The operative words and phrases in this review are in quotes, deliberately.
Virinchi Varma's Jithender Reddy "tries to make us believe" that it brings to life the political journey of Jithender Reddy (Rakesh Varre), a nationalist figure shaped by the turbulent socio-political climate of 1980s Andhra Pradesh. Set in Jagtial, then part of undivided Karimnagar, the film presents Reddy as a staunch "Rashtriya Swayamseva Sangh" (no typo there) supporter and an "ABVB" (no typo here either) leader driven by a passion to confront the Naxalite threat and the leftist movement, and defend the oppressed. The movie starts rolling as:
Jithender Reddy
Hi's'tory needs to be told
It's a wordplay on "history needs to be told" and "his story needs to be told", and is supposed to be a tribute to the legendary Reddy. But the way finally it's told, it is the opposite of the word "tribute".
The storyline traces Reddy's path from a principled boy to a youth "ABVB" leader, guided by "nationalist convictions" and shaped by encounters with Naxalites who oppress and exploit vulnerable communities. Reddy's dedication to justice and his resolve to fight for the marginalized ones leads him to "Rajpai" (no typo here either), but then ultimately to his supreme sacrifice.
The movie doesn't try to tackle a politically charged subject. It seems it has set its agenda already. Throughout the film, Reddy is a square-headed robot on a mission to spread nationalism the "sanatani" way (of the ABVB). The narrative unfolds as a superficial clash of good versus evil, with leftist forces portrayed simplistically as antagonists. Commercial success doesn't matter to the makers, craft doesn't matter, cinematic excellence doesn't matter. The central character's journey is defined more by his ideological stances, maybe deliberately, than his humanness, leaving you with a protagonist who feels more like a symbol than a fully realized person. Moments that should elicit empathy - his personal struggles, inner conflicts and relationships - are overshadowed by one-dimensional depictions. This lack of nuanced storytelling ultimately hinders the film's potential for a compelling emotional journey.
The film doesn't attempt to vilify just some leftist revolutionaries; instead, it targets all of them, and paints the entire leftist ideology and its followers with a wide "evil" brush. In its portrayal of Reddy's heroism, the script remains heavy-handed, presenting a near-flawless Reddy whose victories and moral high ground are unreachable, while his adversaries are portrayed as the scum of the earth. There is an absolute absence of moral complexity and little room for suspense or unpredictability.
While there is nothing wrong with a movie having its own deep prejudices, the main problem with Jithender Reddy is the bad execution. It's so bad that the audience, especially I, for the first time enjoyed the Oppo/Vivo ads in the interval.
The movie also presents some trenchant worldviews. When our hero is a boy, the elders ask what he wants to be in life - a doctor, an engineer or a lawyer. The boy replies "Rashtriya Swayamseva Sangh". The film's ideas of nationalism are exactly those of the ABVB and the Rashtriya Swayamseva Sangh. And its ideas of sanatan are appalling. It's a token sanatan that one has to have in his sleeves. Indeed, the movie is sanatani voyeurism - close-ups of rudrakshas, Vivekananda's photos, Bharat Mata, Akhand Bharat, Shivaji statues and many other symbols are shown just like that, for voyeurism, throughout the runtime.
Rakesh Varre who plays Jithender Reddy tries his best with the material at hand, but the script's constraints prevent him from delivering a performance that resonates. His portrayal lacks the emotional depth that could have drawn audiences closer to the character's inner world. The supporting cast, including Riya Suman, Subbaraju and Ravi Prakash, are similarly underutilized, their roles serving primarily as props to reinforce the protagonist's moral stance rather than as fully developed characters with independent arcs.
Cinematographer Gnana Shekar fails to capture the depth and texture of the 1980s era, delivering a rather pedestrian visual experience. The movie has some sequences of college (Reddy's college life forms a major chunk of this movie) that try to mimic
Siva frame by frame, but the end result is more of a cat when the objective was to create a tiger.
The film's climactic massacre scene, a pivotal moment meant to convey the emotional cost of Jithender's struggle, is undermined by lacklustre execution. The makers try here to recreate the scene in
Gangs Of Wasseypur Part 2 where Faizal fires a thousand bullets at Ramadhir. And again, it lacks the intensity of that scene.
In another example of lack of application, while describing some incidents of Reddy's life in 1980, the movie uses a TVS XL 100 moped that was launched in 2016. There are many such prop mistakes.
Gopi Sundar's music is not even serviceable. The music never seems to stop. It's reminiscent of a play at a jathara. If you want to achieve intensity, there have to be highs and lows, but no - it's jathara throughout. A more dynamic score might have added the adrenaline the screenplay sorely lacks.
The editing choices also weigh down the pacing, with redundant scenes that hinder the story's flow and disrupt immersion.
Ultimately, Jithender Reddy is a missed opportunity. A successful biopic requires not just reverence but a human connection - something that allows the viewer to experience the hero's struggles, doubts and moments of vulnerability. Jithender Reddy, unfortunately, skips this journey. While it presents a worthwhile narrative centered on a complex political figure, the film is hamstrung by a lack of emotional depth, repetitive screenplay and overly simplistic storytelling. It may appeal to viewers who align with its political ideology, but for the broader audience, the lack of nuance and cinematic dynamism makes it a hard sell.