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Krishna Arjun, Review: A one-shot movie that experiments
within a formula
Rick W
/ Categories: Film Score News

Krishna Arjun, Review: A one-shot movie that experiments within a formula

Krishna Arjun, Review: A one-shot movie that experiments within a formula

Hemwant Tiwari (no typo here; it is HemWant, and not Hemant) released Krishna Arjun on YouTube, on 27 March this year. More than three months later, he organised a press show, on 02 July 2025, at the IMPPA mini-theatre, in Andheri, Mumbai. Here, he revealed that even after a year of having shown his film to the Central Board of Film Certification, he was refused a certificate, unless he carried out the cuts, maskings and blips they had ordered. Tiwari claims to have made the world’s genuine, second (he made the first one two, titled Lomad, in 2023) one-shot, one-take feature film, unlike Birdman and 1917, which were planned shot and edited to convey the impression of being one take films. Making any cuts would defeat the whole exercise, because it would then take away from Hemwant the credit of making a one-take film. Cuts, even one cut, would be noticeable, and belie his claim that his film is a one shot movie. The censors have objected to the generous use of expletives and sexual dialogue, and near total nudity, all of which was shown uncut and unmasked, except for a couple of blips or mutes. Krishna Arjun is also touted as the world’s first one-take film with the lead actor in a double role. But what is the film about?

No, it is not a mythological, based on the characters of the Mahaabhaarat. Set in the 21st century Bihar, it is about two identical twin brothers and their brushes with a corrupt and rapacious Member of the Legislative Assembly (MLA), Giriraj Yadav, who is supported by the local police, to suppress a case, wherein one of his rape victims, Kusum, got pregnant, and is now about to deliver a baby. He had been imprisoned during a trial for the crime, but was let out for want of sufficient evidence, and help from the Chief Minister (CM). The CM is as promiscuous as the MLA, or perhaps more, and the MLA has secretly made a video of the CM having a romp with three women, which he uses to blackmail him, and interfere in the case. Arjun had also worked for him once, as a hit-man, in a botched mission to kill the persons who had robbed him and decamped with the booty. The woman he raped was the secret heart-throb of Arjun, who used to write poems dedicated to her, without being introduced to her. Arjun works as an odd-job man, washing, drying and ironing clothes for the local Muslim priest, Maulana, who runs a laundry service. He also takes on other part-time jobs, but is unable to earn much, and his family is in deep debt.

There is a village belle who he saved from getting raped and who now lusts for him, even ‘woman-handling’ him and egging him on to have sex with him. One day, while he is talking to his friend, Gopal, who is drinking beer, two policemen happen to come around, and try to molest the girl. Arjun and his friend protest and try to intervene. This results in their being taken to the police station, for interrogation and, most likely, lock-up. The entire police station seems to comprise of totally corrupt and loud-mouthed personnel. Suddenly, there arrives Kusum, the girl who was raped by the Yadav. The MLA, himself, arrives soon after. And then all hell breaks loose. Arjun and his friend try to save the girl and themselves from the police by grabbing firearms and holding the police and the MLA at bay. But when shooting erupts, Gopal gets killed, and Arjun falls soon afterwards. No worries, Arjun’s brother, Krishna, is still alive, and will soon arrive, to extract revenge.

There is no uniqueness in the story, except that it has identical twins born to parents who live in penury, and one of them takes the dark road, while the other traverses the grey path. MLAs and CMs being rapists and entire police stations being corrupt are tropes that have been beaten to death in the last 20 years. Within this stereo-typical formulaic narrative, the writer builds in the caste system, promiscuity and homosexuality. Attempts to infuse comedy are puerile, with a police inspector speaking in a squeaky female voice, but, when his neck is turned at an angle, by others, coming back to his normal, male pitch. The blabbering of Gopal too is forced and fails to evoke laughter. Writing a film that was to be shot in one take must have been difficult, mainly because of the changes in locale and camera angles. To that extent, the film is a breakthrough. Not having seen Lomad, also a one-take film made by the same man, Hemwant Tiwari, one cannot have any comparison here. Dialogue is full of invectives, mouthed both by male and female actors, with felicity. For the rest, it is the Bihari dialect that is used by all actors. Voice-overs and captions, to give a supercilious philosophical and mythological touch, and references to a Formula 1 race driver, to appeal to a higher class of audience, appear artificial, and fail to impress.

When you have a 134-minute script and want to shoot is in one shot, the only approach can be that of drama. To ensure characters and objects remain in frame, and entries and exits are captured as planned, the key would be rehearsals, with hundreds of positions, where characters are supposed to stand, marked on the ground. The more the rehearsals, the better would be the end result. Rehearsals are also mandatory for the operative cameraman/cameramen (a hand-held camera is used), to ensure both: clear approaches to camera positions, and sufficient lighting to make the happenings visible. All this takes up so much of attention and planning that directing actors to emote becomes difficult. That the director is present in most of the frames himself, either as Arjun or Krishna, compounds the issue. It would seem that many more rehearsals were required to pull off this format with élan. Often, the characters look down, and helter-skelter, instead of maintaining eye-level contact, perhaps groping for forgotten dialogue or identifying their marked positions. The director himself, as an actor, looks down too often, rubs his hands over his bald head, and, as Krishna, jerks his right shoulder, ostensibly to impart a mannerism. In cat-and-mouse games, the odds change rapidly, in favour of one or the other faction. Maybe he was worried that shooting the entire film indoors would give the audience a claustrophobic effect, so he gets all his main characters out on to a highway and even shoots inside a car.

A trained actor, Hemwant Tiwari has potential. He told the press that he cast himself in the lead more because he did not want to chase stars for dates than because he wanted to act. In the hands of more accomplished directors, he could be kept on a leash and perform satisfactorily. Here, he is just about okay. Vineet Kumar, as Yadav, seems the most at ease actor. Old-timer Uday Chandra, as Maulana, turns in a creditable performance, except for the lasts scene, where it looks as if he was given no lines and has tried to improvise, by repeating a few words and then muttering incoherently. Auroshikha Dey, as Kusum, acquits herself well. Sandeep Anand, playing Gopal, hams, in an ill-defined role. As the parents of the twins, Anil Pandey and Shilpa Sabhlok are good. Also featured in the cast are Ravi Sah, Ratna Neelam Pandey (who is also the casting director), Rooe Jalgaonkar and Romi Siddique. The actor playing Siraj, Krishna’s homosexual partner, has an important, ill-defined, but difficult role, which he navigates fairly well. His name is not credited on imdb.

Music, by Ajay Jayanthi and Chaitanya Pandit, is loud, as is the sound level of the dialogue thanks to re-recording mixer Ravi Jasraj, though, mercifully, there are no songs. Cinematography by Tribhuvan Babu Sadineni meets the task about halfway, with numerous jerky movements, some scenes ending up dark and several frames almost invisible.

Not likely to get theatrical release, the experiment might not get the exposure it deserves. Moreover, it is certainly not family viewing, so the Adults only certificate would reduce the audience size significantly. Viewers in the UP-Bihar-Jharkhand-Chhattisgarh belt might get more out of Krishna Arjun than city dwellers.

Rating: ** ½ (the extra ½ is for the experiment and novelty).

Trailer: https://youtu.be/oz_mIGg18Hs

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