Many thoughts on
#LokahChapter1Chandra:
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How well Lokah does transitions. A fridge door closing gracefully leads to another moment. A group of lights turn into ice cubes in a glass. And of course, right at the beginning, an absolutely cool Kalyani Priyadarshan leaps out of a building as the visuals blend into stylised comic-book action. I think I was sold on Lokah as early as this. The common assumption is that we yearn for incredible action and epic storytelling, but me? I’m perfectly happy with these tasteful cinematic touches. Of course, it helps when the film still opens with missiles raining down in a war sequence, giving the film the feel of a dystopian, big-budget international project.
Oh, and I said Kalyani Priyadarshan looks cool, didn't I? That’s an understatement. She’s an otherworldly, cyberpunk, avenging angel you can hardly take your eyes off. The hood that partly conceals her face (and her identity), the neon streaks in her hair, the intimidating quiet… she’s strong, feminine, heroic. Naslen, then, is the perfect foil: wide-eyed innocence that contrasts her brutality, humanity that contrasts her immortality.
Lokah builds mood beautifully. Urban roads in the night, neon street signs… even insignificant characters make an impact. That guy lounging in Sunny’s apartment. That boy who calls Sunny ‘uncle’. They all combine to make this world feel real, even as 'unreal' events unfold. I think this is why the best Marvel films work. In lives we cannot relate to, we see qualities we can relate to. Within Chandra, we see isolation, we see the quiet yearning for connection. Within Sunny, we see innocence and goodness. Within Sandy, we see the corruption of power and ego.
There’s a shot of bats swirling around little Chandra in a cave, a homage, I'd think, to Batman Begins. It's an art to do homages without losing your identity. Though neon-lit city streets evoke Western noir sensibilities, the film itself never feels like an imitation. Lokah balances beautifully by drawing from our folklore. A vampire may feel alien, but a yakshi doesn’t. The film also leans on science, weaving in mutations caused by viruses. Yes, echoes of X-Men emerge as we meet others with unique superpowers—but even here, the film reminds us that Chandra isn't a vampire; she's Neeli, Tovino isn't a sorcerer; he's chathan.
My favourite parts of the film are the interpersonal ones, those intimate moments where Chandra is finding her way in the new city, where the film feels less like a grand superhero epic and more like a character-driven mystery. Who is Chandra? Why is she buying blood? How is her hand unaffected by acid (a great scene, by the way)? What’s with that chilling daytime voice? How does she leap across heights and run so fast (the VFX is really good)? I loved these portions, and the humour too, like Sunny fainting again and again.
I do think Lokah lost me a bit when it sacrificed Chandra a bit in favour of cameo-driven pleasures (the Tovino action set-pieces are gorgeous, no doubt) and for world-expansion. That promise of intimacy moved to make way for something far bigger, and the joys suddenly weren’t as deep for me. The thrill of launching a new world is understandable, but I’d advise caution. As this film itself is about viruses, there’s a lesson right there: viruses can either choose potency or virality. If you spread yourself thin, you lose potency... and that’s why the common cold isn't as powerful.
So yes, I’d love for the Lokah universe to take it easy, to resist quick expansion. Let the epic clashes wait. Let them be the dessert, not the main course. Another origin story, perhaps? Because Lokah’s beauty, for me, is in how it plays out like an intimate procedural more than a fantasy film about vampires. Ultimately, it isn’t the epic action I remember, but that haunting image of Chandra roaming this city, a frightening shadow guarding its citizens.