Navigating the Best and Worst in Telugu Cinema in 2023: An Appraisal of Exceptional Films and Letdowns
In a year marked by diverse cinematic offerings, singling out the best films proves to be subjective, given the array of almost-there contenders. Telugu cinema in 2023 witnessed a convergence of various strands, complicating any simplistic analysis—indie dramas rooted in rural Telangana gained recognition with Balagam and Pareshan, mass films ventured into experimental forms with Salaar: Part 1 – Ceasefire and Dasara, and even prominent star vehicles like Bhagwant Kesari and Waltair Veerayya found themselves compelled to humanize the hero to stay relevant within the genre.
Notably, the resurgence of romance emerged as a captivating aspect. The success of films such as Sita Ramam in the previous year and Hi Nanna in the current one suggests a renewed interest in a genre that transcends male-centric fantasies and anxieties, long dominant in popular Telugu cinema. Miss Shetty Mister Polishetty garnered attention for its focus on an independent woman defying patriarchal constraints. Anni Manchi Sakunamule, directed by Nandini Reddy, featured a female protagonist addressing her family’s financial challenges. Furthermore, 2023 witnessed the debut of a female filmmaker, Puja Kolluru, with Martin Luther King, a remake of the Tamil film Mandela (2021).
These films represented a departure from a foundational assumption in mainstream Telugu cinema—that the default viewer is male. However, the year also saw instances like the film Baby triggering misogynistic reactions in theaters. The following selection is drawn from what can generously be termed a mixed bag of cinematic offerings in 2023.
The Best Telugu Films of 2023
Month of Madhu
My standout film edit of the year resides in “Month of Madhu,” where a poignant hard cut unfolds a profound narrative moment. We witness a teenage Lekha (Swathi Reddy) perched on the kitchen ledge, engaging in playful banter with her mother as she prepares a meal—her teenage exuberance, rooted in her secret love for the spirited Madhusudhan, is both endearing and irksome in that unique way only teenagers can be. The cut abruptly transitions to a scene two decades later, portraying an older Lekha caring for her now speechless and aged mother. This seasoned Lekha appears fatigued; her marriage to Madhusudhan has crumbled under the weight of his abusive tendencies, and the promises of youth have given way to the harsh realities of life. The film, though not flawless, masterfully captures the erosion of time and its impact on the human spirit, using the recurrent visual motif of the sea to symbolize the relentless passage of time. It skillfully portrays how the wide-eyed wonder and naivety of youth don’t always find fulfillment in the unpredictable journey of life.
Balagam
The word balagam translates to “kith and kin”, and its phonological similarity to balam (strength) is a hint at what the film is really about. What made Balagam the biggest indie success in Telugu cinema this year, apart from Priyadarshi Pullikonda’s fantastic turn in the lead role, is its cultural specificity. Telangana films have emerged as a force to reckon with after the bifurcation, and Balagam is emblematic of this movement—it is a comedy-drama in which both the comedic and dramatic registers are articulated through the cultural particulars of rural Telangana. The film is about how Sailu (Priyadarshi) and his family deal with the consequences of his grandfather’s passing. The ceremonies involved in the funeral of the patriarch constitute the spine of the film—folk ballads sung as part of these give voice to the emotional currents of the film, and the writer-director of the film, Venu Yeldandi gives one of the best comic performances of the year as a guilt-stricken tailor.
Dasara
Nani-starrer Dasara draws much of its power from the cultural specifics of Godavarikhani and the coal mines of Singareni, and yet, unlike Balagam, this is a mass film—albeit an unusual one for Telugu cinema. For one, its politics seems to resemble that of Pa. Ranjith and Sukumar’s recent work. And then there is the visual finesse on display in so many memorable sequences—the riveting, bloody, pre-intermission sequence, the visually sumptuous “Ori Vaari” in which the night sky is illuminated by dancing shafts of light from miner’s helmets, the action spectacle of the eponymous Dasara festival in its finale. There is also Santhosh Narayan’s fabulous soundtrack. You get the feeling that the film is pulling its punches politically towards the end, and it doesn’t all work as well as it should. But this is still the most striking mass film of the year, and a debut Srikanth Odela should be proud of.
Hi Nanna
The term “melodrama” has acquired a negative connotation in recent decades, despite many of the most compelling stories in human history—such as Oedipus Rex, Sati Savitri, Heer Ranjha, and Laila Majnun—operating within this narrative style. Popular Indian cinema, in particular, has excelled in melodrama, with one of its finest proponents being Mani Ratnam. “Hi Nanna” can be seen as a homage to Mani Ratnam’s work, incorporating elements from films like Geethanjali, Anjali, and Kannathil Muthamittal. However, unlike this year’s “Kushi,” it captures the spirit of these films rather than awkwardly referencing them explicitly.
The heart of the narrative revolves around a captivating romance, exploring the theme of parenthood. The film’s charm is so compelling that it prompts forgiveness for some of its more contrived moments and the somewhat ambiguous characterization of its heroine. “Hi Nanna” successfully draws on the melodramatic tradition while embodying the spirit of Mani Ratnam’s cinematic legacy, making it a noteworthy addition to the genre.Keedaa Cola
Tharun Bhaskar has a gift for dialogue that is comparable perhaps only to Trivikram Srinivas and Jandhyala. At his best, he manages to marry this to a fabulous cinematic verve: watch how he frames a negotiation in this year’s crime-comedy Keedaa Cola like a standoff in a Sergio Leone western, and how he doffs his hat to Edgar Wright and Guy Ritchie with a precise use of slow motion, lensing, and montages. Keedaa Cola eventually runs out of steam and shrivels into farce—it never becomes something more than the sum of its parts, but it is still a rarity thanks to the director’s unique sensibilities, his ability to tap into the grammar of several genres, and also to Vivek Sagar’s (who is surely emerging as one of the best in the country at what he does) score. That the best performance in this film comes from the director in a starring role shouldn’t really come as a surprise, but it’s his signature behind the camera that distinguishes Keedaa Cola from so many of the films that came out this year.
