In the realm of Telugu cinema, where epic love stories and mythological references are a dime a dozen, the film "Lenin" attempts to carve out a unique space for itself. Directed by Murali Kishor Abburu, the movie embarks on a journey to explore the complexities of love, friendship, and revenge, all while weaving in threads from the Mahabharata and Ramayana. But does it succeed in weaving an engaging narrative, or does it fall flat under the weight of its own ambitions? Let's delve into the intricacies of this cinematic endeavor.
One thing that immediately stands out is the film's bold opening statement: "No war is more violent than love." This assertion sets the tone for the entire movie, suggesting that the audience is in for an intense and emotional ride. The story unfolds in Bharatham Mitta, a cultural festival celebrating Draupadi in a fictional village in Andhra Pradesh's Chittoor district. It is here that we meet Lenin, a young man portrayed as an outsider with a hunger for both a hearty meal and love. His arrival during the festivities marks the beginning of a tale that promises to be both captivating and complex.
The film's attempt to blend the rustic world with attention to detail is commendable. The screenplay tries to spring surprises at several turns, but it is in the core of the love story where the movie falters. The audience is never truly invested in the characters' journey, and the pathos that could have been a driving force is not fully realized. The story had immense potential to build on love and pathos, but it falls short of achieving this, leaving viewers feeling somewhat detached from the emotional core of the film.
The titular character's name, Lenin, is an intriguing choice. While some may interpret it as a nod to Communist leanings, the makers clarify that it simply stems from the observation that people in villages are often named after well-known personalities. This subtle detail adds a layer of realism to the film, grounding it in the everyday lives of its characters.
The narrative introduces several characters with parallels to figures from the Mahabharata and Ramayana, adding a layer of mythological intrigue to the story. The romance between Lenin and Bharathi blooms amid ominous portents, and an episode involving a game of cards and a Shakuni-like character signals the dangers that lie ahead for the couple. However, the origins of the love story could have been explored with greater depth, and the film's reliance on conventional meet-cute templates leaves something to be desired.
On the brighter side, Bharathi is presented as a woman capable of taking control, even if only briefly. She refuses to remain a spectator during the game of cards and is unafraid to speak her mind. This assertiveness resurfaces in a crucial scene when she questions why a woman's consent is not sought in marriage. It offers some respite at a time when star-led mainstream Telugu films continue to draw criticism for objectifying women. The other woman who plays a pivotal role in the drama is portrayed by Easwari Rao, who makes her presence count despite limited screen time.
The film's first hour examines the vengefulness born of wounded pride and the many ways it can wreck relationships. The initial portions require patience as the film establishes its milieu and works through familiar tropes. The latter half builds intrigue as the narrative begins to reveal its secrets. However, the numerous twists and the excess of mythological references make the proceedings tedious. Some revelations land effectively; others are easy to anticipate.
Akhil Akkineni, who inhabited urban characters with remarkable ease in his earlier films, makes an earnest attempt to embrace a rustic avatar and is convincing in both the romantic and action sequences. After Kaantha, Bhagyashri Borse gets another role that allows her to demonstrate her potential. She has a striking screen presence and fits the part of a woman caught at the crossroads of love and war. Among the supporting cast, Sivaji and Brahmaji make an impression, but it is the actor playing a covert antagonist who steals the thunder.
Leon Britto's cinematography and S Thaman's music do their part to elevate the drama. Ultimately, however, the blood-soaked saga grows tiresome in its reliance on the epics to do the heavy lifting. The early dialogue stressing that the protagonist is not "a closed chapter" can also be read as a reference to Akhil's career, which suffered a setback after his previous film, Agent, tanked at the box office. In Lenin, Akhil does display marked growth as an actor, but a fresher script might have brought something new to the table.
In conclusion, "Lenin" is a film that tries to blend the rustic with the mythological, but it falls short of achieving its ambitious goals. While it has its moments of brilliance, the love story at its core never quite makes the audience root wholeheartedly for its characters. The film's reliance on familiar tropes and its failure to fully explore the potential of its narrative leave viewers feeling somewhat disappointed. Perhaps a fresher script and a more nuanced approach to the love story could have made all the difference. As it stands, "Lenin" is a film that leaves one wondering what could have been.
