Written by Siddhartha Krishnan | 9 Min Read

Kantara (2022) arrived quietly as a small film with a big heart. Made on a modest budget of around ₹16 crore, it went on to storm the box office, grossing nearly ₹450 crore worldwide. It wasn’t just a commercial phenomenon; it was a cultural one. In my review (read here) of the first instalment, I had written that it was “a film that broke the mould.” One that made audiences rethink what ‘rooted in culture’ truly means. What I meant was that unless a filmmaker stays true to the world they are creating, there can be no originality or authenticity.

So when Rishab Shetty returned with the prequel, Kantara: A Legend – Chapter 1, the stakes were monumental. The first film was high on imagination yet grounded in simplicity. With a reported budget of ₹125 crore and nearly three years in the making, the director brings a mythic origin story that, ever since its trailer release, has caught the public imagination. But does it live up to its legacy? Does it take the world of Kantara somewhere new?

The Story:

The story unfolds during the reign of the Kadamba dynasty nearly 1500 years ago. The royal kingdom has set its sights on the rich spices that grow deep within the forests of Kantara, treasures that could open the doors to foreign trade and overflowing coffers. But these sacred spice gardens are protected by the Daivas, and when King Vijayendra of Bangra dares to trespass into them with his men, he is struck down by the gods of the forest.

His son, Rajashekhara, consumed by vengeance, bides his time, waiting for the right moment to annihilate the tribal guardians of Kantara. His heir, Kulashekhara, who ascends the throne next, is far less patient, self-absorbed, impulsive, and blinded by power. His sister, Kanakavathi, serves as a counterpoint, measured, empathetic, and intent on finding a middle ground where the royals and the natives can coexist in mutual benefit.

It is in this volatile landscape that we meet Berme, a native of Kantara whose origins are veiled in mystery. A man of fierce ambition and indomitable spirit, he sees through the injustice of the barter system that keeps his people in servitude. Determined to reclaim their dignity, Berme sets out on a perilous journey into the heart of the royal kingdom to demand their rightful share.

What unfolds is a tale steeped in fantasy, mythology, folklore, and magical realism, a layered narrative of resistance and belief, where the battle between the natives and the settlers becomes as much spiritual as it is territorial.

Production Design:

World-building has been the greatest strength of all the Shetty brothers’ films. They have an uncanny knack for getting their worlds pitch-perfect, regardless of budget or scale.

Such a feat is never the work of one man. It demands an expert team. Leading that effort is Vinesh Banglan, the art director, whose previous works include Home (2021) and Kurup (2022). In an interview with Cinema Express, Banglan said, “In the hands of Rishab Shetty, Kundapura became a living, breathing world in Kantara: Chapter 1. Every frame tells a story, every detail resonates, and the land itself becomes a character.” He went on to explain how Rishab took his time to walk him through the region’s culture, its landscape, and eventually the story itself. The focus, from the very beginning, was clearly on detailing — something no one can fault either instalment for.

Every frame feels carefully composed. Whether it’s the village of Kantara nestled deep within the forests of Tulu Nadu, the grand kingdom of Kulashekhara, or the bustling Bangra port, each space feels alive and tangible.

Banglan credits Arvind Kashyap, the cinematographer of both films, for introducing him to Rishab. Anyone who has seen the film would agree — this was a collaboration that elevated the franchise, perfectly matching its scale and ambition.

Cinematography:

Arvind Kashyap’s cinematography retains the visual brilliance of the first instalment and goes a step further, elevated by the prequel’s intense action scenes. His masterful play of light continues to define the film’s visual language, but what stands out here is his ability to capture high-octane sequences with remarkable control and intelligence. The camera is purposeful, never showy, reflecting a deep understanding of rhythm and movement. It is evident that Rishab and Arvind share a creative synergy, each attuned to the other’s instincts and the demands of the script.

Prosthetics:

The prosthetics and makeup department, led by Suresh Kumar and Ronex Xavier, also make a significant contribution to the film’s immersive realism. Their craftsmanship lends authenticity to each transformation, making the characters both believable and textured. The most striking example is the character of Mayakara, brought to life through a seamless blend of prosthetics and visual effects. The VFX never overwhelms; it remains subtle, serving the story rather than distracting from it.

Costume Design:

Another standout element of Kantara: Chapter 1 is the costume design by Pragathi Shetty, Rishab Shetty’s wife. In a film of such scale and ambition, it would have been easy to drift into excess, but her work remains grounded, meticulous, and true to the world of Kantara. Each garment feels lived-in and purposeful, reflecting a deep respect for period accuracy and cultural authenticity. It is a testament to how thoughtful design can enhance storytelling, deserving of recognition from discerning viewers.