The Biggest Telugu Letdowns of 2023
Rather than list the worst films of the year, I thought that it would be more instructive to look at the ones that had promise—the disappointments, rather than the ones that didn’t even try (think Bholaa Shankar, Veera Simha Reddy, Skanda).
Kushi
Shiva Nirvana’s “Kushi” opens strongly, with Vijay Deverakonda portraying a naive goofball reminiscent of his role in “Pelli Choopulu.” His impeccable comic timing, particularly as a Telugu man attempting to speak Hindi while wooing Samantha, adds charm to the initial scenes. However, as the plot unfolds, the film takes a frustrating turn, evolving into a melodramatic narrative where Vijay’s atheistic, commie-coded family clashes with Samantha’s religious one.
Despite referencing pertinent TV personalities and debates, “Kushi” misses the opportunity to genuinely explore the political dimensions of its subject matter. Unlike the successful engagement with politics seen in “Ante Sundaraniki” the previous year, the film reduces its ideological characters to bickering children, lacking compelling dramatic conflict. One of its major shortcomings is the failure to provide any depth or individuality to its female lead. Moreover, a crucial plot point involving pregnancy and miscarriage is handled with astounding ignorance.
Despite referencing almost the entirety of Mani Ratnam’s filmography, including a song with lyrics like “naa Roja nuvve, na Dil Se nuvve,” the film lacks a profound understanding of what makes his films resonate. “Kushi” starts promisingly but ultimately falls short in delivering a nuanced exploration of its themes, leaving much to be desired in terms of character development and narrative depth.
Baby
It appears from Sai Rajesh’s statements that “Baby” was intended to be a tragic exploration of errors, depicting the complexities of three individuals entangled in a love triangle. However, the film’s conclusion, with Anand Devarakonda expressing a desire for women like Vaishnavi Chaitanya to come with a warning sign from God while she seeks forgiveness, raises questions about its underlying message. The closing shot, featuring a quote on the male lead’s autorickshaw translating to “It is better to burn at the funeral pyre than to be crushed by a woman,” adds further ambiguity.
The film portrays the young female lead making seemingly illogical decisions, which the narrative attributes to immaturity. It juxtaposes her activities like going to pubs, dating, and being coerced into sex against the perceived innocence and suffering of the male partner, framing her coming-of-age journey as a descent into moral corruption.
While filmmakers may not always be directly responsible for audience reactions, especially when rooted in misinterpretations, there remains a crucial question about what “Baby” does to counteract potentially harmful readings. The film’s success raises concerns about the impact it might have on reinforcing misogynistic views, as evidenced by negative reactions from male audiences in theaters across the Telugu states circulating on social media post-release. This prompts reflection on the direction Telugu cinema may be heading with such portrayals and their implications for the industry.
Bro
Pawan Kalyan isn’t the problem in Bro (he plays a personification of Time!), Samuthirakani’s remake of his 2021 Tamil supernatural comedy-drama Vinodhaya Sitham. If you get his appeal—his unconventional, malleable performance of hero-masculinity—the parts where the film stops its plot to pay homage to him shouldn’t really bother you. But then you remember that this is a film written by Trivikram Srinivas—and a high-concept film written by him starring Pawan Kalyan has no excuse to be this lazy. This a film that frequently seems uninterested in a plot that it goes to great lengths to set up. Very few of the jokes land, and much of the film floats by as you progressively lower your standards. Bro is another star vehicle that relies on its references to other, better films of the star it is busy worshipping. What will it take to get one of those instead?
Shaakuntalam
Samantha Ruth Prabhu shines as a true star, yet even her brilliance cannot salvage this mythological epic. Shaakuntalam presented an opportunity to showcase a female-led narrative with a captivating romance at its core, a departure from the hypermasculine violence often seen in such tales. Helmed by Gunasekhar, the creative mind behind the iconic Okkadu, known for its gentle romance against the backdrop of the Charminar, Shaakunthalam fails to capture the essence of an epic or a romance.
In the midst of passion, the hero expresses his love to the heroine in a way that reflects archaic gender politics, adding a jarring element to the narrative. However, the film’s downfall is not solely attributed to outdated ideologies, subpar acting, or the lackluster attempts at Disney-esque CGI. Rather, it is the absence of a coherent artistic vision that could have transformed the cinematic raw materials into a compelling masterpiece. Shaakunthalam feels more like attending a housewarming ceremony only to discover a pile of bricks and a barrel of cement instead of a finished home.
Tiger Nageshwar Rao
Tiger Nageshwar Rao delves into a significant chapter of Andhra Pradesh’s history, shedding light on the marginalized communities of Stuartpuram whose identity faced criminalization during the British Raj. However, the film takes a questionable approach by initially succumbing to stereotypes of “tribal” people in the first half, with the hero exhibiting lecherous and misogynistic behavior. The narrative later attempts to subvert these stereotypes in the second half.
While the film incorporates political platitudes, it struggles to translate them into strong convictions, navigating an awkward balance reminiscent of both KGF and Pushpa. Despite commendable production design and Ravi Teja’s commendable performance, the film falls short of its potential. It isn’t the worst masala film of the year, but given the promising subject matter and evident production effort, it leaves a sense of unfulfilled potential.
