The film doesn’t deliver on its own promise, but it does leave behind the sense that, with more conviction, this story could have been really subversive and beautifully sinister.

Baapu movie review(2 / 5)

There is a powerful idea at the heart of Baapu, written and directed by Daya. The film navigates a morally ambiguous terrain, where desperation forces people into decisions that defy ethical norms. It sets itself up as a biting dark comedy, holding a mirror to the struggles of the farming community, yet ultimately hesitates to embrace its own cynicism. What’s clear in Baapu is a lack of faith in its treatment. What should have been a relentless descent into amorality instead dithers, tangled in sentimental storytelling that blunts its sharpest edges.

Director: Daya

Cast: Brahmaji, Aamani, Dhanya Balakrishna, Sudhakar Reddy, Mani Aegurla

Set in a small Telangana town, Baapu follows Mallanna (Brahmaji), a farmer facing an ultimatum to clear all his debts. The only viable escape from his financial ruin is through the Rythu Bheema insurance payout which, however, poses a threat to his or his elderly father’s (Sudhakar Reddy) life. With no way out, his family is left contemplating the unspeakable. It’s a provocative premise, treading a fine line between black humour and tragedy, one that promises a gripping exploration of necessity and amorality. However, the film doesn’t fully commit to this tension, often slipping into the familiar tropes of melodramatic poverty porn.

The film’s greatest strength lies in its dark comic tone. The early portions work beautifully, drawing humour from the absurdity of the situation while maintaining an undercurrent of despair. There’s an engaging balance between irony and empathy, where the audience simultaneously laughs at the characters’ predicament and recoils from its grim inevitability. But just as it begins to establish its own identity, Baapu retreats into emotional manipulation, throwing in overwrought sentimentality that clashes with its own thesis.

Sudhakar Reddy is undeniably the standout performer. His portrayal of the wily yet vulnerable grandfather is magnetic, though it carries a sense of familiarity, as he played a strikingly similar role in Balagam. The film positions him as its heart, yet never fully explores the transformation his predicament should inspire. It is a missed opportunity because there is something inherently disturbing about a family conspiring against its own patriarch, a theme ripe for a more brutal take. That grey area between desperation and amorality needed a razor-sharp treatment. Instead, Baapu softens its blows.

Brahmaji, as Mallanna, embodies the crushing weight of helplessness with an impressive physicality. While his Telangana dialect falters, his body language compensates, lending depth to a man torn between survival and morality. Aamani, as his wife, complements him well, yet neither performance is allowed the full space to evolve. The film flirts with the idea of transformation—that corruption, once embraced, spreads and takes over your mind—but ultimately resists pushing its characters to their limits. When the interval scene teases a full-blown descent into darkness, you brace yourself for the inevitable plunge. It never comes.

The cinematography by Vasu Pandem is quietly effective, capturing the rhythms of village life with an observational simplicity reminiscent of his work in Pareshan. His lens finds poetry in the mundane, grounding the film’s thematic weight in tangible, everyday images. In contrast, RR Dhruvan’s score struggles to maintain consistency, wavering between sleek, ironic undertones and grand, overwrought emotional cues. The film’s tonal missteps are most evident in its music, where a biting, satirical moment is often undercut by a swelling violin that demands you feel a certain way. The fine transition between both tones is glaringly missing.

Perhaps I found the film’s most exciting metaphor in the grandfather’s repeated outings to defecate. The act, so mundane, becomes a running commentary on transience, illustrating how death arrives with the same inevitability as a bodily function. In a particularly sharp moment, the film equates excretion with fortune, suggesting that, with a little luck, life can turn around just as easily as it crashes. These moments of brilliance made the film’s surrender to sentimentality all the more frustrating.

Ultimately, Baapu is a film that could have been extraordinary had it trusted its own cynicism. Daya constructs a world that is primed for a ruthless, pitch-black satire, but then hesitates, afraid of alienating our audiences with the film’s ambitious surgical grim. The result is a film that engages but never fully satisfies, offering glimpses of brilliance before retreating into safer, more conventional territory.

