‘Sri Chidambaram Garu’ movie review: Debut director Vinay Ratnam’s Telugu film is a refreshing tale of self-discovery

Spectacles have often served as a captivating narrative device in cinema. In the Nani-starrer Yevade Subramanyam, they were a protagonist’s desperate tool to be taken seriously in elite circles. In Ee Nagaraniki Emaindi, Vishwak Sen wore them as a mask to weather heartbreak. In this week’s release, Sri Chidambaram Garu, a man with a squint uses sunglasses to conceal deep-rooted insecurity about his appearance.

Interestingly, despite the films’ contrasting backdrops, removing the spectacles in all these stories represents an act of letting go, of coming to terms with oneself. In a nutshell, debut director Vinay Ratnam’s Telugu film Sri Chidambaram Garu is a story of self-discovery that follows a youngster as he frees himself from the mental roadblocks that have tormented him all his life. An idyllic love story serves as a catalyst for his transformation.

Solomon (Vamsi Tummala), addressed as Chidambaram by his fellow villagers owing to his squint, abandons his education after a childhood tragedy. He works as a construction labourer , supporting his mother and gradually clearing the debts left behind by his late father. As Solomon’s squint becomes a constant source of ridicule, he allows himself to be defined by it rather than standing up for himself.

He finds a surprising ally in Leela (Sandhya Vasishta), a spirited neighbour and former classmate. As Solomon and Leela try to move their relationship forward, a simple question from his love interest hits a raw nerve: “How can I trust someone with love when they do not even love themselves?” It pushes him to take drastic decisions that trigger a psychological awakening of sorts.

Set in a quaint village in Rajahmundry, Vinay’s film is a rare, appreciable attempt at chronicling the lives of the Christian community in the countryside of Andhra Pradesh, without reducing them to caricatures for comic effect. It explores a region, its mundanity, and its cultural landscape through a fresher lens.

Vamsi Tummala and Sandhya in the film
| Photo Credit:
Special Arrangement

It’s a village where toilets may not be commonplace (a reality that turns into a nuisance for the women), yet boasts a bounty of natural riches. The mist-laden mornings are a sight to behold; men and women dream big, seated on benches overlooking surreal views from hilltops. The breathtaking sunsets, pathways, and bridges enveloped by lakes give reason to cheer. The cinematography (by Akshay Ram Podishetti) encompasses these intimate details with such delicacy.

With a wafer-thin storyline tracing the protagonist’s inward journey, the film regularly risks lingering too long in the moment. Considerable time is spent tapping into Solomon’s vulnerabilities across various phases, in the company of his mother, his love interest, fellow villagers, and well-wishers. The breezy romance provides a cushion, distracting us from the plot’s minimal progress.

Though this is essentially Solomon’s story, Leela’s resilience gives it the required edge. She swears by her loved ones at all costs, knows how to guard herself, and has a voice of her own, firm about what she expects from a partner. Similarly, the mothers of both protagonists display significant agency, keeping both their wards and troublesome villagers at bay whenever the situation demands.

The integrity of the writing is evident in Solomon’s transformative phase, one in which he seeks refuge in religion as a quick-fix solution, and in the subplot involving his friend, Anil (which could still have been fleshed out better). While the life lessons strike a chord, the director tends to verbalise the messages too much, rather than allowing the character to introspect in silence.

The tension in the second hour is effectively heightened by juxtaposing the lives of Solomon and his father. The Rajahmundry setting, with its bridges, Godavari river and the railway tracks, craftily externalises the crossroads in his life. 

The heart of the film is about his refusal to wallow in self-pity, treating the world with a pinch of salt. The ending emphasises this particularly well, as Solomon confronts the retorts of naysayers without losing his cool. The call for all the ‘Chidambarams’ to refuse to let their imperfections define them is delivered on an empathetic note.

Sri Chidambaram Garu is a breath of fresh air because it lets the characters become instruments in driving an honest story forward. The naivety, partly intended and partly unintentional, is its secret sauce, helping one overlook the uneventful stretches. It breaks away from persistent storytelling patterns with conviction.

The freshness in the casting proves a fair advantage. Vamsi Tummala plays the vulnerable Solomon with refreshing tenderness, while Sandhya Vasishta embodies Leela’s firebrand energy with verve. Sivakumar Matta impresses as the supportive sidekick, but much of the emotional weight comes from Kalpalatha Garllapati and Tulasi’s performances. Gopinath’s antics leave us amused more often than not. Amid the raw newcomer energy, the sophistication in the soundtrack by Chandu-Ravi and the visuals lend a wider appeal. 

The film, a moving tale of self-discovery, works as a fine companion piece to under-appreciated 2025 rural dramas like Kanya Kumari and The Great Pre-Wedding Show, which also showcased oft-explored backdrops through an insider’s eye, bustling with energy and free from stereotypes. It’s told with an authenticity and simplicity that mainstream cinema generally sacrifices to cater to a wider audience.

Published – February 06, 2026 10:18 am IST