into the spotlight in a leaked video that showed him driving a luxurious Mercedes-Benz.

“We are simple people, but every now and then we have to take out these little toys we have at home,” he said in the clip that went viral and sparked public outrage, forcing him to apologize.

Three years later, he caused another stir by celebrating his birthday at a bar he owns in the capital, burning massive neon lights and dancing on tables as the country reeled from the after-effects of a massive blackout.

Published – August 07, 2025 01:22 pm IST

A still from ‘Inspector Zende’
| Photo Credit: Special Arrangement

Semmangudi Srinivasa Iyer strode Carnatic music world like a colossus and today, he is rightly hailed as the Sangeetha Pithamaha. He continues to inspire many young musicians. His worthy and well-known disciple T.M. Krishna recently performed a concert as part of the Sangitha Kalanidhi Semmangudi Srinivasa Iyer Birth Anniversary Series, organised by Naada Inbam.

Acceding to a request by his co-artiste K. Arun Prakash, at the start of the concert, Krishna shared memories of Semmangudi. He said “For many, it is the keerthanas such as ‘Maaru balka’, ‘Meru samaana’, ‘Chaala kalla’, and ‘Sapasyat kausalya’, viruttams, Shloka such as ‘Shringaram kshitinandini’, and especially his second speed (rendaam kaalam) kalpanaswaras that are deeply etched in the mind. But I wish to highlight something slightly different — what is not often spoken about is the mind behind the musician. Semmangudi’s music was so full of life that we forget how much thought and intention has gone into crafting that music. Performance was just one part — the deeper layer was the thought, which we experienced often only in the classroom.”

Talking about what a great analyser of music Semmangudi was, Krishna said, “He thought deeply about ragas, about the appropriateness of his every rendering, and this is evident even in the few interviews available online. Time and again, he returned to one idea ‘Raga Sangeetham’. For him, raga was the life and breath of Carnatic music. When we think of Carnatic music in the 20th century, there is an aural landscape within which we imagine it. The person who epitomised that landscape was Semmangudi Srinivasa Iyer. There was never a moment in his music where listeners were doubtful whether he was within that landscape. Regardless of the raga he sang, the moment he began singing, Carnatic music resounded. That power came from the sheer depth of thought behind every musical choice.”

In pursuit of musical integrity

Semmangudi Srinivasa Iyer performing at Perambur Sangeetha Sabha.
| Photo Credit:
The Hindu Archives

Krishna reflected on the commonly used term, “thinking musician,” and how it is often used quite frivolously. “All musicians think — it is essential. But what Semmangudi brought was something more: the ethics of musical thought. This was not about his ego or showcasing skill — it was about what served the music best. That objectivity, that selfless pursuit of musical integrity, was invaluable. Even at the very end of his life, Semmangudi was in search of something new in music.”

Among many memories, one particularly stayed with Krishna. He recalled, “When Semmangudi mama was ill and admitted to hospital, my wife Sangeetha and I went to see him. When he saw us, he softly said, ‘Bhayama irukku’ (I am afraid). The natural assumption was that he feared passing away. So, we instinctively replied, ‘Mama, kavala padatheengo. Onnum aagathu’ (Don’t worry. Nothing will happen). But mama said, ‘Athillai. Sangeetham maranthu poyidumnu bhayama irukku’ (It is not that. I am afraid I will forget music). That is the kind of commitment and devotion we need — not just in music, but in whatever we do in life.”

What followed was a concert that was a fitting and moving tribute from a disciple to a guru.

Such a performance cannot be a mere patchwork quilt. Careful planning, abundant intuition, sensitivity and an infallible sense of proportion are necessary for its success. And Krishna is gifted with these qualities, naturally.

Tyagaraja’s Asaveri kriti ‘Lekana ninnu’ with which he began, set the tone for the evening. The kriti was embellished with kalpanaswaras at the pallavi.

