'FireFly' Movie Review: Vamshi Krishna's Film is a Visually Striking Tale That Doesn't Entirely Resonate

Director: Vamshi Krishna
Writer: Vamshi Krishna, Raghu Niduvalli (dialogue)
Cast: Vamshi Krishna, Achyuth Kumar, Sudharani, Rachana Inder, Sheetal Shetty, Moogu Suresh
Language: Kannada

If Sumanth Bhat’s Mithya came as a simmering and intense chronicle of grief, Vamshi Krishna’s new film FireFly tackles the same emotion with a whole lot of whimsy and style. Both Kannada films are similar in how they document a character’s journey dealing with the loss of loved ones, yet they are starkly dissimilar in the energy and rhythm that they carry.

Vivekananda or ‘Vicky’ the protagonist of FireFly (played by Vamshi himself), has just returned home from the U.S. for a wedding that he wasn’t technically invited to, but he is mostly looking forward to spending time with his family. Tragedy strikes right on cue to leave him in a three-month coma and then bring him out of it to make him suffer even more. The weight of the said tragedy is so heavy that Vicky turns insomniac, irritable and irrational, much to the bewilderment of those around him.

FireFly, at the outset, is both a coming-of-age journey as well as a frantic yet tender coping mechanism against depression. Vicky has a life of comfort around him — relatives who ‘kinda’ care about him, a high-end flat (among other financial privileges) that his parents own, and a career that he could always return to for good money. Yet, his heart yearns for the love that he can never have again and it runs a mad riot: therapy, an innocent attempt at drugs, trying his hand at teaching kids, and even building a time machine extends him no reprieve. 

Visually, Vamshi makes no qualms about his Wes Anderson inclinations in the film. From the use of bold pastel colours to the classic symmetric, centred framing and the lateral panning of the camera (all further highlighted by the confined aspect ratio), each frame boasts thought, design and inventiveness. Abhilash Kalathi’s cinematography is showy yet crafty in that its perpetual drift and flow is a fitting foil to the lifelessness that the protagonist is experiencing. Even Kamath Varadaraj’s art direction and Divya Reddy’s costumes, both bright in nature, are rightly juxtaposed with Vicky’s drab existence.

Charan Raj's music breathes life into the film in multiple ways; it not only lends a personality but also uplifts the writing when it falls flat. From rock ballads to gentle hums, the composer is in peak form across a wide range.

But while the imaginative visual aesthetic of FireFly leaves its mark, the film’s emotional core lacks sufficient depth. Vamshi imagines the film as a long montage of striking moments which work in isolation, but the writing fails to weave them into a coherent narrative. We don’t really get to know who Vicky is (or was, prior to the incident) as much as we are told repeatedly about his inner turmoil. Vicky increasingly grows restless because he just cannot stop living in his head, but this is conveyed a few too many times that you’d want both the character and the story to move on a little.

Simultaneously, the persistent gaze on the protagonist renders most other characters slightly redundant. A film of similar temperament, Ayan Mukerji’s Wake Up Sid (2009), employed many supporting players who added value to the story with their charm and personality, but FireFly doesn’t have many such characters. A few crop up at key moments to liven things up, but the film still doesn't fully explore the opportunities it presents to itself.

Vamshi's effort, though, remains evident throughout and it yields some memorable moments. Rachana Inder's role is one such silver lining and so is the subtle manner in which Vicky grows close to his extended family. The humour doesn't completely land as intended, and FireFly, in general, lacks the snap that you want from a tragi-dramedy. Still, there's a distinct ambition at play here — if all else fails, Shiva Rajkumar’s cameo might just win you over.