Screenplay:

I watched the film with my family and friends, including my ten-year-old son and his best friend. One lingering concern before the screening was whether the children would be able to follow the story, and if the film might slow down into stretches that would test their patience. Thankfully, it never does. The boys were absorbed from start to finish, which speaks volumes about how effectively Rishab Shetty weaves folklore and fantasy to build the magical world of Kantara. It is easy to forget that he has also written the film, but his deep understanding of this world, its rhythms, beliefs, and conflicts, shines through every frame.

Action Choreography:

Another reason the film holds attention so completely is its thrilling action. Those who have seen it will agree that much of the runtime is devoted to some form of combat or confrontation, with the remaining portions dedicated to character reveals and plot turns. Given this structure, the action had to deliver, and it does. Choreographers Todor Lazarov, Arjun Raj, and the duo Ram-Lakshman have crafted intelligent, visually engaging sequences that keep viewers at the edge of their seats. The precision and scale of these moments elevate the film, making them impossible to overlook.

Performances:

The narrative centers around four key characters, Berme (Rishab Shetty), Rajashekhara (Jayaram), Kulashekhara (Gulshan Devaiah), and Kanakavathi (Rukmini Vasanth). One of the strengths of Rishab’s writing lies in how he ensures that each of them has a clear purpose within the story. Their arcs unfold rapidly but meaningfully, and every performance leaves a mark. Rishab is at the top of his game, while Gulshan Devaiah, as his formidable counterpart, delivers a standout performance that lingers long after the credits roll.

Flaws:

Where the film stumbles slightly is in its use of humor. A few jokes during the action sequences infused to lighten the mood feel misplaced and fail to land. This cannot be attributed to translation issues since I watched the film in Kannada, its original language.

The romantic thread between Berme and Kanakavathi is another weak link. It feels forced, underwritten, and unnecessary, echoing one of the few criticisms directed at the first instalment. Given the otherwise tight storytelling, this subplot could have been handled with greater depth or restraint.

But these are minor hiccups that hardly dull the impact of the final product. The pacing of the film, elevated by Ajaneesh Loknath’s stirring background score, keeps the audience engrossed throughout. There are several mythological references that might not be entirely understood by those unfamiliar with the culture of coastal Karnataka, yet the way these elements are woven into the narrative makes for a thoroughly engaging watch.

In an interview with film critic Baradwaj Rangan, Rishab mentioned that he prefers not to explain his interpretations of the story, especially the parts that leave the audience with questions. He said, “What I feel is that the audience should talk about it based on their perspective. I feel that’s beautiful. They will have many versions, think about it from many angles. I’m enjoying seeing all of that.” He even admits that, at times, it’s through the audience that he gains new insights into his own film, ideas he might carry forward into the next chapter.

This openness reflects Rishab’s evolution as a filmmaker, a sincere student of cinema who values how his stories resonate with audiences while remaining true to his craft.

Conclusion:

I watched Kantara: A Legend Chapter 1 in a packed Bengaluru theatre in its third week, hoping to be surprised and quietly praying that the creators hadn’t been swayed by their own artistry or the avalanche of acclaim that followed the first film. The fear, of course, was that Kantara: A Legend – Chapter 1 might become a noisy spectacle, all show and no soul. Thankfully, I was wrong. I walked out of the theatre happy.

This is a film made for the big screen, immersive, richly detailed, and deeply rooted in its world. It is a painstakingly crafted work that balances spectacle with sincerity, folklore with fantasy. The result is a worthy successor that draws the audience in and holds them captive until the very end.

It is a film that Kannada cinema can take pride in, not without its flaws, but one that never loses its heart. I enjoyed this long, immersive prequel, and not once during its runtime did I find myself bored. Because despite its expanded scope, Kantara: A Legend – Chapter 1 plays to its greatest strength: its rootedness.

With this chapter, Rishab Shetty once again proves his ability to blend myth, folklore, mystery, and emotion into something that feels both personal and universal. The film does not just expand the world of Kantara; it deepens it, leaving us eager for what comes next.

Verdict:
IMDb rating: 8.5/10
My rating: 3.5/5

Kantara: A Legend – Chapter 1 is currently streaming on Amazon Prime Video.

Pic credits: Hombale Films

***

About the author:

Siddhartha Krishnan is the author of ‘Two and a Half Rainbows – A Collection of Short Stories’. An enthusiastic blogger he shares his essays, travelogues, book and movie reviews on his blog (www.whatsonsidsmind.com).