Karaharapriya was one of the favourite ragas of Semmangudi Srinivasa Iyer.
| Photo Credit:
The Hindu Archives

Raga Karaharapriya was a favourite of Semmangudi, and Krishna rendered an appealing alapana of the raga for the Neelakanta Sivan composition, ‘Navasiddhi petralum’. Subsequently, he took up a detailed elucidation of Devagandhari. Any raga in Krishna’s hands shows his never-ending quest for excellence. He chose a rarely heard Dikshitar kriti, ‘Vadanyeshvaram bhajeham sada’ and rendered it in a sedate chowka kala, distilling the raga’s essence effectively. Semmangudi rendered this song at his Music Academy recital in 1966.

Then came the Ananda Bhairavi composition by Swati Tirunal, ‘Pahi tarakshu puralaya mamayi’. The swaras that Krishna rendered had a lingering effect.

The main raga of the evening was Sankarabharanam. Following an exhaustive alapana, Krishna provided a glimpse of the tanam, and the rest of it was left to violinist Akkarai Subhalakshmi to complete. As a co-artiste, Subhalakshmi is always in tune with the vocalist, making a mark as a successful accompanist.

Semmangudi’s favourite pallavi

T.M. Krishna with Akkarai Subhalakshmi (violin), K. Arun Prakash (mridangam) and N. Guruprasad (ghatam) at his tribute concert at Ragasudha Hall, Luz, Mylapore.
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

Krishna took up Semmangudi’s favourite pallavi, ‘Chakkagani bhajana jese variki takkuva galada Sri Rama dinadinamu’ in Adi tala. It was a simple, yet melodic pallavi, and beautifully conveyed the essence of the lyrics. Unlike the increasing tendency to indulge in speed and over-embellishment by musicians, Krishna showed restraint and adroitness both in the pallavi and kalpanaswaras, especially in the higher tempo. Thani by K. Arun Prakash on the mridangam, and N. Guruprasad on the ghatam was indeed as it ought to be a continuation and part of the RTP. Both of them enriched the concert through their intelligent playing.

Krishna then continued with a viruththam in Mayamalavagowla, Sahana, Hamir Kalyani, and Kapi, and back in the reverse order. ‘Maulau ganga shashaankau’ the Sanskrit verse was written by Appayya Dikshitar in praise of Nataraja of Chidambaram. This was a staple at Semmangudi’s concerts. Another of the maestro’s favourite that came up next was ‘Sapasyat kausalya’ in Jhonpuri, composed by Panchapakesa Sastri. The kshetrayya padam in Sahana that Krishna sang was ‘Meragadu rammanave naa saamini’. But he commenced the padam from the anupallavi, ‘Muratopu seyaka muvvaGopala samini’.

T.M. Krishna concluded his tribute recital with ‘Sakhi praana sakhuditu jesene’, a javali by Dharmapuri Subbaraya Iyer and Sadasiva Brahmendral’s ‘Pibare ramarasam’ in Yamuna Kalyani.

Published – August 07, 2025 12:50 pm IST

Actor Shwetha Menon (file)
| Photo Credit: special arrangement

Inner Sanctum
| Photo Credit: Special Arrangement

While exploring the German capital of Berlin, where he was a postgraduate student in cinematography at the MetFilm School, filmmaker Sidharth Harikumar often sensed a weight in the air, shadowed by the memory of the Holocaust. He experienced this in public transport and museums.

He came across multiple photos with Nazi soldiers holding a gun to someone’s head, forcing Sidharth to contemplate whether the soldiers questioned their actions or their superiors.

Sidharth Harikumar, the director of Vasu
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

This thought led Sidharth to make Vasu as part of his final-year project at the MetFilm School. The short film tells the story of a retired police officer leading a secluded life in the woods as part of his final-year project at the MetFilm School. Vasu is one of the seven finalists nominated for the Student Academy Awards 2025 in the Narrative category. It is also the only film from India in the running across four categories —Alternative or Experimental, Animation, Documentary and Narrative.

“It is surreal. Vasu, being a student project, was made on a limited budget. This recognition has put us on the international map,” says Siddharth, who has also done the cinematography of the short.

Also read: Malayalam short film ‘Kovarty’ explores romance between a typewriter and the typist

“I started by researching frontline workers and their trauma,” says Sidharth over a call from Chennai. “I focussed on people in the uniformed services in Kerala who were coerced to follow their superiors’ orders and how they lived with that guilt for the rest of their lives.”

