Mass Jathara features Ravi Teja. (Photo: Special Arrangement)
In recent years, many Ravi Teja films have promised a full-on ‘mass’ experience, aiming to rekindle the star’s iconic energy and timing from the late 2000s, a period that truly defined his career. However, only a handful, like Krack and Dhamaka, managed to deliver on these expectations. Too often, his other projects have either missed the mark entirely or felt like an unintentional parody of his peak. Sadly, Mass Jathara now joins this growing list of disappointing releases.
Bhanu Bhogavarapu, known for writing quirky and light-hearted Telugu films such as Vivaha Bhojanambu, Samajavaragamana, and Single, makes his directorial debut with Mass Jathara. As a self-proclaimed fan of Ravi Teja, Bhogavarapu attempts to craft an unapologetic tribute to the star. His strategy relies on a flimsy plot, hoping that Ravi Teja’s trademark mannerisms and periodic self-referential nods will be enough to create a high-octane spectacle. This reliance, however, proves to be the film’s undoing.
Mass Jathara (Telugu)
Once again, Ravi Teja is cast as a cop (a role he seems to revisit frequently). This time, his character, Lakshman Bheri, faces a rather peculiar restriction: he’s a railway cop, and all his heroic exploits are confined to the Adavivaram station premises. Despite this limitation, he’s a righteous officer who means business. Known for his headstrong nature, he often finds himself at odds with superiors and politicians, driven by his unwavering goal to eradicate the region’s rampant drug trade.
Lakshman appears to have little to lose in life. He was raised by his grandfather (Rajendra Prasad), is supposedly middle-aged (much like many senior male actors in their 50s and 60s), and remains unmarried. His romantic interest is Tulasi (Sreeleela), a school teacher who happens to commute on the same train. Standing in his way is Sivudu (Naveen Chandra), a menacing, cannabis-smoking drug peddler who serves as Lakshman’s primary antagonist.
The first half of Mass Jathara indulges in the film’s softer, more personal aspects. Lakshman’s struggles with love and marriage are explored, as is his peculiar, love-hate relationship with his grandfather (whose characterization might leave audiences questioning his sanity). The film sprinkles in occasional references to Ravi Teja’s past hits like Naa Autograph and Venky. Predictably, frequent clashes with Sivudu’s henchmen build up to a high-voltage intermission sequence.
The second half introduces a more tangible threat to Ravi Teja’s character, raising the stakes considerably. Here, a few sequences genuinely hint at the explosive potential that Mass Jathara strives for. Much like the memorable ‘wolf pack’ scene in Krack, Ravi Teja engages a group of ruthless contract killers in a truly superb action sequence, offering a brief flicker of what the film could have been.
Despite this stronger second half, Mass Jathara ultimately succumbs to a worn-out formula of action, sentiment, comedy, and song. The overall execution feels lazy, as if the filmmakers are taking the audience’s patience for granted (a patience that, like the reviewer’s, was quickly wearing thin). There’s even a clever twist involving Sreeleela’s character, Tulasi, that connects to the broader conflict, but the director unfortunately reduces it to a conventional damsel-in-distress cliché.
Just when you’re almost ready to give up on the film, a cleverly staged confrontation, reminiscent of popular action thrillers like Kaithi and Vikram, injects some much-needed life into the proceedings. However, the fundamental flaw of Mass Jathara is its inability to sustain this momentum after these fleeting moments of brilliance. The ending, a chaotic flurry of flying bodies and spinning heads, feels like a mere formality rather than a satisfying conclusion.
Sivudu’s villainy also presents a significant issue; his character feels jarringly primitive for contemporary times. With unkempt hair, a lungi, and a tendency to use reptiles to ensnare victims or chain women who refuse his advances, he even references the Ramayana and Mahabharata while reacting impulsively, making it hard to take him seriously. Despite these shortcomings, Naveen Chandra delivers his performance with earnestness, admirably refraining from going overboard.
Mass Jathara offers some low-key entertainment when Ravi Teja shares the screen with Praveen, Hyper Aadi, Ajay Ghosh (whose platform ticket humor is genuinely amusing), and Sreeleela (though their track starts strong before losing its way). Naresh and VTV Ganesh also contribute a few good laughs with their comedic timing.
Ravi Teja is in remarkably good form as a dancer, channeling the energetic vibes of 1990s Hindi cinema star Govinda. Rajendra Prasad gets a particularly crowd-pleasing sequence towards the end, a moment that likely convinced him to take on this role.
Taarak Ponnappa arrives too late to make any significant impression. Talented actors like Samuthirakani and Murali Sharma are unfortunately given underdeveloped roles that don’t allow them to shine. While a few songs by Bheems Ceciroleo have a catchy rhythm, the overwhelmingly loud and soul-numbing background score can severely test the audience’s patience. Visually, the constant railway station backdrop becomes quite repetitive after a while.
Ultimately, Mass Jathara stands as yet another fruitless attempt to revive Ravi Teja’s career by leaning heavily on his past glory. The message is clear: audiences are yearning for something fresh and new.