Sankranthiki Vasthunam

dark humor (death), misogyny

• Cast: Venkatesh, Aishwarya Rajesh, Meenakshi Chaudhary…
• Director, Writer: Anil Ravipudi
• Music Director: Bheems Ceciroleo

When a tech giant visits India, he is kidnapped. IPS Meenakshi is enlisted to track down and find YD Raju, an infamous ex-police officer to help them with the case.

In the lens of being a farcical movie, the story can’t be picked apart. It is exaggerated and nonsensical to support the comedy intended.

• Direction: The movie swings between sincerity and farce, leaving the audience unsure of how to emotionally engage with it by the end. George Antony’s comedy sequences and those of YD Raju and his son feel repetitive, loud and fatigued. The comic portions seem to have received more energy and attention in their making than most of the movie and plot. For instance, the subplot of YD Raju being caught cheating is delivered with amateur looking shots, so they lack emotional weight. Similarly, the teacher’s motivational speech feels satirical but is visually staged with sincerity, adding to the dissonance.
• Acting: Naresh’s character is marked by an inconsistent accent and unpredictable shifts in mood, making it difficult to stay immersed in his character. Meenakshi struggles similarly – her strained accent sits awkwardly atop flat expressions and underwritten dialogue. In contrast, Aishwarya Rajesh is compelling as the jealous wife. Venkatesh is equally effective in portraying a self-absorbed man. Revanth (as Bulli Raju) deserves special mention for treating his role with a level of seriousness the film often lacks elsewhere. 
• Production: The sets are garishly artificial, drenched in oversaturated colors that mirror the movie’s tonal absurdity. The harsh lighting is reminiscent of Sarileru Neekevaru. While this style might be intended to support the film’s exaggerated tone, it often hinders audience engagement. 
• Music: Godari Gattu is a sweet and endearing song, and the most refreshing part of the film. The rest of the soundtrack feels expendable, marred by clunky lyrics and formulaic beats that add little emotional value. The background score was uneven – overbearing in some scenes and strangely absent in others – further highlighting the film’s broader tonal inconsistency.
• Dialogues: The dialogues were trite and derivative, relying heavily on tired, misogynistic tropes. There was an attempt to redeem YD Raju’s disrespectful behavior through a moralistic subplot with his teacher. Unfortunately, this arc is just as flat as the others, populated by underdeveloped characters and uninspired writing.

• IPS Meenakshi is an incompetent officer, repeatedly failing at her assignments. Despite being central to the story, her actions (or inactions) highlight weak character construction rather than intentional farce.
• The film attempts farcical comedy while stubbornly sticking to outdated tropes. Using comedy that refuses to evolve makes the humor feel stale and misplaced. The one exception is puppet Papa Pandey – that bit, while not original, was executed with coherence that landed well.
• There’s little evidence of thoughtful storytelling. The plot exists mainly to create space for exaggerated comedy, but even within that, it’s poorly constructed. Absurd humor can thrive when grounded in a solid narrative and character framework, but that’s missing here. Take the farmhouse sequence: Satya Akella is kidnapped with laughable ease, facing no real resistance. The scene feels like a draft written around the punchline. Or even the overall plot – we have a former police officer (who hasn’t worked in six years and is clearly unfit) being chosen over active personnel for a major operation – despite being a liability due to his physical condition and the presence of Bhagyalakshmi. There isn’t much evidence of standard police work like tracking calls.
• Exaggerated comedy doesn’t give characters a moral free pass. YD Raju’s son, Bulli Raju, intentionally using foul language to provoke discomfort remains distasteful, regardless of tone. Intention matters.
• With no clear communication to Meenakshi from YD Raju that he only wants to be with Bhagyalakshmi, Meenakshi moves into a house on the same street hoping for more of the elderly affection she describes earlier in the film.
• Bhagyalakshmi and Meenakshi are pit against each other in one of the oldest cinema tropes – fighting over a man. What is baffling is the kind of man YD Raju is for two women to be fighting over him. He is a liar, teaches and endorses his pre-adolescent kid cursing, doesn’t communicate honestly nor transparently, and wants people to be miserable because he is
  • Weaponized incompetence: When Bhagyalakshmi and Meenakshi are arguing – he says that he won’t interfere when two women are arguing. The only reason they are arguing is because YD Raju never sets explicit boundaries with Meenakshi. He doesn’t turn down her advances and flirts with her throughout the trip, validating Bhagyalakshmi’s fears of him cheating. 
• Predictably, this movie ends with a subplot to ensure YD Raju’s character is left on a positive note and to justify as much of his negative behavior as possible.

No. It’s for folks who don’t mind “comedy” at the expense of women and a coherent storyline.

