Maybe it’s not saying much that Dominic Arun’s Lokah Chapter 1: Chandra is the most progressive pan-India blockbuster I’ve seen. In the competitive aftermath of the Baahubali films, we have seen umpteen stabs by many Indian film industries, where the reverence for Hindu mythology, nationalism, Islamophobia and/or common-place misogyny is dialled up for a big-budget film. It’s a lazy, patronising and dishonest strategy aimed at the layman (arguably with more spending power compared to the average Indian woman). Perhaps, it’s not surprising that a few months ago, another film from the same industry (L2: Empuraan) – a mainstream action film began by depicting the anti-Muslim pogrom in Gujarat, 2002. In the same film, the opposition leaders contesting a state election, are shown to be arrested on instructions of an establishment that seems to play on the Hindu majoritarian sentiment. And thus it was almost poetic, when Enforcement Directorate and Income Tax officials conducted raids in the offices of the producers and director of L2: Empuraan, going on to prove the makers right. Similarly, in Arun’s film, a murder suspect who turns fugitive is quickly labelled a ‘terrorist’ and a UAPA warrant is issued in their name. Here, I found the mention of UAPA a bit jarring, given it’s a gritty detail in a film that is equal parts graphic novel fantasy, folklore, clumsy rom-com and stoner comedy. But I appreciated the consciousness, even if it works only in theory. Arun’s film is an ambitious, earnest and subversive swing in the pantheon of pan-Indian franchises — not fuelled by male bravado, toxic nationalism or the problematic regurgitation of Hindu mythology.It’s a girl! Dominic Arun’s film is shouldered by the mysterious Chandra (Kalyani Priyadarshini) – who is summoned to Bengaluru by ‘the Elder’. Is she a spy? The first thing she does after moving into her new residence, is taping newspapers on all her windows. Much to the disappointment of Sunny (Naslen Gafoor), Chandra’s lovesick neighbour, nursing a heartbreak, and immediately falling for her on the day he moves in.Arun’s film is efficient in the way it sets up the half a dozen of its narrative threads during the first hour: Chandra’s night job at a cafe in MG road, the cold storage packages being delivered to her by acquaintances; Sunny’s early-20s universe which revolves around partying, being smitten by girls, talking about them; stray kidnappings taking place in the city which are a part of an organ trafficking racket; a jilted man harassing a colleague of Chandra’s at the cafe for not reciprocating his feelings, going so far as to threaten her with acid; and last but not the least, our ‘villain’ of the proceedings – a member of the police force, Nachiyappa (Sandy), who acts more like the ‘moral police’. He berates a girl for staying out at night, angrily ‘rejecting’ all marriage proposals from Bengaluru because he considers them to be ‘sl*ts’. It’s refreshing to see the very traits that fuel the anti-heroes of other pan-India blockbusters like Kantara, KGF, Pushpa to be straight-up villainised here. It’s also a nice touch that the Tamil-speaking, Nachiyappa – who looks down on the empowered, cosmopolitan women around him, including his own mother — is shown to be worshipping his late (equally noxious) father, who instilled in him these foundational values, while also drilling into how he’s meant for greatness because he’s born into a particular religion.In an age where it’s almost too easy for makers to give into preaching populist, regressive values – with the cop-out explanation that it’s what the audience wants – it’s interesting to see Arun’s film being mindful and deliberate about what it says. Especially, through the medium of an ambitious fantasy film. There are callbacks to popular tropes like in the Twilight (2008-2014) films here, but I was also reminded of The Old Guard (2020). I liked how the film also has the whimsy of the home-made superhero films like Superbad (2007) and Minnal Murali (2021). The scope of Lokah Chapter 1: Chandra seems significantly larger though.Mild spoiler ahead.A still from ‘Lokah Chapter 1: Chandra’.As is revealed just before the halfway mark, with all indications leading towards it, Chandra is actually a centuries-old vampire. She is part of a larger legion of superhumans, living amongst us, under the tutelage of someone called ‘The Elder’ (voiced by Mammootty). Chandra’s real name is Neeli, a tribal girl in rural Kerala, who was ‘turned’ after being bitten by a bat — while she was fleeing from a King, who was enraged by the tribals entering the royal temple without permission. He kills her parents, only to see them avenged in a memorable interval sequence. Produced by Dulquer Salmaan, I liked how the emphasis of this franchise seems to be more in the lore, than in the VFX. Which is not to say, the film skimps on action either. Stunt director Yannick Ben (of The Family Man, Jawan, Citadel: Honey Bunny fame) choreographs some fluid sequences, but the proceedings remain grounded – as against the zero-gravity, blind ambition of films like Kalki 2898 A.D (2024). There is considerable use of green screen here too, but the stakes remain believable. Just when the film appeared too overwhelmed by its own world in the second hour, we are introduced to Chaathan (the goblin) – a Mysterio-coded Tovino Thomas, having a blast.Lokah Chapter 1: Chandra isn’t a strikingly original film. It’s derived from more than a dozen source materials (including Deadpool, in a fun mid-credit star cameo). Like Danny Boyle’s 28 Years Later, even Lokah ends with a promise of future films, and for a change I was intrigued. In an era, where franchise filmmaking has become the hot-bed of laziness, corporate greed and committee filmmaking at its most agonising, this might be the closest thing to a win for the audience. There will come a time when the ‘pan-India blockbuster’ will draw only revulsion. Not today.*Lokah Chapter 1: Chandra is playing in theatres.