Friday, December 12, 2025

AKHANDA 2: TANDEM OF FAITH AND FURY ...... Where Mythic Power Meets Modern Peril : Review By Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

 AKHANDA 2: TANDEM OF FAITH AND FURY

Where Mythic Power Meets Modern Peril

Review By Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

(December 12, 2025)

Cinema often strives to balance spectacle and substance, but there are times when a film transcends both and becomes an experience that invites reflection. I, my wife, encouraged firmly by my film-critic daughter Prema, who reviews cinema with much acclaim on digital media, watched Akhanda 2 (Tandavam) today (December 12, 2025), on the very first day of its release, despite neither of us having watched Akhanda Part One. What unfolded on screen was not merely a sequel but a world unto itself, an embroidery of myth, politics, mysticism, and national anxiety woven together with startling confidence.

The movie reminds us that cinema is not just entertainment but a vessel through which culture, memory, and philosophy travel across generations, offering meaning to those who seek it and excitement to those who simply watch. The film opens with a bold proclamation of intent, presenting itself as an amalgamation of political, social, puranic, folk, artificial-intelligence-driven, theistic, and atheist themes, all woven together with impressive coherence.

The continuity holds strong throughout except for a few moments where the intensity of ideas momentarily outpaces the script. Yet, these brief interruptions do not diminish the film’s larger vision, which is both expansive and daring. What stands out is how the narrative mirrors the fragmented world we inhabit, that is, one where belief systems clash, ideologies collide, and technology increasingly shapes warfare and human destiny.

Written and directed by Boyapati Sreenu, known for his flair for crafting distinctive cinematic worlds, the film remains a testament to his ability to blend mass appeal with myth-infused storytelling. His direction carries the unmistakable signature of grandeur, action, and emotional surge. The production by Ram Achanta, Gopi Achanta, and Ishan Saksena ensures the film remains visually and technically elevated, creating a universe that feels both ancient and startlingly current. In many ways, Boyapati attempts to remind viewers that Indian storytelling, with its deep mythic roots, can still converse fluently with global cinematic vocabulary.

At the heart of the narrative lies Nandamuri Balakrishna, portraying dual roles, one as Akhanda Rudra Aghora and the other as Murali Krishna, the brothers separated by divine intervention, as their mother believes, with the elder child taken away by Lord Shiva himself. The duality is not merely dramatic but symbolic: one brother embodying the grounded human response to conflict, the other representing transcendental strength beyond mortal limits. Such dual portrayals speak to the timeless Indian idea that human beings contain both the worldly and the divine, the pragmatic and the spiritual, coexisting in delicate balance.

Among the cast, Samyukta Menon, though appearing briefly, delivers a performance that resonates deeply. She embodies her role with grace and conviction, whether in scenes where she honestly credits her subordinate Harshaali Malhotra (as Janani) with great research contributions, or when she offers Murali Krishna a military alcoholic drink with polite assertiveness during a birthday visit. Her bravery in the battlefield sequence, even while fatally wounded, where she orchestrates Janani's escape with the life-saving vaccine, stands out as one of the film’s emotionally charged moments. Her character becomes a reminder that courage often reveals itself most clearly in fleeting but decisive instants.

Harshaali Malhotra, portraying the 17-year-old prodigy Janani, adds remarkable depth to the story. Her references to Valmiki Ramayana and the sacred hymns ‘Bala and Atibala’ during her scientific research form a bridge between ancient wisdom and modern innovation. According to the epic, Sage Vishvamitra taught Rama these hymns to grant him unmatched knowledge and resilience. In today’s world, that is overwhelmed by burnout and rapid technological change, the symbolic relevance of ‘Bala and Atibala’ becomes even more essential, reminding us that true strength lies in balanced growth of intellect, spirit, and emotional endurance. Boyapati's decision to include such a reference is indeed noteworthy.

The film begins with a chilling sequence featuring a Military General-implied to be Chinese-relentlessly killing Buddhist monks, likely Tibetans, even taunting their Guru to invoke divine intervention. This unsettling brutality sets the stage for a global conflict of ideologies. His subsequent meeting with another General, who recites the Bhagavad Gita not out of devotion but as a tactical study to defeat Indian forces, introduces a thought-provoking irony. The film quietly suggests that sacred texts, when stripped of ethics, can be misused, echoing a pattern seen throughout history.

The plot thickens when these two generals ally with an ambitious political figure, Thakur, the ‘Prime Minister in Waiting’ desperately, whose family has long thirsted for power. His wealth and influence appear limitless, hinting at the murky entanglements of politics and global conspiracies. Through Thakur, the film comments on the modern prototype of the power-hungry leader who cloaks personal ambition under the guise of national interest.

The narrative shifts gear when a district collector visits the Prime Minister's Office to oppose the selection of a certain village in Kadapa district for a Government of India Rural Development Scheme. His objection stems from its long-standing status as a mafia-controlled drug cultivation den. PMO Principal Secretary Padmavathi (Poorna) contacts Murali Krishna (Nandamuri one Role) to tackle the issue. What the entire district administration failed to handle, he accomplishes single-handedly. Though dramatized, the sequence is exceptionally executed, reflecting cinematic valor. It subtly conveys that individual responsibility, when embraced with integrity, can often shake the foundations of systemic negligence.

