The strength of this seemingly highbrow film called Rushi lies in intermingling emotions, romance, sentiment and debate in the right proportions. Director Raj Madiraju shows a characteristic canniness when he starts augmenting the proceedings with his convictions. Consequently, his film easily crosses into a zone where the humanity it tries to argue for lends it that distinct "human story" quality. The flavour of Rushi, on the face of it, is multiplex, but nobody who watches the second half will not want to appreciate its universal essence and intelligent touch. This makes Ramesh Prasad's production a worthy watch for audience of all the ages.
It might take a while for you to get involved in the story, thanks to the ordinary romantic track in the first half, but when the actual story begins a good 25-30 minutes before the interval, the film holds your interest till the end. Thankfully, the screenplay, the dialogues, the performances, the music - to name the most important assets - are all good when the film takes on the nature of a human drama. The director keeps the film from slipping into melodrama mode, and this works best for the flick. It is the humanity of the lead character, and the moral support the characters around him give him at a cataclysmic moment in his life, not to forget the emotional turmoil many a player undergoes, that make Rushi a film to watch out for.
As the film begins, we are told by a journalist who is interested in the life of Dr. Rushi, that the good doctor is a hero in our midst. In his attempt to live by his creed, Rushi has knocked the doors of justice. Who is he? What is he up to? Arvind Krishna (Rushi) walks the talk with the journo and starts telling his story, which dates back to the day when he bumped into Pooja (Supriya Shailaja) at the medical college. As a fresher, he used to pay the price for his honesty. As a medico in his first year he tells that he is there to become a doctor and make money. Of course, the way his character matures in the course of the film will make you clap for him.
Pooja is your mediocre medico, who, even though she is in the fourth year, trembles at the thought of having to treat the patient. Rushi, as someone who loves and cares for her, wants to see her become an efficient hand.
As destiny would have it, Rushi and his medico friends happen to save a child (Master Gaurav as Karthik), who is gasping for breath during a bus journey. Left without an option, Rushi renders him treatment that night by admitting him in the medical college. Since a medical student is not qualified to do treat a patient, Laxmipathy (Suresh makes a comeback as an egoistic faculty-doctor) takes objection to it and asks him to prove his worth for taking up the child's sensitive case before a panel of 20 experts. Rushi incessantly studies Karthik's case and concludes that the child needs a heart transplantation, if not he will die.
The film has in store an interesting twist at this juncture. The clock is ticking not just for Karthik, but also for Rushi. At this point, Rushi takes a brave decision that puts him at the forefront of a raging debate, and that causes him and his lover emotional catastrophe. The director vets this part of the film with ingenuity. The bond Karthik, Rushi and Pooja come to share, the eternal love between Rushi and Pooja, the way the lecherous Suresh metamorphoses in the climax, the comedy scenes (read 'medicos disease', 'baby crush',), etc., all are well-dealt. The dialogues are crisp and touching at once. There are no lengthy lectures and everyone makes their point without mouthing cliched dialogues. Since the director consciously tried to avoid melodrama and heavy dose sentimentality, the lines are mellowed.
Arvind Krishna has definitely become mature since his last film. His diction suits his character for the simple reason because it sounds mature and serious. However, his hair stylist did a bad job in experimenting with his hair in the first half. As of the heroine, her girl-next-door look suits the film's needs, and her performances picks up in half two.
Snigdha and Don-Chandran give an appropriate musical output in the second half, though one or two songs in the first half sounded unmixable with the pace. Editing is, again, impressive.
All in all, Rushi's strength lies in its unique treatment and the novelty of the subject.
