‘OG’ Movie Review: Pawan Kalyan Film Is Stylish In Form, Dated In Drama

Filmmaker Sujeeth’s They Call Him OG doesn’t tell us anything that films before it haven’t. A promised one lurks in the shadows, gangsters war for control over the Bombay port, blood is profusely shed — of friends and foes, families are splintered, and the one finally emerges. The Pawan Kalyan film takes this cocktail of templates and packages them into a nifty ride. Action sequences — by masters Peter Hein, Stunt Silva, and Kecha Khampakdee, among others — are extensively pored over to give us inventive stunts that don’t make us look away in boredom. Music, even if derivative in places, keeps the film tight. Ravi K Chandran and Manoj Paramahamsa's intuitive camerawork matches the snazzy manga aesthetic in the flashback portions. But how much can all of this keep flat writing at bay?

The narrative largely follows the rivalry between two dons in Mumbai: Satya Dada (Prakash Raj) and Mirajkar’s sons (Omi played by Emraan Hashmi and Jimmy played by Sudev Nair). The setting is very intrinsically nineties. Bellbottoms and mullets are in. Gangsters sashay in vintage cars, and the guns are promptly stowed away. OG is all about knives. When both these parties brawl over an RDX container, a symbol in many ways of Bombay city itself, the mighty Ojas Gambheera (Pawan Kalyan) or OG is summoned.

Pawan Kalyan in 'OG'

There are enough things that keep us interested in the first half. Topping this list is Naveev Nooli’s editing. OG jumps time periods and cities every few minutes. We’re learning Gambheera’s storied past training with the samurais in 1970s Tokyo one minute, and witnessing an important MacGuffin that unfolds in a Nashik hospital in the 90s. Nooli’s cuts often map out the film’s various labyrinthine ideas and iron them into place, lending even generic scenes complexity. Gambheera’s roots in Japan, involving a showdown between yakuzas and samurais, are etched out intriguingly in the beginning. Details like these, which accentuate Pawan Kalyan’s existing legacy as a martial arts patron, are smart additions to a star film like this. Gambheera refuses to use guns — of course, he gives up this abstinence soon enough, but it’s fun while it lasts. Swords, nunchucks and daggers take over pistols, which are a pleasant sight to eyes that have been desensitised with years of gun violence on screen.

This also gives the space for stunt masters to shine. From the Old Boy corridor to the Scarface gun rampage, OG peppers these derivations with enough Indian sensibilities to make things entertaining. But the drama, which should’ve ideally been a competent companion piece to these scenes, lacks emotional depth. A scene at the police station, which wordlessly establishes Gambheera’s might and his relationship with Bombay, is a superb example of what the film could’ve been. This is possibly the only time Gambheera shows any personality in the film, which is not shooting daggers with his eyes.

Sriya Reddy in 'OG'

Secondary characters such as Satya Dada and Geetha (Sriya Reddy) get important roles in an individual context. But their complicated relationship with Gambheera, which is a central theme in the film, is glossed over. Arjun Das plays the prince next in line to Satya Dada’s throne. But his indifference, which is backed by a solid backstory, doesn’t get the importance it deserves. It also doesn't help that the film's primary antagonist (Omi) is so colourless and forgettable that the only thing we take away from his track is that he loves hourglasses for some reason.

The banality in the plot is often never the issue with such films. By this point, audiences of the genre are used to predicting which person is going to drop dead without warning or who is going to come back from exile. But it’s the tact that unflinchingly pulls us into these films. OG has massive fan service and enough style to back up the service; just not enough for us to look past its glaring dullness in writing.