Mata Koppala

Mata Koppala’s name pops up in some wild corners of Indian cinema, honestly. First up, there’s Dheera Bhagat Roy (2024), which is basically a punch-to-the-gut kind of story. It’s loud, gritty, kind of relentless. The lead character, Bhagat Roy, is just this dude who can’t catch a break—stuck in a mess of corruption, double-crosses, and a city that chews up anyone who tries to play hero. Koppala’s vibe here? Intense. There’s a real heat to the way the film moves, almost like you can smell the sweat and cheap whiskey in every frame. Then, if you rewind a bit, you’ve got Danger Zone (2016). Man, talk about chaos. It’s not your polished, shiny action flick—it’s raw, scattered, sometimes even a little bonkers. A group of friends stumble into a criminal underbelly and get tangled up with people who’d just as soon shoot you as look at you. The pacing is kind of frantic, but that’s half the charm. Koppala takes the sort of rough edges you see in low-budget action and spins it into something that crackles with energy. And Sur sur batthi (2018)—that one’s a trip for totally different reasons. It’s way more introspective, almost dreamy at times. The film follows a character drifting through memories and regrets, kind of haunted by what could’ve been. It’s quieter, but there’s this weird, magnetic pull to it. Koppala’s fingerprints are all over the mood—shadows, music, the way everything feels just a little off-kilter. Altogether, their work is like a rollercoaster you didn’t see coming.