• The film carries an unmistakable air of complacency – a nonchalance toward producing anything of quality, or even coherence.
• ‘No Means Yes’ Trope:
  YD Raju says, “Pichoda, bhartha tho bhaarya siggu tho ‘u u’ annarante, uthsaahanga undhi, ra! Ani artham.” (Silly guy, if a wife blushingly says no to her husband [about sex], It means she’s actually excited and wants it.)
  • I get it, tropes are easy to write, but at what cost? This repulsive trope suggests – in the context of a heteronormative couple – that:
    • The man’s desire overrides a woman’s consent
    • Women don’t know what they want for themselves and are liars when asserting boundaries
    • Persistence, coercion, and even stalking can be reframed as romantic
      Sure, some couples in relationships may have a developed understanding of each other’s verbal and nonverbal cues. That nuance comes from trust and communication – not from a blanket belief that “no” always secretly means “yes.” Reducing this to a universal rule is deeply dangerous. 
• The “Women Enjoy Other Women Being Insulted” Trope
  YD Raju strikes again – perpetuating the harmful idea that women enjoy other women being berated. This trope, born of patriarchal insecurity, thrives on manufactured competition between women.
  • YD Raju continually invalidates Bhagyalakshmi’s fears by behaving flirtatiously with Meenakshi. When she expresses concerns to him, YD Raju berates Meenakshi and deflects responsibility, saying that women love other women being insulted. This interaction reeks of internalized misogyny framing women as the root cause of infidelity. Even though YD Raju is aware of Bhagyalakshmi’s concerns, he continues to cross professional boundaries in his interactions with Meenakshi and Bhagyalakshmi blames Meenakshi. While Meenakshi is behaving in a morally gray area, she isn’t the one who is in a monogamous marriage. Bhagyalakshmi was not seeking enjoyment in Meenakshi being humiliated, she was seeking reassurance. That moment isn’t pleasure, it’s survival. She clings to whatever scraps of validation she can get, even if they are at the expense of Meenakshi.
• The Tragedy of Meenakshi
  • Meenakshi moves into the same street, hoping to rekindle the affection she once felt. By never telling her he’s solely committed to Bhagyalakshmi, YD Raju leaves the door open for her.
  • Supposedly an accomplished police officer
• A Man of No Accountability
  • At one point when Bhagyalakshmi and Meenakshi are arguing, YD Raju says he won’t interfere in a fight between two women. But why are they fighting?
  • In his final monologue, YD Raju once again dodges any and all responsibility. He addresses men, telling them to hide their pasts and avoid being open with their wives about previous relationships. He places the blame on women’s reactions rather than his own lack of transparency. If openness and acceptance were so important to him, he should have married someone aligned with those values – or at least had that conversation before marrying Bhagyalakshmi. Even if we offer him the benefit of the doubt – that he didn’t realize this mattered to him until after the wedding – it doesn’t excuse the way he flirts with Meenakshi or fails to set boundaries with her. He validates her advances and then plays the victim, insisting she and Bhagyalakshmi are the sources of his misery. His constant “woe is me” narrative is tired, manipulative, and exhausting – especially from a character the film wants us to root for.
  • Watching him get “strong” when the two women argue is telling. He isn’t motivated to fix or maintain positive relationships but is motivated by maintaining his own peace, even if it comes at the expense of others’.
• The Age Gap and Patriarchy
  This film is a walking endorsement of large age gaps in heterosexual relationships – framed not as a concern, but as a cultural norm. I can understand how, in a tradition-heavy, marriage-forward society, age gaps offer certain conveniences. But let’s be clear: When the foundation of a relationship is such a gap, the marriage often takes priority over the individuals. It’s a marriage rooted in patriarchy and unequal footing of the two partners.
  • Take this line from Bhagyalakshmi: “Ipativaraku nee pellam bhayaanne chusav, ipudu asalaina aadadhaanni chusthav” (Up until now, you’ve only seen your wife’s fear, but now you’ll see an actual woman)
    When she gently probes about Meenakshi, YD Raju extensively confides in her – not out of openness, but because he assumes she’s harmless. The moment she expresses anger, it’s painted as a different side of her – as if rage and betrayal aren’t part of her reality. She even admits that she altered her approach to the conversation because she knew his honesty hinged on it. That’s not trust, it’s manipulation disguised as harmony.
• Personally, I would’ve loved a comedic repeat of Saikumar’s iconic dialogues. It was a wonderful throwback to honor his memorable acting. It’s unfortunate that his legacy was used for these weakly written characters and scenes.
• Using the son added more humor to the hospital scene – it does indeed layer onto the fact that YD Raju gives little regard for the girls and women in his life, including his three daughters.
• Lyricist Ananta Sriram’s cameo? Surprisingly enjoyable.

• Movie Rating: 1/10
• Maguva Impact Scale: -3