During a public event, subsequently, the Prime Minister learns of unrest in Manipur, leading to a tense confrontation with Opposition Leader Thakur. The scene where with a misbehavior, Thakur sits in front of PM, mirrors the character building of contemporary political heavyweights who often wield influence with intimidating assertiveness. The subtext seems to caution against the dangers of unchecked political ambition, particularly in a nation as diverse and sensitive as India.

The narrative then enters its core arc: powerful forces, spiritual, political, and technological, all conspire to destabilize India through biological warfare. A deadly bioweapon attack on the Maha Kumbh Mela triggers national panic. Scientists race against time to develop an antidote, with Janani leading the groundbreaking research and successfully producing a vaccine. Her triumph, however, attracts dangerous attention from malicious groups seeking to exploit her discovery.

As Janani’s life comes under threat, Akhanda Rudra Sikandar Aghora reappears, embodying divine fury and sacred purpose. His presence shifts the film’s tone from political thriller to metaphysical action. Meanwhile, Murali Krishna becomes entangled in the escalating chaos, and the brothers’ paths converge as they confront adversaries who blend occult power with scientific terror. Their combined journey embodies the Indian philosophical idea that dharma must sometimes express itself both through earthly action and spiritual force.

The unfolding sequences move across borders, battlefields, ritual arenas, and clandestine laboratories. Akhanda’s combat, steeped in ritualistic choreography, becomes a visual blend of ancient symbolism and contemporary urgency. At a time when nations grapple with rapid militarization and the ethical dilemmas of biotechnology, these scenes feel uncannily relevant, reflecting global fears hidden beneath the surface of everyday life.

In the climactic confrontation, Akhanda faces the masterminds engineering the nation's chaos. He safeguards Janani and her vaccine, restoring a fragile yet vital calm. His victory symbolizes spiritual resilience triumphing over technological malevolence, reaffirming the inseparable bond between physical survival and metaphysical faith. Jagapathi Babu as Aghora Baba delivers a compelling supporting performance, enhancing the mystical dimension of the narrative.

Yet, certain scenes provoke contemplation. Some elements appear logical, others illogical, or deliberately Ill-Logical, especially the interweaving of theistic power, tantric concepts, atheist perspectives, and even robotics entering the battlefield. These creative liberties reflect the film’s attempt to merge many worlds into one. While Janani’s journey might have benefited from showing her final arrival with the vaccine, the narrative remains engaging.

The soundtrack, featuring Akhanda Thandavam, Gangadhara Shankara, Shiva-Shiva, Shambho, Akhanda Haindhavam’ etc. though dominated by instrumental grandeur, enhances the film’s devotional intensity. Balakrishna’s dialogues on Sanatana Haindava Dharma are powerful, well-scripted, and likely to resonate deeply with the audience. Ultimately, the film asserts a clear message: that spiritual strength, particularly rooted in Vedic Hindu tradition, can transcend worldly power struggles.

Sanatana Dharma, a living, breathing continuum where morality, duty, and cosmic purpose interact with extraordinary subtlety is implicit in the film. What the Maharshis and Brahmarshis, revealed its essence across the Vedas, Upanishads, Itihasas, Puranas, the Mahabharata, the Bhagavata, and the Ramayana that emphasized again and again about Dharma, is also implicit in the film. As the Yugas shift, so too must the moral calibrations appropriate to them. It is in this context that, the film has a lasting value.

In a society often divided between belief and skepticism, the film suggests that faith, when aligned with righteousness, remains an unparalleled force. Akhanda 2 ultimately stands as a film that must be experienced for its multifarious approaches, such as, its sweeping mythological overtones, its sharp political observations, its spiritual depth, and its contemporary relevance spanning biotechnology, warfare, and national integrity. The outdoor settings are strikingly composed

A scene in the movie that deserves special mention is the portrayal of the mother of Balakrishna’s dual roles. Her final wish that, only her long-lost son Akhanda should perform her last rites so she may attain heaven, carries profound emotional and spiritual weight. When Janani conveys the news of her death, Akhanda, deep in penance, shows no external reaction, absorbed in his austere spiritual state. Lord Shiva Himself, assuming Akhanda’s form, performs the rites, while the real Akhanda continues his meditation. The dialogues in this sequence are deeply moving, affirming the bond between divine grace and filial duty.

Later, Akhanda completes his share of the obsequies along the riverbank with Janani by his side. This episode evokes, though not identically, the moment in Adi Shankaracharya’s life when he performed the last rites of his mother Aryamba, despite strict Nambudiri customs forbidding a sannyasi from doing so. Shankara carried her body, arranged a pyre of plantain stalks in their backyard, and lit it through yogic force, an act of supreme compassion and dharma that transcended rigid social codes.

Above all, Nandamuri Balakrishna’s performance, histrionic in the most positive and powerful sense of the word, carries the film with extraordinary intensity, dignity, and command. His dual portrayal becomes not just an artistic achievement but the very anchor of the film’s thematic universe. In harmonizing devotion with drama and philosophy with force, the movie succeeds magnificently in giving audiences both a thrilling spectacle and a resonant reminder of India’s enduring spiritual ethos.

 

2 comments:

  1. A very detailed review ,covering all aspects of film making .Your
    comparision of Adi Sankaracharya episode is very apt .Though I have not seen the film , I found your review as very comprehensive and also
    dispassionate .

    ReplyDelete