Sangeetha Devi Dundoo

Paradha is a refreshing breather in a largely machismo-driven Telugu cinema. Imagine three women, hailing from different backgrounds, on a road trip to find a solution to a crisis that one of them is caught up in. Director Praveen Kandregula’s film starring Anupama Parameswaran, Darshana Rajendran and Sangitha Krish, brims with warmth, joy, laughter, and tears. The journey gives these women a much-needed getaway from their daily grind. As they soak in the vastness of the landscapes, they question their own understanding of the world and gender equations. Despite the heavy folklore that acts as a fulcrum to the narrative, considerable portions are handled with a lightness that makes it enjoyable.

Life in rural Telangana is often portrayed in Telugu cinema as laidback and unpretentious, with its residents adding quiet character to the setting. Mothevari Love Story, now streaming on ZEE5, draws from this familiar image to tell a gentle tale of romance, sibling friction, and family ties. The series stars Anil Geela, best known for My Village Showon YouTube, in a role that nudges viewers to reflect on familial bonds. Set in Lambadipalli village, the story centres on brothers Sattaiah (Muralidhar Goud) and Narsing Yadav (RS Nandha), nicknamed Ram and Lakshman for their close bond and reputation for settling disputes at the local panchayat. But beneath the harmony, the series hints at tensions: of ego, inheritance, and simmering rivalry.

Sony LIV’s new Telugu web series, Mayasabha, opens with a familiar disclaimer: any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental. Yet it does not take long to draw parallels between its characters and the political giants who shaped undivided Andhra Pradesh. Echoes of NT Rama Rao, the actor-turned-leader; YS Rajasekhara Reddy, the doctor-turned-politician; and the current chief minister, N Chandrababu Naidu, and several others ripple throughout the storyline. Titled Rise of the Titans, the show’s first season is a sharp and dramatic commentary on the socio-political fabric of the State. Ambitious in scope and often gripping in execution, the series draws viewers into a world of power struggles, shifting loyalties and behind-the-scenes drama.

In an early scene in the Telugu film Kingdom, Soori (Vijay Deverakonda) slaps a police officer. What follows reveals the reason for his outburst layered with purpose and tact. Writer-director Gowtam Tinnanuri is not merely positioning his lead as an archetypal angry young man with swagger. While the moment might initially cater to Vijay’s ‘rowdy’ persona, the screenplay slowly peels back the layers, giving Soori’s rage emotional resonance and narrative weight. Emotional depth in storytelling is Gowtam’s calling card, evident in his earlier films Malli Raava and Jersey. It is this very quality that anchors Kingdom, keeping it from slipping into yet another larger-than-life action fantasy built for box office glory. On the surface, Kingdom might invite comparisons to KGF,Devara, or other films— with familiar tropes like gold smuggling, a forgotten island, and an oppressed people in need of a saviour. But beneath the dust and dynamite lies a story that is more emotionally driven, and steeped in moral reckoning.

Hari Hara Veera Mallu – Part 1: Sword Vs Spirit, with the tagline ‘battle for dharma’, was in the making for over five years. The delay was partly due to the pandemic, and later, the lead actor Pawan Kalyan taking on his role as Deputy Chief Minister of Andhra Pradesh. The film, originally directed by Krish Jagarlamudi, changed hands midway, with A M Jyothi Krishna stepping in to see it through. The shift is visible on screen. This period drama, blending fact and fiction, often loses its way and feels stretched. Pawan Kalyan plays Veera Mallu, a rebel who steals from the rich and helps the poor. The film takes creative liberties to build a fictional story, leaning into the actor’s public image and his alignment with sanatana dharma.

It is a scenario straight out of the wildest dreams, or nightmares. An entire village, dressed in festive finery, gathers around a specially constructed stage. There is anticipation in the air, a celebratory mood. But the master of ceremonies (Vishnu Oi), a man summoned from a neighbouring town, is left stunned when he learns the purpose of the event: a lucky draw to determine who will win slots in the village burial ground, now perilously close to running out of space. Director Ani IV Sasi, who previously helmed the offbeat Telugu romance Ninnila Ninnila, returns with Uppu Kapurambu — a madcap satire that takes on the politics of death, land, and legacy. Screenwriter Vasanth Maringanti weaves in layered subtexts touching upon gender, caste, money, and power, exposing the absurdity of fighting over land meant for one’s final rest.

There is a fine line between inventive and outright bizarre. On paper, Thammudu might have seemed like a gripping watch —blending complex family dynamics, childhood friendship, and a good-versus-evil survival thriller. But in execution, it is more of an endurance test than an immersive film. Written and directed by Venu Sriram, starring Nithiin, Varsha Bollamma, Sapthami Gowda and Laya, the film tries to juggle too much, and drops most of it. Nithiin plays Jai, an archer chasing gold at the world championship. His struggle, we are told, is not about fitness or skill, it is emotional baggage. He confides in childhood friend Chitra (Varsha) about his broken bond with his sister (Laya) and the regret that has been weighing him down. Chitra, meanwhile, is apparently a successful entrepreneur who wins ‘Start-up of the Year’. What does her company do? The film does not tell us. On stage, she announces her love for Jai, tearfully calling him “more than just a boyfriend.” Logic takes a backseat, and so does character depth.

At one point, well into the second hour of the Telugu film Kannappa, Prabhas appears on screen as the deity Rudra. His extended cameo includes lines that cheekily nod to his larger-than-life image — one even references the endless speculation around his bachelorhood. These ‘meta’ touches serve as deliberate fan service, injecting energy into an otherwise uneven narrative. It is a shame, because Kannappa, led by Vishnu Manchu, sets out with the earnest ambition of reintroducing the devotional legend to a contemporary audience. Rooted in folklore, the story follows Thinna, an atheist hunter believed to be a reincarnation of Arjuna, who transforms into a devout follower of Lord Shiva. In a final act of faith, he offers his own eyes to the deity, earning the name Kannappa.