Sangeetha Devi Dundoo

At the end of Maa Inti Bangaaram (MIB), I kept thinking about what it could have been had the team gone all out with its blend of action entertainer and family drama. Telugu cinema rarely presents a sari-clad female protagonist who can deliver punches powerful enough to send shivers down the spines of thugs. That role belongs to actor-producer Samantha Ruth Prabhu, who once again makes her action sequences convincing. The audience cheers during the high moments; that kind of stardom is earned over time. Samantha’s third outing with director Nandini Reddy, co-produced by Raj Nidimoru, has plenty going for it. Parts of the film are genuinely enjoyable, blending humour, subtle social commentary and action. It remains immensely watchable but falls well short of being a standout.

At a time when Telugu cinema seems trapped in the pursuit of pan-Indian ambitions, with big-budget productions often resting on weakly written stories, Sing Geetham is a refreshing departure. Directed by 94-year-old filmmaker Singeetham Srinivasa Rao, it serves as a timely reminder that the industry can still take leaps of faith and offer audiences something new. The story reflects on the futility of human greed while reinforcing the need to live in harmony with Nature. Its musical fantasy-drama format springs from childlike innocence and an audacity to defy stale box-office formulas. Bringing wings to Rao’s 40-year-old dream project is a talented cast and crew, with music composer Devi Sri Prasad serving as the film’s backbone.

Pudathama enti malli? (Will we be born again?), Ram Charan’s character Peddi asks at several points in his new Telugu film directed by Buchi Babu Sana. More statement than question, the line underscores the protagonist’s belief that life comes only once, and his determination to stop at nothing to achieve his goal. Buchi Babu frames Peddi’s fight for his own identity and that of his village like a sports biopic, powered by Ram Charan’s performance, A.R. Rahman’s music and R. Rathnavelu’s evocative visuals. The 189-minute film travels back to the 1990s. When a member of the Indian Olympics Association, played by Boman Irani, witnesses an extraordinary spectacle in and around Vizianagaram, Andhra Pradesh, he is drawn into Peddi’s story. At its core, the film is centred on the struggles of sugarcane field labourers in the region. Yet, its storytelling borrows liberally from sports dramas across languages, evoking everything from Sarpatta Parambarai to Chandu Champion and Bhaag Milkha Bhaag.

A character in Gaayapadda Simham (Wounded Lion) quips that police officers are holding a “success meet,” much like film teams that celebrate barely a day after a theatrical release. The officer shoots back, asking why such celebrations should be limited to reel heroes when real-life ones have more reason to revel. In moments like these, when the writing pokes fun at the Telugu film industry, debut director Kasyap Sreenivas’s film, starring Tharun Bhascker and Faria Abdullah, finds its comic edge. The premise is deliberately outrageous. Darahas (Tharun), content with his middle-class life, is told he must move to the US if he hopes to marry his girlfriend (Maanasa Choudhary). When shifting immigration laws derail his plans and he is deported, his response is extreme — he seeks revenge on Donald Trump.

We live in an era of constant connectivity, where the smartphone feels like an extension of our arm. In moments of overload, we romanticise the idea of a digital detox, of returning to a time when television and video cassettes were a luxury. Those were the days. Or were they? There was a time when owning a television signalled status and power, and viewing, too, could become addictive. First-time director V. Muniraju’s Telugu film Thimmarajupalli TV revisits this moment, exploring television as an inflection point in a village in Andhra Pradesh, wrapped in a layer of nostalgia.

Dacoit: A Love Story keeps its biggest surprises under wraps, even as its team amped up pre-release promotions. Directed by Shaneil Deo and led by Adivi Sesh and Mrunal Thakur, the Telugu-Hindi bilingual is, at its heart, an emotional love story with an Indian ethos, told through a Western lens. The emphasis on “at its heart” is deliberate — embedded within is a distinctly old-school romance that nods to cinematic tropes of the past, hoping to resonate with a swipe-era audience. For that to land, the writing of both characters and subplots needs to hold. Sesh and Shaneil, who share screenplay credits, pack the film with layered, often complex characters. Threads of possible deceit and double-crossing keep the narrative engaging at key moments. While a few characters verge on being one-note, the complexity of the central figures ultimately works in the film’s favour.

There are times when a filmmaker chooses to not reinvent the wheel or the story, to be precise. But a new setting lets it breathe. The broad contours of the storyline, sub plots and character arcs in director Abhilash Reddy’s Telugu sports drama, Biker are familiar. Motocross, a sport that has rarely or perhaps never been explored in Indian cinema, gives it a new sheen. The cutting-edge audio-visual landscape and worthwhile performances make it fairly engaging.

In 2012, when director Harish Shankar teamed up with Pawan Kalyan for Gabbar Singh, an adaptation of Dabangg, it resulted in a massy outing that capitalised on the star’s nonchalant attitude. The film entertained, even if it did not break new ground in storytelling. A lot has changed since then and the star is now the deputy chief minister of Andhra Pradesh. In Ustaad Bhagat Singh, the director rehashes the outdated template of Gabbar Singh, and infuses it with a heavy dose of ideology that powers the actor-politician today. The result is a narrative that appears to be randomly stitched together to tick a few boxes on a checklist.