The Kannada movie, currently streaming on Amazon Prime Video, bites off more than it can chew; it’s weighed down by convoluted subplots and uneven performances


The concept behind Shakhahaari (The Vegetarian), a Kannada movie released in February this year and currently streaming on Amazon Prime Video, is quite interesting. It could have unfolded into a gripping thriller in which individuals mysteriously vanish within the confines of a small village restaurant or eatery.

As is often the case, an intriguing concept in a movie demands a certain level of practicality to be successfully brought to life. However, when one becomes too infatuated with the idea, it can be challenging to transform it into a coherent film. This is the struggle that the director, Sandeep Sunkad, faces with Shakhahaari. In the realm of thrillers, a certain level of detachment is crucial for the director, who must maintain a clinical approach to execution. This is where the movie falters.

One too many subplots

The premise is straightforward. A local village cook (Rangayana Raghu) who runs a small eatery from a ramshackle place finds himself in a dilemma when a murder accused uses his shop as a hideout after escaping from a police station. The sub-inspector (Gopalkrishna Deshpande), who is in charge of his case, is also struggling with his own personal issues. His wife is battling a serious illness, and his transfer to his hometown depends entirely on his cracking the case.

For a movie to be engrossing, especially when using the thriller genre to tell a story, the director must confine himself to fewer actors and have a razor-sharp focus on the narration. Hence, a few subplots could have been eliminated because you keep wondering where these are leading, distracting the viewers from the main narrative and lessening the impact of the movie. The director probably wanted to use them as metaphors, but for that to happen, the scriptwriters needed to invest more in developing the scenes to be effective.

For instance, the middle-aged cook waits every day to catch a glimpse of a lady on a bus who, we are informed much later, wished to marry him but couldn’t because of her parents’ opposition to her choice. Towards the movie’s end, she turns up at his eatery in an attempt to revive their relationship because of her changed circumstances, only to find that a continuous stream of customers prevents them from talking. This scene could have been handled more delicately, but Rangayana Raghu struggles to emote well, leaving the audience more irritated than empathetic.

Missing: A touch of refinement

Rangayana Raghu, who is meant to be the highlight of the movie, fails to fully engage with his role, either due to the poorly written script or his own lack of interest. His character is constantly cross with his customers, leaving viewers wondering about the reason behind such behaviour. Surprisingly, consecutive tragedies seem to invigorate his otherwise dull life when they should have left him more remorseful. Additionally, it is baffling that, aside from one customer, no one else notices the smell of burning flesh. This might serve as a spoiler, but it underscores the weak foundation of the movie’s script.

Perhaps the one who comes across as better equipped to handle the rather stodgy narration is a pesky customer (Sujay Shastri) of the eatery who keeps getting under the skin of the cook. He has a small role but makes enough of it to draw attention to his talent.

As Alfred Hitchcock once told auteur François Truffaut in an interview, suspense requires that the audience be aware that the terrible event might happen and then keep them dangling on a string that builds up tension. A scuffle or a slap does not always lead to death, but if it happens repeatedly, you know the director can’t find anything more clever than to use them as props to help build the climax. This movie had all the makings of an engaging thriller bordering on horror but needed more refinement than what was delivered.

Next Story