Sangeetha Devi Dundoo

For a long time, there has been an overarching image of how Telugu cinema has portrayed the Rayalaseema region, with tales of faction wars and machismo where subtlety is a forgotten trait. Some of these films, blockbusters of the 1990s and 2000s, have become pop culture references. However, a fresh look at this region and its stories was needed. Director Rahul Sankrityan’s Ranabaali, headlined by Vijay Deverakonda and co-starring Rashmika Mandanna, is an attempt in that direction. In this film, too, the leading man is portrayed as a fierce, warrior-like figure. The difference lies in its history-inspired setting, with a mix of folklore. The result is an interesting concoction. Some portions genuinely pique interest in the history and folk tradition of Rayalaseema, while others struggle to rise above the done-to-death mainstream cinema framework.

Storylines exploring the nexus between illegal gambling dens and crime networks have been overdone in Indian cinema. Within the heist-action genre, it is rare to find something that feels new. The title of Sundeep Kishan and Faria Abdullah’s Tamil film, Sigma, alludes to the Gen Z idea of a “cool quotient” and an underdog protagonist navigating chaos. The film has been in the news because it marks the directorial debut of Jason Sanjay, son of Tamil actor and Chief Minister Vijay. Like Aryan Khan, Jason has chosen to work behind the camera rather than in front of it for his debut.

Don’t Trouble The Trouble, written and directed by Shashank Yeleti, marks Fahadh Faasil’s first Telugu film as a solo lead. The film is an example of what it could have been versus what it actually is. Aiming to appeal to children and the childlike in adults, it makes for an easy watch without violence or gore. Some genuinely funny moments had children and adults in the hall cheering, but the narrative also has stretches that offer little excitement. The three principal actors — Fahadh Faasil, child actor Ssara Palekar and the adorable beagle Snoopy — are fantastic. Shashank has some fun ideas, from Aladdin and his magic lamp to an invisible character seen only by two characters and spells that should appeal to Potterheads. But not all of these ideas translate into an immersive experience.

The Paradise begins by paying tribute to some of the Indian cinema legends we have lost in recent times. It also remembers revolutionary Telangana poet Gummadi Vittal Rao, better known as Gaddar. It is director Srikanth Odela’s way of tipping his hat to his Telangana roots and the region’s textured history. In his debut, Dasara, also starring Nani, Srikanth explored caste hierarchies around Telangana’s coal mines during the era of prohibition, weaving a tale of friendship, loss and revenge. It wasn’t a perfect film, but it established its emotional conflicts well.

Epic – First Semester arrives with expectations, largely because of director Aditya Haasan and the reunion of Baby leads Anand Deverakonda and Vaishnavi Chaitanya. While this is Aditya’s feature directorial debut, the runaway success of his nostalgia-soaked web series 90s’: A Middle Class Biopic and his first production, Little Hearts, a breezy rom-com, has already established him as a promising new voice in Telugu cinema. With Epic, Aditya takes a leap of faith, holding back from pandering to familiar mainstream tropes. The tagline, ‘an unfinished story’, and the words ‘point of view’ following the director’s credit suggest an intent to push the boundaries of the coming-of-age story.

In the final portions of Romanchakam, written and directed by Venu Gopal Reddy, the comedy of errors is in full swing. The narrative wants us to root for the lead pair, Anvesh (Sumanth Prabhas) and Mythili (Ananthika Sanilkumar). However, what lands better is the commotion created by Anvesh’s friends as they try to salvage the situation. Despite being consistently silly and overly talkative, their bond feels more convincing than the romance at the centre of the story. For a love story to work, the female protagonist needs to be well written. Perhaps in an attempt to keep the narrative breezy and humorous, the writing holds back from establishing who Mythili is. We know little about her background, aspirations or what stands in the way of her getting what she wants. A passing scene hints at differences between her and her parents, but the idea is not explored further. There are also sporadic references to suicide, but these remain vague and are never treated with much sincerity. At one point, an incident involving a suicide attempt is even played for humour. This imbalance between comedy and emotional depth makes it difficult to fully invest in the love story.

At the first sign of abuse, a character in the Telugu film Irumudi asks his daughter not to blow it up into a big issue. She wants to raise a complaint, but he states that fear is the best safety armour for a girl child. Another character empowers his daughter to be transparent and share all the happenings at school and the village without fear. These contrasting approaches of two fathers become the film’s biggest takeaway. The other significant takeaway is how Irumudi marks the return of Shiva Nirvana and Ravi Teja to form after a few middling films.

Some stories appear simple to begin with but gradually unravel layers of emotional turmoil. What could have been settled over a conversation ends up becoming a full-blown feud. Brittle egos and the lack of communication are probably among the most common aspects of dysfunctional families. Director Uday Chauhan, who has also written the Telugu film Pallaburusu (toothbrush), set in a fictional Telangana village, explores a universal story and hopes viewers will reflect on it long after they have had a few hearty laughs or turned teary-eyed in the cinema hall.