Andhra King Taluka Review

Cinema has lost much of its old-world sheen. There was a time when entertainment meant only a handful of things: single-screen theatres, village jatharas, and the lone television channel - Doordarshan. Naturally, movies became the heartbeat of leisure.

Back then, filmmaking demanded massive investment - camera rolls, colour processing, reel printing, labourious manual editing, and the logistical nightmare of transporting film cans. Yet, despite these costs, most films turned a profit unless they were truly terrible or too niche. Celebrations, too, were inseparable from cinema: projector screenings, dual-display VCRs, and impromptu community gatherings.

I myself once bicycled 30 kilometres just to watch Kodama Simham in 1990. That was the level of passion. Diehard fans would go to any extreme - sometimes even risking their lives or spending their last rupee to celebrate their favourite stars. Anyone who was an adult by 2000 knows this world well. But this reminder is for the younger generation - those growing up with OTT, mobile phones, and endless free-streaming platforms. Andhra King Taluka is a fictional biopic born from that movie-only era and the fierce devotion it inspired.

Surya (Upendra), a once-massive star known as Andhra King, is struggling. After a series of flops, his popularity has faded, and the shoot of his 100th film is stalled because the producer needs Rs 3 crore to complete the shoot. Newspapers mock his declining stardom, and no one steps forward to help.

Worried and out of options, Surya is shocked when an unknown person suddenly deposits the entire amount into his account. He traces the source and discovers it is Sagar (Ram Pothineni), a devoted fan from Godapalli Lanka - a remote East Godavari village with no proper transport or electricity. Then the movie focuses on Sagar so much so that it becomes a biopic of a fan.

This film feels refreshing for many reasons, the most important being the way it treats its lead actors. Ram Pothineni sheds his star image completely - here, he is simply a fan with limited means. Upendra, once a larger-than-life phenomenon, also steps away from his trademark persona to play a vulnerable, insecure star grappling with fading fame. Even with this grounded approach, the film still carries an undercurrent stardom celebration, honouring the magic of cinema through subtle, inventive moments.

Director Mahesh Babu Pachigolla recreates the era's movie mania with meticulous detail - the fan cutouts, the rickshaws and autos announcing new releases over loudspeakers, hand-painted posters, chaotic ticket counters, and the electric energy inside theatres. These recreations are difficult to pull off, yet Pachigolla does it with remarkable authenticity.

Another strength lies in how effortlessly the story connects its dots. Surya needs money to finish his film - how does Sagar even learn about it? Sagar is just a college student from a humble family, armed only with a bicycle. How does someone like him arrange such a huge sum and deposit it into a star's account? The film does not take narrative shortcuts. Instead, it unfolds these answers with an organic flow that keeps you fully invested.

Thematically, it builds a compelling world where a star inspires a fan he has never met - only for life's turning points to flip the equation, inspiring the star in return. Their emotional arcs ultimately converge into "Surya Sagar", a symbolic rising sun over an ocean.

Sagar's romantic thread with Mahalakshmi (Bhagyashri Borse) is also purposefully woven; she isn't ornamental but a key player as the daughter of a wealthy, influential theatre owner (Murali Sharma). His friend Eshwar (Rahul Ramakrishna), who abandons him in frustration, also becomes significant later. Nothing here is wasted - no character, no scene.

However, the pacing occasionally falters, and the film's 2-hour-46-minute runtime can feel heavy. But despite its length, the emotional payoff and nostalgic richness make the journey worthwhile. It ends up being a good feel-good movie; the only concern is whether it will strike a chord with the current generation, and that I'm not sure of.

The performances are solid across the board, but what truly stands out is the new dimension both Pothineni and Upendra bring to their roles. For Pothineni, this is his most grounded performance in a long time - quiet, sincere, and refreshingly understated. Upendra, as always, proves his versatility; he slips into the role of a troubled star with remarkable ease.

Bhagyashri Borse may have limited screen time, but she makes every minute count. Her presence feels essential to the narrative, and she performs with an effortless charm. If you've seen Kaantha, you'll immediately notice how different her role is here - lighter, more rooted, yet impactful.

On the technical front, don't expect the kind of visual extravagance associated with modern cinema. Instead, the film leans into authenticity. The cinematography beautifully captures the rustic landscapes of East Godavari, giving the story a lived-in feel. The music blends well with the flow of the film; the songs never feel intrusive, though they're not particularly memorable either.

Ultimately, this movie is a must-watch for anyone nostalgic about the pre-2000 era - when Cine-Maa was cherished almost as dearly as Maa herself.