2,280 individuals came together to fund Rs 85 lakh for the making of Gandhi Tatha Chettu, the debut feature of director Padmavathi Malladi. While the budgetary limitations are apparent, they don't detract from the film's impact. Instead, these constraints have shaped a no-frills yet deeply funny, moving and thought-provoking narrative. In an era dominated by loud, extravagant and over-the-top productions, this movie strips away the unnecessary and puts storytelling back at the centre. It serves as a much-needed reminder of cinema's essence - captivating audiences through compelling narratives rather than grand spectacle.
The story is simple and straightforward. A sugarcane factory, the lifeline of a village, is set to shut down, leaving the farmers grappling with financial uncertainty. Desperate for survival, they consider selling their ancestral agricultural land to make way for a proposed chemical factory. At the heart of this turmoil lies a profound question: Can Ramachandraiah (Ananda Chakrapani), the wise and idealistic patriarch of the village, and his spirited granddaughter Gandhi (Sukriti Veni Bandreddi) - symbolically named after Mahatma Gandhi - use the Gandhian principles of non-violence, truth and perseverance to protect their family land, the village, and a sacred neem tree (voiced by Tanikella Bharani), a symbol of life and heritage?
What sets Gandhi Tatha Chettu apart is its ability to weave profound themes into a seemingly simple narrative. The film subtly critiques the decline of agriculture, environmental degradation, and the erosion of Gandhian ideals, all while exploring the resilience of a community. The pacing mirrors the unhurried rhythm of village life, offering a slice-of-life authenticity that is both immersive and endearing.
The first half of the movie is full of the childhood innocence of Gandhi. Its strength lies in its unpolished realism. The dialogue feels organic, and the cast of real villagers, not professional actors, lends an air of credibility to the story. Gandhi's youthful idealism contrasts beautifully with the cynicism of the adults around her, making her journey all the more poignant.
The second half introduces delightful surprises, such as Gandhi's attempts to emulate Gandhian protests. These moments, infused with humour and sincerity, underline the film's message that even small actions can inspire change. However, the sudden transformation of certain characters and the reliance on divine intervention in the climax slightly dilute the otherwise grounded narrative.
Sukriti Veni Bandreddi, the daughter of
Pushpa director Sukumar, delivers a remarkable debut performance as Gandhi, capturing the character's innocence, resilience and vulnerability with ease. Her interactions with the ensemble of young actors, including Bhanu Prakash and Nehal Anand, are natural and engaging, portraying the youthful camaraderie and ideological debates with charm.
Ananda Chakrapani as Ramachandraiah is the film's moral anchor, delivering a nuanced performance that balances wisdom with quiet strength. In one particularly moving scene, his calm yet scathing critique of an opportunistic corporate representative (Rag Mayur) is deeply philosophical.
Mayur's portrayal of Satish, the film's antagonist, strikes a balance between charm and shrewdness, though his eventual redemption feels overly convenient.
Tanikella Bharani's voice work as the neem tree that breaks the fourth wall adds a layer of gravitas to the story, embodying the village's collective conscience and heritage.
The technical aspects - camera work, lighting, set design, sound design, colour correction and costumes - are minimalistic and functional. It's hard to discern whether this simplicity is a deliberate artistic choice or a result of the film's shoestring budget. The editing is not sleek, either. It has its own laidback pace that goes well with one of its dialogues - prema tho gelavalante time paduthundi. Either way, the understated approach complements the narrative, ensuring the spotlight remains on the story and characters rather than on technical extravagance.
The cinematography by Srijitha Cheruvupally and Viswa Devabattula captures the rustic beauty of the Telangana countryside with an observational lens, emphasizing the village's simplicity and charm. The visuals, complemented by Ree's unobtrusive yet evocative music, create an atmosphere that draws you into the narrative.
The screenplay balances humour, drama and social commentary, though the tonal shift in the climax feels abrupt. The visual metaphors, such as Gandhi's shadow resembling prison bars, are clever without being overbearing.
Gandhi Tatha Chettu is a cinematic breath of fresh air - a poignant reminder of the power of simple, heartfelt storytelling in a world dominated by spectacle. While it has its imperfections, the movie's sincerity and message shine through, making it a must-watch for those seeking substance over style. For anyone yearning for a detox from formulaic cinema, Gandhi Tatha Chettu offers an immersive experience that entertains, enlightens, and inspires reflection. Whether you're drawn to its Gandhian ideals or the nostalgia of rural life, this film is a testament to the enduring relevance of simplicity and humanity in storytelling.