Little Hearts Movie Review: Unhinged, unserious, unabashedly hilarious

Little Hearts Movie Review:

Little Hearts, written and directed by Sai Marthand, is dedicated to 'memers' in its opening credits. It makes sense. There is a consistent presence of memes in the narrative. Akhil, our protagonist, spends a lot of his time on the internet, seeking answers about how to deal with his frivolous problems, when not making pseudo-philosophical posts about life. More crucially, there is a calculated sense of unseriousness to the film, and I mean it in the best way possible. Little Hearts is amusing and, more importantly, lighthearted to a degree that I haven’t seen in any recent Telugu film. 

Cast: Mouli Tanuj Prasanth, Shivani Nagaram, SS Kanchi, Jai Krishna, Rajeev Kanakala

Director: Sai Marthand

Produced by Aditya Hasan, Little Hearts revolves around the bubblegum romance between Akhil (Mouli Tanuj Prasanth) and Khathayani (Shivani Nagaram), two young students who continue to struggle academically even as they waltz through life and their parents’ overwhelming expectations. It’s a love story, alright, but not necessarily laden with strong emotions. In fact, there is barely a moment in the film where you can recall a character feeling emotional or the audience compelled to be serious. Two moments at best, that’s it — and that’s rare. The best of comic films succumb to this unnecessary need to be ‘wholesome’ and incorporate sentimentality when they don’t have to. Little Hearts doesn’t make that mistake. Little Hearts embraces this sense of frothy lightness completely, and it best comes alive during Mouli’s video present for Khaythayani’s birthday, a sequence that’s clearly designed to be an unabashed tribute to the ‘cringe’ memers who really thrived in TikTok, giving form to their unfiltered expressions.

Another sign of a true-blue comedy is when the writers aren’t afraid to cross a few sacred lines, bordering on the offensive. As Khathayani’s father finds himself haunted and scandalised by one of Akhil’s antics, you know the writing team is really confident in its wild swings. This is a film that knows its audience, and there is great conviction at work here. Perhaps the most sentimental thing about this teenybopper comedy is its tribute to Baahubali, as it draws the parallels between an unlikely relationship and the box office success of a risky project like the 2015 epic by SS Rajamouli. It’s a running, affectionate joke that lands well.

All this frothiness is packaged with an impressive aesthetic style — the colours are vibrant, and the frames are lively. The constant use of graphics and a snappy edit pattern ensures things never get dull. Sinjith Yerramilli’s music — both songs and background score— is in a delightful sync with the film’s peppy youthful energy. (Watch out for a mock-tragedy song about lovers’ separation that has also made the antagonist father restless).

Mouli is a bona fide star. He is confident, has a wicked sense of comic timing, and is impressively uninhibited in front of the camera. It’s hard for me to imagine a phase where a persona like Mouli holds equal stardom to an Allu Arjun, but I can hope. It’s safe to say the entire film not just revolves around Mouli but also rides on his shoulders — and Mouli understands the assignment. It’s only in comparison, unfortunately, that Shivani Nagaram pales somewhat. Otherwise, it’s refreshing to see a female protagonist who is every inch a misfit and underdog as the ‘hero,’ and to see a young female actor who isn’t afraid of being goofy on screen. 

It’s also amusing how the film plays on the man-child trope by making Akhil a self-aware young boy who states outright that his lover needs to look after him, like a mother does for her child. There are a few scandalising jokes about young women being perceived as ‘aunties,’ but the film always knows it’s laughing at the young boys who are making these scathing quips.

As the film slightly begins to build on the theme of personal aspirations versus family expectations, you wonder if the film will eventually lead to a Bommarillu-styled confrontation. But Little Hearts subverts the expectations yet again, merely by sticking to the lightness. Even Akhil’s mother is delightfully selfish here. When she makes biriyani on a Wednesday, it’s because she likes to eat meat on Wednesdays — it’s not for her family. Later, she has no qualms telling Akhil that she wouldn’t like him as her son in the next birth. But the most realistic subversion arrives courtesy of Madhu (played by a brilliantly deadpan Jai Krishna).

Most films often fall prey to the main character syndrome, where the supporting characters have no arc of their own, existing only to advance the protagonist’s story or cheer for them. Not Madhu, Akhil’s close friend and his strongest critic. Madhu is a cynic. There is barely a juncture where we see him encouraging Akhil in his ambitious pursuits; in fact, Madhu largely tries to pull him down. He is the kind of friend who will leave mocking remarks under his friend’s motivational Facebook posts. Madhu’s skepticism constantly adds to the fun proceedings, bringing a new layer to the narrative. This film isn’t just about whether Akhil and Khathayani will reunite against all odds; it is also about whether Madhu will finally come around and finally stop being a naysaying friend (spoiler alert: he doesn’t).

Madhu never stops being skeptical, and Little Hearts, fortunately, never stops being fun.