Bhairavi, while embodying the wrath of Lord Shiva, seems heavily inspired by Balakrishna\u2019s aghora act in Akhanda<\/i>. She renounces her family early in life to become an ascetic, is guarded by a snake, defends sacred cows, and even commands a gang of miscreants to sustain themselves on cow urine for livelihood. She chides them with warnings such as khabardaar… khamosh..<\/i>. On the other end, some men discuss sexual assault as revenge, with the gaze on romantic advances of newly wed couples at night, in the guise of portraying the victim\u2019s perspective.\u00a0<\/p>\n

Despite its many flaws, Odela Railway Station <\/i>sustained interest with an air of mystery. Odela 2<\/i> does not score even on that count. Instead, it is fixated on its mythological undertones and crafts bombastic one-liners for its protagonist, unmindful of its outdated script. If you are searching for a silver lining, there is a gender flip \u2014 the saviour is a woman, and the evil spirit is a man.<\/p>\n

Post intermission, the film morphs into a spiritual sermon. Bhairavi seizes every opportunity to chant fresh mantras and deliver long-winded monologues about the greatness of Shiva. When this phase finally dies down, the narrative shifts to Tirupathi\u2019s pompous, repetitive threats of annihilating the village. The final act \u2014 drenched in regressive clich\u00e9s \u2014 could have made an impact had the makers subverted the ever-persistent male gaze.<\/p>\n

The writing is mostly lazy, loud, and overwrought, while the action leaning heavily on gore, laced with uncomfortable, sleazy undertones. Vasishta Simha\u2019s voice lends itself well to a no-holds-barred antagonist, but it is wasted on a flat, one-note character like Tirupathi. It is disheartening to see Tamannaah\u2019s formidable screen presence squandered in a film that misses the mark. Hebah Patel fares no better, saddled with a role that serves little purpose in a film caring solely for its female saviour and male demon.<\/p>\n