CE Year in Review 2024: How Telugu Cinema reimagined the mother figure

There has been much discourse about how the films driving masses to the audience are increasingly male-centric. And yet, amidst the big-scale successes like Pushpa 2: The Rule, Hanu-Man and Devara, it is fascinating to see how some of the other most talked-about Telugu films of the year have female protagonists, more specifically mother figures. When the protagonists become the saviours of their world, they also emerge as family heads. Where does that leave the literal father and mother figures then? In many varying and interesting places, as we realised this year. 

In Lucky Baskhar, Dulquer Salmaan played a middle-class banking professional who takes to money laundering to fetch his family a comfortable life. However, when Baskhar finds himself at a nadir of his life, the one to come to his rescue is his father, a hitherto silent spectator in the narrative. A similar trope is used in AAY with the film’s protagonist (Narne Nithiin), amidst his pursuit of his beloved (Nayan Sarika), who belongs to a different caste. However, his father remains a silent spectator until the end of the film, where he changes the cards and unexpectedly stands up for his son. 

For Telugu cinema, 2024 was also a year of imperfect fathers trying to redeem themselves interestingly. Rao Ramesh plays an unemployed middle-aged man in Maruthi Nagar Subramanyam, who spends his prime years simply waiting for a letter of appointment to his dream government job. And yet, the film portrays his stubbornness as dogged determination, ultimately rewarding him for his perseverance.  Similarly, in Veeranjaneyulu Vihara Yatra, VK Naresh plays a middle-class father who hides an important detail about ancestral wealth from his entire family and hatches an elaborate ploy to get things done the way he wants. His ways may be flawed, but Nageswara remains a caring and empathetic figure who is only looking out for his family in the long run. 

In a refreshing contrast is Suhas’ Prasad in Janaka Aithe Ganaka, a middle-class washing machine repairman with a low income. And yet, it’s admirable how conscious Prasad is of the impact of good parenting on a child’s life that he would rather not be a father than be a bad one, until he reaches a point of great financial stability. And then, of course, there’s Devara: Part 1. The film’s protagonist (NTR Jr) realises the folly of his ways and decides to be morally upright in his actions, which turns the entire village against him. However, in a mind-boggling twist in the second half, we learn that Devara’s son Vara had devised, at a tender age of eleven, an elaborate myth about his father that helps him keep the morally ambiguous villagers in check and on the right path. It's a gory, violent battle with fate to maintain the legacy of his fearless father.

If 2024 had imperfect father figures trying to redeem themselves in multiple ways, the many facets of motherhood on the big screen were equally fascinating, if not more. Vivek Athreya’s Saripodhaa Sanivaaram was a story about Surya, an angsty vigilante (Nani) channelling his anger to bring justice around him. Yet, Athreya ensured to give Surya an emotionally resonant backstory, centred around his relationship with his empathetic, caring, and rational mother (Abhirami), who couldn't finish her fable about the nature of anger. Surya becomes the raging vigilante as a means to cope with her mother’s loss. Later in the film, when he has a decision to make about how to route his anger without causing further destruction to the innocent bystanders, Surya is reminded of another mother-to-be, his sister (Aditi Balan). In a world brimming with rage and oppression, it’s a mother’s words and promises that bring any hope of restoring balance and justice. A mother figure is the moral backbone of Saripodhaa Sanivaaram and the voice of reasoning, albeit a conscientious outsider that guides the morality of the underdog men trying to usher in a change.

If in Saripodhaaa Sanivaaram, motherhood stood for the voice of reason and empathy, in Neelagiri Mamilla’s Pekamedalu, it becomes the reason to hope for a better world. Varalaxmi (Anoosha Krishna) is a diligent, hard-working woman from lower middle-class strata who continues to strive for a better life, despite her slacker husband Laxman (Vinoth Krishnan) who is always seeking a shortcut to wealth. They have a 10-year-old son, Rishi, who is gradually acquiring many of Laxman’s bad habits, as Varalaxmi can notice. It’s also established that Varalaxmi has been facing verbal and physical abuse for some time from Laxman. So when Varalaxmi finally breaks free of the cycle of life and starts a new life, it’s her motherhood that lies at the core of her humble ambition. She must start again and aim higher so that she can give her son a life that he deserves—one with means and respect and that is devoid of his abusive father. One of the most memorable visuals of the film is the finale, with Varalaxmi driving away with Rishi on an idyllic path, marching with pride to lead a life that’s indefinitely better than her past. 

