'They Call Him OG' Review: Pawan Kalyan Returns with Silent Ferocity and Cinematic Poetry

Pawan Kalyan’s Haunting Presence

The character of Ojas Gambheera is not designed for showy theatrics but for layers of quiet menace. Pawan Kalyan communicates volumes without words. His performance thrives on minimalism, where pauses and expressions do more than dialogue could. The deliberate calm in his movement suggests a storm beneath, and his physicality with the sword is both precise and graceful. The duality of ruthlessness and humanity makes his interpretation striking.

Sujeeth's Direction with Clarity

Sujeeth, after the excess of Saaho, approaches this film with sharpness and restraint. His focus here is atmosphere and character, not just spectacle. The narrative thrives on spaces between words. He crafts Ojas as a figure of myth yet grounds him enough to avoid indulgence. There are nods for fans, but they are organic, woven into the story instead of appearing as distractions.

A City Painted in Shadows

The world of OG is meticulously built. Cinematographer Ravi K Chandran captures 1980s Mumbai in a palette of muted tones, dim lights, and reflective surfaces. The alleys drenched in rain, the vintage cars gliding through wet streets, and the wide frames during fight sequences create a visual rhythm that feels almost lyrical. The aesthetic leans toward the graphic novel, drawing viewers into an urban underworld that is both grim and beautiful.

A Villain With Restraint

Emraan Hashmi enters Telugu cinema as Omi, and his presence is quietly menacing. Instead of leaning on loud gestures, he crafts his villain through economy of expression. His voice stays measured, his stare lingers, and together they build unease. The collision between Ojas and Omi is not one of volume but of gravity and cunning. Their face-offs elevate the narrative into a battle of two distinct philosophies, making every encounter charged.

Music that Commands

S Thaman’s background score does not merely accompany the film but drives its pulse. Pieces like Firestorm and Guns and Roses trigger thunderous reactions in theaters. More than a musical layer, the score functions like a narrative heartbeat, rising and falling with the arcs of the characters. It is one of Thaman’s most effective works in recent years, adding urgency and emotional thrust to the visuals.

Technical Precision

Navin Nooli’s editing allows the story to maintain flow without losing tension. Scenes are cut in a way that gives space when needed and sharpens the pace when action rises. Production design by A S Prakash extends the cinematic feel into every corner of the frame, from cramped safe houses to expansive cityscapes. The fight choreography deserves special mention, not for sheer volume but for clarity and intent. The violence feels designed, almost like visual poetry, each sequence with its own rhythm and identity.

A Stylized Character Study

At its core, They Call Him OG is not only an action film but a meditation on a man shaped by violence and honor. Ojas Gambheera is as much a symbol as he is a person, and the film respects that balance. Sujeeth’s treatment is neither indulgent nor shallow. It is sharp, measured, and confident in tone.

The Verdict

They Call Him OG stands out as one of the strongest showcases of Pawan Kalyan’s abilities in recent memory. It is a film built on silence, presence, and atmosphere, rather than noise and overindulgence. Sujeeth finds his voice here, creating a focused work of style and depth.

Emraan Hashmi delivers an antagonist worthy of the protagonist’s stature, and Thaman’s music becomes the blood pumping through the story. For admirers of gangster epics and for anyone waiting to see Pawan Kalyan at his most intense, this film is not just a viewing but an experience.