The 16-minute film explores Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) experienced by a retired police officer. “Vasu’s character is shaped by obedience and suppression of his emotions,” says Sidharth.

Sidharth Harikumar with actor Parameswaran Kuriyathi during the shoot of Vasu
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

Parameswaran Kuriyathi, 77, a renowned theatre artist from Manacaud, Thiruvananthapuram, plays the titular character. “One of my family friends introduced me to him. When I met Parameswaran chettan, he had long hair and a moustache. He looked like a sadhu. He had not shaved in 30 years. And my first question to him was, ‘Are you willing to shave it off?’ Fortunately, he agreed after our first narration,” says Sidharth.

The film was shot at Chitranjali Studio in Thiruvananthapuram, except for a few scenes shot in Peyad. Vasu treats the wilderness as a character. The plot and visual language aptly conveys a disturbing reality.

Sidharth Harikumar with actor Parameswaran Kuriyathi during the shoot of Vasu
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

Before he joined MetFilm School in London to pursue a master’s in film direction, Sidharth finished his bachelor’s in biotechnology. Soon after he finished his course in London, his father passed away, compelling him to take up the family business.

“My father supported my passion. He exposed me to good cinema at a young age. When I was 10, I used to watch movies that might be considered ‘boring’ at that age,” says Sidharth, who admits his love for legendary Malayalam director G Aravindan, sneaking into Vasu.

“I didn’t think of cinema for five years. Then I worked on a project that rekindled my passion and made me want to study more,” says Sidharth. In 2023, he joined the MetFilm school in Berlin to pursue a master’s in cinematography.

Sidharth’s previous work, Saffron Ash (2017), won Best Student Film at the Calcutta International Cult Film Festival (CICFF) in 2018. Much like Vasu, Saffron Ash centers on reflection, an unintentional creative choice by the maker. “I have never thought about it that way. But I have learnt a lot by looking back, and maybe the next movie I do might not have such an element.”

Sidharth is currently working on the screenplay of his debut feature. “I received offers to teach at film schools before I got to know about the Student Oscar nominations. Maybe, it was a sign for me not to quit filmmaking yet.”

Published – August 07, 2025 11:00 am IST

A still from ‘Him’
| Photo Credit: Universal Pictures

Sony LIV’s new Telugu web series, Mayasabha, opens with a familiar disclaimer: any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental. Yet it does not take long to draw parallels between its characters and the political giants who shaped undivided Andhra Pradesh. Echoes of NT Rama Rao, the actor-turned-leader; YS Rajasekhara Reddy, the doctor-turned-politician; and the current chief minister, N Chandrababu Naidu, and several others ripple throughout the storyline.

Titled Rise of the Titans, the show’s first season is a sharp and dramatic commentary on the socio-political fabric of the State. Ambitious in scope and often gripping in execution, the series draws viewers into a world of power struggles, shifting loyalties and behind-the-scenes drama.

Co-created by Deva Katta and Kiran Jay Kumar, Mayasabha benefits from Deva Katta’s deep interest in politics and bureaucracy — recurring themes in his earlier work. The long-form format allows for a more layered and immersive exploration of character and conflict.

The series kicks off in mid-1995, during a political coup. There is panic among party members as MLAs receive phone calls warning them of impending suspension. They begin to gather in a hotel — an episode that recalls, with unmistakable clarity, a real-life coup that is part of Andhra Pradesh’s political lore. For many in the Telugu States, this incident has been passed down not just through news archives but also as oral history.

Adding to the drama is a fictionalised phone call between Kakarla Krishnam Naidu (played by Aadhi Pinisetty) and his friend, Dr MS Rami Reddy (Chaitanya Rao). While it is unlikely we will ever know if such a call happened between Chandrababu Naidu and YSR, this narrative device serves to deepen the tension and blur the lines between fact and fiction.

A brief but loaded exchange between two former friends-turned-political-rivals sets the tone early in Mayasabha. Comparing a political coup to Kurukshetra, the characters plant the seeds for a high-stakes drama, filled with layered characters and thinly veiled nods to political icons of undivided Andhra Pradesh.