In Kalki 2898 AD, it’s a post-apocalyptic society where Yaskin (Kamal Haasan) and his army are trying to find the path to immortality and invincibility through highly questionable means. While Bhairava (Prabhas) and Ashwatthama (Amitabh Bachchan) find themselves battling each other over Sum-80, aka Sumathi’s bounty, it's Sumathi (Deepika Padukone) who literally holds the key to everything this post-apocalyptic world seeks. Kalki 2898 AD drew its share of criticism as Sumathi remains at the fringes of her own story because, at the root of it all, it is the story of a mother who must protect her progeny against the evil of the world. The greatest forces of the world, in this film, unite to protect a mother that holds the key to a better society, its resurgence thereof. 

While in Kalki 2898 AD, the mother needs men to ensure her safety, things are somewhat different in Gaami, Vidyadhar Kagita’s ambitious saga that blends science-fiction, spirituality and philosophy for a meditative spectacle. In one of the film’s three separate timelines, we have Uma’s mother Durga (MG Abhinaya), once a Devadasi, being forced to abandon Uma at birth, which she learns was only to ensure her birth in a safe and protective atmosphere. One third of Vidyadhar Kagita’s film revolves around a mother’s quest to escape her past and ensure her daughter lives a life free from the trauma and the stains of yesteryear. The film’s emotionally overwhelming conflict is about Shankar (Vishwak) finding a cure for his rare illness and reconciling with his past, where he as Uma longed to be cared and caressed by his mother Durga. Much like Kalki 2898 AD, the solution to the most inexplicable troubles of the world lies in a mother’s touch. 

Films like Pekamedalu, Kalki: 2898 AD, and Gaami differ in how the mothers strived to create a better world for their children. And yet, the underlying theme remains the same: how, if everything else fails, it’s almost always a mother who is expected to be the saviour. Nandakishore Emani’s 35-Chinna Katha Kaadu also thrives on this notion. One of the most acclaimed Telugu films of the year, 35 is a story about an imaginative boy named Arun who struggles to make peace with mathematics. However, it is also arguably a story about Saraswati (Nivetha Thomas), a 10th fail and a mother of two, who must help Arun deal with his academic troubles while dealing with her own past failures in a way. Saraswati’s husband Prasad is a caring and sensitive man. However, when the going gets tough for Arun, Prasad is the first one to crumble, leaving Saraswati all alone to pick up the pieces and get going. And yet, it’s not a coincidence that Saraswati is quite literally named after a goddess, someone who shall always be there to protect her kids.

In complete contrast to 35-Chinna Katha Kaadu’s Saraswati is Guntur Kaaram’s Vasundhara (Ramya Krishnan), a big-time political figure at the brink of a downfall who must reconnect with her son after many years. Guntur Kaaram has a loving-yet-imperfect mother whom Ramana (Mahesh Babu) has long misunderstood, before circumstances led them to clear the air. Just like his imperfect mother, Ramana is also a fascinating protagonist who, underneath all the swagger, carries much emotional baggage. While Guntur Kaaram turned out to be a box-office failure, it continues to acquire a cult following of its own. And in the coming years, it should make for a fascinating case study as to how one of the biggest box-office disappointments of the year features an emotionally wounded hero and a far-from-perfect mother, two of the least prototypical protagonists, at the centre stage. 

Somewhere, between the strict definitions of fatherhood and motherhood, lay a film like Swag that, despite its many flaws, delivers a sharp critique of patriarchy and a daring exploration of gender expression. The Hasith Goli directorial has many characters whose lives are haunted by questions about their fathers. It’s both their weakness and yet their motivation to move forward. In Swag, everything boils down to your link with the ancestry. Under her misandry, Anubhuti (Ritu Varma) hides contempt for her mother figure, Vibhuthi, a trans person. Singa (Sree Vishnu), a carefree social media influencer, carries the pain of not knowing who her father is.

However, much like Saripodhaa Sanivaaram, amidst all the petty battles led by men to uphold the value system they created to their own advantages, it’s the two mothers that lend Swag its emotional core. Vibhuti, at a crucial point, decides to give another chance to herself after meeting another mother Revathi (Meera Jasmine), who too has been let down by the man in her life. And despite the social stigma, Vibhuti raises her adopted daughter Anubhuti with dignity and a lot of love. In a gentle yet effective way, Hasith Goli’s film makes a strong statement about how motherhood doesn’t belong to one gender. And this world would be an infinitely better place if only a few more people understood that.