News Credit: Cinema Express

Rao Ramesh is the showstealer in the latest Trinadha Rao Nakkina directorial that works in parts

Mazaka (2.5 / 5)

Two unmarried men have been living together and sharing a house for years, with no one to answer to, nobody they are accountable to. They dine when they want, have alcohol when they want, and return home when they want. Sounds like a bachelor’s paradise—except it’s not. For some men, contrary to the stereotype, all that matters is having a family. Every farcical story has a genuine sentiment at the heart of it. That’s the charm of some of these comedies—you are laughing at the protagonists, sometimes along with them, but underneath all the chuckles, you want them to overcome their obstacles and just be happy. Trinadha Rao Nakkina’s latest offering Mazaka is one such entertainer that attempts to blend humour and sentiment and manages to pass muster. Just about.

Director: Trinadha Rao Nakkina

Cast: Sundeep Kishn, Rao Ramesh, Ritu Varma, Anshu, Murali Sharma

Krishna (Sundeep Kishn) and Venkat (Rao Ramesh) are a father-son duo who are desperate to have a traditional family, living for years with the stigma of living in ‘a home with no women.’ The two incidentally find the love of their lives at the same time and begin their relentless pursuit to fulfil their idea of a complete family.

The first half takes a little time to bring on the laughs. There are plenty of familiar tropes, interspersed with a few new elements, like the ‘hero’ never resorting to overt brawn display to beat his adversary. Mazaka is also blatant in its attempts to be a crowd-pleaser, in the most templated of manners. The narrative stops for the staple song-and-dance sequences, the last of which truly acts as a speedbreaker, doing more harm than good. Some of the jokes pack a punch, and others don’t. What largely works for the film is that it keeps us considerably invested in the two love stories. The pre-interval segment, especially, springs a handful of surprises, giving a new twist to the central relationships at hand.

The second half of Mazaka is all gags, no plot. Writer Prasanna Kumar Bezawada pushes his luck for far too long in the post-interval portions, as Krishna and Venkat flail through their attempts to convince their partners to let go of their stubborn resolve. While Nizar Shafi’s cinematography is lively, and Leon James delivers a sweet background score, they can only go so far in elevating the narrative. The proceedings only get more exhausting with the flashback trope, as we move back and forth out of the narration to the present timeline that barely adds to the humour (despite a sincere Ajay doing his best to keep up with the broad slapstick material).

Amidst all the tomfoolery, it’s the senior actors who make the most of the opportunity. Murali Sharma, who gets an elaborate introduction scene establishing his wacky character, is at his hammy best, and I mean this in the sincerest manner possible. However, this is undoubtedly a Rao Ramesh show. Playing an old man who is young at heart, Rao Ramesh outshines his co-stars in virtually every scene, nailing the comedic high pitch without going overboard. Sundeep Kishn struggles to match Ramesh’s unhinged energy but shares an endearing chemistry with the Pushpa 2 actor, and the two salvage many mediocre scenes with their timing. Even when the sentimentality lands, it is because of the earnestness on display by both these actors.

Ritu Varma and Anshu are earnest but are saddled with weakly etched characters. Even after introducing the main conflict that centres around Meera (Ritu Varma) and Yashoda (Anshu), the writer serves us with a weak backstory that barely helps us empathise with these two women any better. The film also doesn’t spend enough time establishing how much of a neglected child Krishna (Sundeep Kishn) has been, with never having the privilege to call someone ‘Amma.’ And yet, when the moment arrives where Yashoda gives Krishna the right and responsibilities of a son, it strikes a gentle chord. A similar moment later is salvaged purely on account of Ramesh and Ritu Varma’s performances, where Venky and Meera share a homely moment together. That, in a nutshell, is Mazaka—the humour dwindles, the conflict setup falls apart, but the sentiment lands.

News Credit: Cinema Express

Story:

Nanaji (Balakrishna) is hired to protect a young girl from a wealthy family in Madanapalle Hill Station.

(3 / 5)

Meanwhile, Sitaram (Balakrishna) and his wife (Pragya Jaiswal) work as irrigation engineers in the Madhya Pradesh-Rajasthan region. The region is dominated by the powerful Thakur family, who also run a marble mining business. When the villagers face severe water scarcity, the noble Sitaram transforms into the fierce Maharaaj to stand up for them.

The rest of the story unfolds as an intense clash between Sitaram and the Thakur family.

News Credit: telugu360.com