Title: KuberaaDirector: Sekhar KammulaCast: Dhanush, Nagarjuna, Rashmika Mandanna, Bagavathi Perumal, Jim SarbhWhere: In theatres near youRating: 3.5 StarsIn Kuberaa, Sekhar Kammula, the unflappable chronicler of heartland sensibilities, tangos with black money, back-room bribery, and geopolitical manoeuvring around oil reserves in the Bay of Bengal—while still trying to keep his trademark idealism intact. The result? A film both ambitious and intermittently arresting, but one that occasionally buckles under the weight of its own earnestness. Still, it’s a work of layered storytelling that wraps a thought-provoking message in the garb of a commercial thriller.At the heart of this tangle is Dhanush’s Deva, a beggar with crisp diction, a spine of steel, and an eye on the bigger picture. It’s a performance that vaults above the film’s more didactic tendencies—raw, physical, and steeped in dignity, even when he’s dumpster-diving. Dhanush disappears into Deva, and if the Oscars ever took notice of performances delivered in dump yards with Shiva stotrams (hymns) playing in the background, he’d have a shot.But this is no one-man show. Nagarjuna Akkineni, resplendently greyed and gravely reserved, plays Deepak, a chartered accountant whose strategic brilliance masks a deep disillusionment with corruption. While Dhanush gets the sweat and grime, Nagarjuna strolls through the marble-floored moral dilemmas in tailored outfits—his stoicism serving as a counterweight to the film’s melodrama.Rashmika Mandanna, as Sameera, plays emotional ballast and plot-mover with equal grace. In an industry that often reduces female leads to flashbacks or flashpoints, here she’s a woman whose downward spiral into precarity isn’t just symbolic—it’s systemic. Her monologue about "begging" is perhaps the film’s most incisive moment, a quiet burn that says more about inequality than any of the film’s broader machinations.And yes, there’s Jim Sarbh—charming, chilling, and underused. As Neeraj, the suave billionaire aiming to privatize patriotism via oil barrels and bribery, he’s so icy you suspect he wears SPF indoors. His presence shapes the film’s tension, though he’s on-screen just long enough to leave you wanting more.Kammula’s signature restraint works both for and against him. The screenplay favours silences, glances, and montage storytelling, which works beautifully in the beggars’ backstories—delivered with no dialogue and full of soul. But when the plot shifts gears into geopolitical noir, the film sputters. A film trying to juggle poverty, privilege, public policy, and a star-studded cast might have benefited from a little less polish and a little more pulp.Technically, the film dazzles. Niketh Bommireddy’s lensing is lush and unafraid—capturing the slums and skylines of Bombay with equal drama. Devi Sri Prasad’s score swells just where it should, though one suspects even he couldn’t rescue the soggy pre-interval stretch or the suspiciously rushed climax. At over three hours, Kuberaa asks for a patience that’s increasingly rare in the age of bite-sized storytelling—and doesn’t always earn it.Kuberaa isn’t a perfect film. It soars early, stumbles briefly, and skids at the end. But its heart beats loud, and sometimes, that’s enough. If you’re the kind who likes their thrillers brooding rather than blazing, with a pinch of moral inquiry and a generous dollop of understated star power, it might be your currency of choice.