Oka Brundavanam Movie Review: A breezy feel-good drama that works best when exploring the unconventional

Oka Brundavanam, the latest Telugu release, has three characters at its core. One of them, Maha (Shinnova), wants to make a documentary film about untold stories of womanhood as a way to honour her mother’s unfulfilled ambition. Even though the film is largely about her and Vikram’s (Balu) attempt to help Nayanika, a grumpy yet inquisitive 10-year-old, find closure about her roots, the film knows how to balance its road trip elements and character-driven nature. We get a film that is consistently charming in its attempts to endear us to its protagonists. There is no rush to reach its conflict points; all we get is a story of two young dreamers learning a few things about the world and themselves as they embark on an unusual journey. 

Director: Satya Botcha

Cast: Balu, Sanvitha, Shinnova, Subhalekha Sudhakar, Annapuranama, Mahender

Director Satya Botcha displays great confidence in the montage-like technique he uses to edit many of his sequences. The script has a familiar flow on paper, but Satya, in collaboration with writer Chetan Bandi, constructs them in a way that feels novel and keeps things interesting. A simple conversation between Maha and Vikram about their assignment becomes a non-linear assortment of information that compels us to put the scene together. When Nayanika lists the questions she wants to ask Joseph, the director switches not just the locations but also Nayanika’s state of mind— as her questions get more serious, her face visibly gets more solemn too.

Oka Brundavanam might be breezy and feel-good in its vibe, but it can never be mistaken for being synthetic in its characters or situations. The makers are not afraid to portray their lead figures as flawed, humane people. Vikram is so dogged in his ambitions to go to the US that he becomes oblivious to the plight of his parents as they struggle to take care of his grandfather. On the other hand, Maha’s interactions with her father and grandmother remain blunt for the longest time, bordering on unkind, but that’s a risk writer Chetan Bandi takes here. It’s one of the many little edgy choices made here — and for better or worse, these decisions distinguish Oka Brundavanam from a standard Telugu film. It stays true to the spirit of a film that isn’t afraid to embrace its less-than-perfect protagonists and scenarios, that wants to soothe us but not necessarily appease us.

A film like this relies equally on its scripting novelty and its performances. Unfortunately, Balu struggles to capture Vikram’s vulnerability. His performance especially pales in comparison to her counterparts. Sudhakar, who has probably the kindest face in Telugu cinema, elevates the schmaltzy material with his presence and lends it genuine warmth. Shinnova too has great screen presence and has the potential to go a long way. Meanwhile, it's Sanvitha, the child actor who made a small appearance in Salaar, who is the real discovery here. Nayanika isn’t a very complex part. She is a 10-year-old girl — grumpy and restless but longing for love and closure — and Sanvitha captures her yearning to great effect with her expressive eyes.

It’s disappointing when Oka Brundavanam goes down a safer route when it comes to finding a final act. This is a film about finding home and meaning in life, and the narrative largely stays true to its character-driven nature. However, the writing is half-baked when it comes to developing the relationship between Maha and Vikram, which is largely defined by how they help Nayanika in her journey, instead of sharing a genuine connection with each other. This is why the final act, where a romantic union between the two becomes a major plot point, feels like a cop-out. You wish the film didn’t fall back on such a cliche.

The cliche is bothersome all the more because there are novel little touches that consistently embellish the screenplay, even when there isn’t much happening in the central narrative. At one point, the camera follows Maha in a long take as she first arrives at Vikram’s office and explores his workplace, only to come back to the entrance. In another of the montages, Maha and Vikram are shown interviewing a transwoman for their documentary. It’s a brief but potent statement, made succinctly. When Vikram’s mother is asked to talk about her life for Maha’s documentary, she chooses to be vulnerable and share a few poignant memories. And yet, all the while, she is mindful of the pressure cooker whistle count in the background. The life of a middle-class Indian woman is never without its pressures and reminders, even at its liberating point.

Oka Brundavanam is at its strongest when it tries to capture emotions casually and gently. It falls apart only when it resorts to a formula.