Pekamedalu Movie Review: Anoosha Krishna and Vinoth Kishan excel in one of the best Telugu films of the year

‘Mass elevation’ is a major phenomenon in mainstream Indian cinema, especially Telugu movies. The high of those euphoric moments when the audience collectively cheers for a character and their uprising is what often makes the entire movie-watching experience worth it. Usually, the catalyst for these moments are the righteous protagonists of our movies who triumph their enemies. But Rakesh Varre’s latest production, Pekamedalu, brings a slight twist to the tale, presenting a male protagonist so cunning, self-centred, and unlikeable that his moments of despair become one of cathartic joy for the audience. Everytime he succeeds, we chuckle in part awe and part shock. And every time he fails, we rejoice. And yet, he is not a comic figure or a sidekick—till the end, he remains at the centrestage. This is a unique feat for Telugu cinema and, hence, Pekamedalu stands out as a truly original film of our times.

Directed by Neelagiri Mamilla, the film tells the story of an underprivileged married couple, Laxman (Vinoth Kishan) and Varalaxmi (Anoosha Krishna). Varalaxmi is an uneducated but persevering woman who never succumbs to the many barriers in her life. Laxman, meanwhile, is someone eager to not merely walk out of his hardships, but rather swiftly jump out of them by hook or by crook. His machiavellian self extends to his family as well, with him barely helping Varalaxmi run the household and focusing entirely on his own motives.

Director: Neelagiri Mamilla

Cast: Vinoth Kishan, Anoosha Krishna, Retika Srinivas, Jagan Yogi Raj, Anusha Nuthala

The film takes its time to establish the universe, these two primary characters and their standpoints. The edit pattern is pleasantly laidback and unhurried, and yet the first half of Pekamedalu moves at a brisk pace, possibly because of how quick Laxman is in his attempts to achieve his goals. Within a few minutes, we see Laxman slyly climb up the ladder—from his constraining little shanty to the upper rung of society, where he shares a smoke with an uber-rich woman on the 15th floor of a high rise. 

Thankfully, the writers of the film (Hamza Ali, Sreenivas Ittam and Neelagiri Mamilla) don’t hold back while etching Laxman’s character—there are no covert attempts to make him sympathetic or lend him a backstory where his actions seem justified. It would have been easy for the makers to mould this into a routine family drama, weaving in straightforward redemption arcs for the more fallible characters in the narrative. And that’s one of the best parts about Pekamedalu—the filmmaker’s gaze is so clear in the way he treats Laxman’s woes and how he ensures the story remains rooted in believability. Everything from Varalaxmi’s succumbing to her self-doubts and external pressure to Laxman’s pathetic attempts to wiggle out of his family responsibilities rings true. Vinoth Kishan, who had previously caught the attention of Telugu filmgoers in a few villainous roles, is absolutely marvellous as Laxman, delivering a performance that’s the backbone of this film. Meanwhile, Anoosha Krishna, playing Varalaxmi, makes a staggering debut. There’s a very lived-in quality to her body language and demeanour, and she hits all the right notes, particularly in the final act, brilliantly capturing Varalaxmi’s repressed angst. The film, too, doesn’t attempt to make Varalaxmi a victim figure, but rather treats her with dignity as she struggles to rise up in life despite her husband’s consistently self-sabotaging manoeuvres.

But don’t mistake me—Pekamedalu is not one of those message-y films too content with their noble-hearted intentions. Director Neelagiri Mamilla displays an impressive and consistent command over his craft, be it the way he stages his scenes, builds narrative tension, or uses humour to underline the tragedy of some situations (special mention to music director Smaran Sai for the song 'Adapilla,' a musically rich composition that underlines the core of the film). Early on in the film, a character asks Varalaxmi why she never grabs her husband’s collars and answers him back—this little throwaway line has a great payoff towards the climax. Similarly, when Laxman returns home after all his get-rick-quick schemes come crashing down and finds nobody around, the film suddenly goes silent on us, using no background score, which effectively underlines the emptiness of Laxman’s life, whether he realises it any soon or not. 

Around the midpoint, the film enters an unexpected zone where Vinoth crosses a few too many boundaries of matrimonial sanctity. We are stumped for a bit, but also concerned about the story’s direction now—is this going to become yet another film where a married man, who once strayed from his path, comes back to realise his faults? But Pekamedalu has plenty of subdued surprises in the second half, including a party sequence where a bunch of high-on-hallucinogenics youngsters deal with Laxman while also comically grappling with their altered state of mind. The climactic sequence, which is one of the most riveting scenes of the film, is where heightened emotions and technical prowess (cinematographer Haricharan K deserves a nod for this stretch), blend in satisfying measures, creating a moment of pure, much-needed emotional release, for both the protagonist and the audience. And that’s the biggest accomplishment of the film. Despite the obvious temptations to turn into a morality-laden family drama, Pekamedalu remains impressively balanced in its narrative, using both its emotional core and cinematic craft to make a pertinent point about women empowerment. 

Yet, this remains a story as much about Laxman’s never-mending self as Varalaxmi’s journey to self-actualisation, and the director makes consistent efforts to stay on this lane. During a scene where a powerful man comes and demeans Laxman while pushing him against the wall (quite literally), we don’t cut back to that man’s face—the camera stays on Laxman’s face, observing how he reacts to such blunt confrontation with a blank face, possibly a tad remorseful about his actions but equally aware that he will never change. This conscious decision to stay focused on Laxman reflects in the film’s final segment too. Irrespective of whether we feel even the slightest tinge of sympathy for Laxman, it’s important for us to know where he is at the end of it all. Neelagiri Mamilla knows it, and it’s such a refreshing surprise to see a Telugu film where the director knows exactly what he is doing—with craft and sentiment. This alone makes Pekamedalu one of the most captivating and impactful movies of the year so far.