“Yuddham nee dharmam (War is your dharma)” — echoes meaningfully across episodes. What seems like an instigating remark early on reappears later with renewed significance, underlining a pivotal shift in the plot and its characters’ motivations.

The series rewinds to the 1970s, tracing the journeys of the two leads — Rami Reddy (Chaitanya Rao) from Pulicherla in Kadapa and Kakarla Krishnam Naidu (Aadhi Pinisetty) from Narsipalli in Chittoor. This is not just a heroic rise-to-power tale. With an episode pointedly titled ‘The Story of India is the Story of Caste’, Mayasabha acknowledges the weight of caste in shaping personal ambition and public life.

Reddy and Naidu begin as idealists hoping to transcend social divisions, but the reality of factional violence, Naxal movements and systemic inequalities forces their hands. One seeks to uplift his community through political strength; the other craves dignity and redemption for his family name. Their differing responses to societal pressure offer a nuanced look at leadership and legacy.

The nine-episode series brings in a vast ensemble — from marginalised voices caught in crossfire to power-hungry ministers clinging to influence. Ravindra Vijay delivers a standout performance as a man desperate to shield his family from violence, embodying a quiet but powerful resistance. Look out for characters that are on the lines of Paritala Ravi and Vangaveeti Mohana Ranga.

Chaitanya Rao’s portrayal of Rami Reddy, clearly modelled after YSR, is charismatic and grounded. The headgear, the gait, the educational pride, all subtly evoke the late politician without veering into imitation. Chaitanya handles the transformation with maturity and grace. Aadhi Pinisetty, meanwhile, delivers a restrained and calculated performance as Naidu, a man underestimated for his appearance but unwavering in his resolve. His arc is built patiently, and his eventual emergence is satisfying to watch.

The early bond between the two leaders is written with emotional intelligence, reflecting camaraderie, mutual respect, and ideological friction. Their disagreements are rarely venomous, offering a refreshing take on political rivalries.

Sai Kumar in the series
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

Where Mayasabha falters slightly is in its college flashbacks — song-and-dance segments and one-sided romances overstay their welcome in an otherwise taut narrative.

Later episodes shift focus to national politics. Divya Dutta plays a PM who goes through upheavals with a repeated slogan — “India is Ira, Ira is India.” She commands the screen, though the writing ultimately limits the character. Her son is a far less nuanced figure, and some members of her political circle veer into caricature. Still, real-life references, such as the Emergency and forced sterilisation campaigns, add heft with more real life parallels.

Some characters feel designed to highlight Reddy and Naidu as the rightful heirs to the political mantle. Srikanth Iyengar, playing an insecure, power-hungry politician, brings conviction, though his character lacks depth. A memorable assembly scene, in which most MLAs appear to be dozing off, reinforces the idea that strong leadership is in short supply.

There are moments of sharp writing, too. A standout line — “You will give birth to a line of dictators who will use your methods, impose Emergency and not even call it one” — offers a biting critique of unchecked political legacy.

In several sequences, parallels are drawn between Naidu and Reddy react to social conditions. As Mayasabha progresses, it also explores how caste, once resisted by both leads, slowly becomes a necessary political tool.

The large cast includes Shatru, Tanya Ravichandran, Bhavana Vazhapandal and Charitha Varma, all making their mark. Nasser plays a media baron reminiscent of Ramoji Rao, who fuels RCR’s (Sai Kumar) meteoric rise. Scenes showing mass rallies, open-jeep campaigns and calls to Telugu pride mirror the dramatic rise of NTR. Shakthi Kanth Karthick’s music and Praveen KL’s editing are assets to the narrative.

Amid these grand moves are subtle Easter eggs: Naidu’s wardrobe shifting to off-white and yellow, or his symbolic embrace of the cycle as a party symbol.

Ultimately, Mayasabha offers a compelling fictional take on real political history, packed with drama, ambition, and reflection. With Clash of the Titans promised in Season Two, the series sets the stage for even higher stakes ahead.

(Mayasabha: Rise of the Titans streams on Sony LIV)

Published – August 07, 2025 07:01 am IST