By TN Ashok
New York
youtube.com/@theflagpost
October 04, 2025
When Kantara dropped quietly in Karnataka in September 2022, nobody expected a rustic, modestly budgeted Kannada film to shake the Indian box office. Written, directed, and headlined by Rishab Shetty, this ₹15-crore gem detonated into a ₹400-crore juggernaut, dethroning even KGF: Chapter 2 in its home state and grabbing global attention. It wasn’t just a movie—it was a cultural earthquake.
Now, Shetty has swung back with Kantara: Chapter 1—a prequel that goes deeper, older, and darker, pulling audiences straight into the myth-soaked soil of Tulunadu. Released October 2, 2025, the film turns the clock back to the Kadamba dynasty era (~4th–6th century CE) and digs into the raw origins of spirits, rituals, and guardians that haunted the original.
First Impressions – A Tribal Epic
I caught the film’s first day, first show at Regal in downtown New York. The hall was near full,buzzing with anticipation. I hadn’t even seen the original Kantara, yet Chapter 1 swallowed me whole. This wasn’t just cinema—it was a ritual. Rishab Shetty creates a world steeped in superstition, feral worship, and divine rage. It’s primal storytelling that claws at your instincts. The central arc? Berme, a warrior figure who channels tribal gods to resist enslavement by a tyrant King of Bangra—an echo of Pharaohs enslaving the Hebrews until Moses rose. Berme is that Moses. His defiance, possessed by half-human, half-divine ferocity, powers the film.
The Cast – Ferocity and Firepower
Shetty doesn’t just write and direct—he shoulders the protagonist role, pouring raw energy into every frame. Opposite him, Gulshan Devaiah, usually known for restrained performances (Dahaad), unleashes his inner beast as the debauched King Kulashekara. Veteran Malayalam and Tamil cinema actor Jayaram as his father and Rukmini Vasanth as Kanakavanthi—the tigress princess who roars as fiercely as she loves—round out the drama. It’s gutsy casting, and it works. Shetty demands nothing less than feral performances from his ensemble, and the payoff is visceral.
Folklore, Myth, and the Roots of Fear
At its thematic core, Kantara is about the eternal conflict: man vs. nature, tradition vs. power, and the fragile ecology of spirit, land, and people. The film leans heavily on Bhoota Kola, the living ritual of spirit worship in coastal Karnataka—particularly Panjurli Daiva (the protective boar spirit) and Guliga Daiva (the chaotic destroyer).
These aren’t cinematic inventions. In Tulunadu, these rituals, sacred groves, and oral chants (paddanas) still shape daily life. Shetty doesn’t garnish his film with folklore; he builds his story on it. In Chapter 1, he pushes myth further, blending history with imagination, creating a semi-mythic realm where tribal defiance meets divine possession.
From Yakshagana Stages to Global Screens
Shetty’s rise has the flavor of a legend itself. Born in Keradi, steeped in Yakshagana folk theatre, he slogged through odd jobs before making films. His directorial path ran from Ricky (2016) to Kirik Party (a college blockbuster) to the National Award-winning Sarkari Hi. Pra. Shaale (2018). As an actor, he shone in Bell Bottom (2019) and Garuda Gamana Vrishabha Vahana (2021). But Kantara was the ignition point. A “small” regional film that rewrote rules, proving rooted stories could resonate nationwide, even globally.
The Scale and the Stakes
The first film’s ₹400-crore miracle was earned, not manufactured. Dubbed versions in Hindi, Telugu, Malayalam, and Tamil found mass audiences. Overseas, it pulled in ₹40+ crore. It showed that a story drenched in local ritual and land rights could fight—and win—against flashy spectacles.
With Chapter 1, Shetty ups the ante. Reports peg the budget near ₹125 crore, with sets, costuming, and VFX going full epic. Bulgarian stunt director Todor Lazarov (“Juji” of RRR fame) choreographs battles, promising an adrenaline-fuelled ride. The ambition is clear: this is not just a prequel—it’s a mythological reimagining on a grand canvas.
Rajamouli Comparisons – Fair or Not?
Critics are already calling Shetty the “Rajamouli of Karnataka.” It’s tempting. Both directors weld myth, history, and spectacle. Both elevate the local to pan-Indian. But the comparison is imperfect. Rajamouli works with pan-Indian epics like Baahubali and RRR. Shetty mines the hyper-local—tribal rituals, Tulunadu folklore, syncretic deity worship. Rajamouli commands massive studios and resources; Shetty’s rise has been scrappier, riskier, more grassroots. If Rajamouli is the myth’s emperor, Shetty is folklore’s warrior. And that distinction makes his work thrillingly original.
Verdict – A Cultural Experience, Not Just a Movie
Kantara: Chapter 1 is more than a prequel. It’s a reclamation of stories whispered in villages, danced in rituals, and carried through centuries of oral tradition. It’s myth, yes—but myth rooted in lived culture. Rishab Shetty proves he isn’t just chasing spectacle; he’s anchoring scale to authenticity. That’s why Kantara isn’t just cinema—it’s a cultural jolt. The visual impact is so immense , the film is totally immersive, making it an experience.
Go see it in theatres. Feel the drums of Bhoota Kola, the roar of Panjurli, the fire of Berme’s defiance. In an age when films often sell you glitter without soul, Kantara: Chapter 1 gives you both. But the verdict is clear: Shetty hasn’t just made a film. He’s lit a torch for rooted, feral, unapologetic
cinema. And right now, Indian film needs exactly that.
