Director Phanindra Narsetti’s 8 Vasantalu possesses attributes rare for most Telugu films lately — ambition, conviction, and a distinct sense of originality. It seeks to be a meditative tale that charts the evolution of a girl through love. Mounted on a dreamy canvas, set in a mist-laden Ooty, narrated across seasons, Nature remains witness to her story, and the film aspires to be poetry in motion.
The protagonist, Shuddhi Ayodhya (Ananthika Sanilkumar), is also a 17-year-old poet who learns martial arts from an ailing guru. The director flips the gender dynamic in an opening sequence reminiscent of a quintessential mass film. Shuddhi puts a brash US-returnee, Varun (Hanu Reddy), in his place after he claims that embroidery is a woman’s domain and martial arts are best left to men.
His sexist remark is met with a sharp thud, the message is clear. Yet, she also reminds him that real strength lies in self-restraint. And, the boy is smitten. But Shuddhi isn’t your average teenager. She’s already the author of a bestselling poetry collection and is on a two-year journey across India to write a book, a plea to the world to appreciate a woman for her virtues rather than her appearance.
8 Vasantalu (Telugu)
Director: Phanindra Narsetti
Cast: Ananthika Sanilkumar, Hanu Reddy, Ravi Duggirala
Run time: 140 minutes
Story: An idealistic teenager comes of age, falling in and out of love
Other characters also make their presence felt. Shuddhi’s friend Karthik (Kanna) has a passion for shoe design, much to the disapproval of his orthodox father. Varun, while leading the life his father had only dreamt of, is crumbling under the pressure of fulfilling that wish, securing admission to Berklee. His father takes a loan from a friend to fund his son’s luxurious lifestyle.
Barring an underdeveloped female character named Anita, the director makes a sincere attempt to flesh out his characters’ ideals and inner worlds. While the stories of the men (Karthik, Varun and Sanjay who appears later) are endearing and display some vulnerability, Shuddhi is too idealistic, sorted, and overachieving for a teenager. Almost no setback dents her spirit.
While the plot has all the ingredients of a sweeping romance told through the lens of a woman who is worthy of admiration, the storytelling lacks grounding, and the impact is diluted by self-indulgent dialogue. Every event becomes an excuse to reinforce Shuddhi’s unwavering spirit, a pursuit that grows tiring after a point.
It’s hard not to appreciate the pre-interval sequence where Shuddhi speaks of how her mother raised her like a queen, and why she deserves to be treated with dignity (in a breakup). Moments later, at a funeral, she questions the patriarchy, pointing out the irony of a woman, capable of giving birth, being barred from performing final rites.
Pertinent points are raised throughout the film, but they often land flat cinematically. The film finds its footing in a striking action sequence in Varanasi, where Shuddhi unshackles the beast within. All hell breaks loose as the motifs of a tigress and Durga roar to life. Her profound reflections at the Taj Mahal are potent in thought, but their impact is dulled by excess dialogue.
Shuddhi’s love stories with Varun and the Telugu author Sanjay (Ravi Duggirala) have interesting parallels. However, with Sanjay, the director goes overboard in validating his ideas and belief systems.
The metafictional subplot around Sanjay’s novel Rani Malini (about a prostitute who reclaims her agency) is ideologically compelling but disrupts the film’s momentum. The narrative eventually regains some lost ground with Sanjay’s poignant backstory, with a surprise twist, offering a nostalgic nod to the era of love letters and providing insight into the title.
Amid all the tall standards the protagonist sets for herself, it’s difficult to imagine why she would entertain her mother’s idea to marry into a wealthy family, albeit reluctantly. Despite its shortcomings, 8 Vasantalu isn’t a lazy effort. It has a surreal visual texture (cinematography by Vishwanath Reddy) and a story that has a lot to unpack; just that the balance doesn’t come through effectively.
For instance, the parallel shots of Varun and Shuddhi spending sleepless nights as they come to terms with their feelings for each other are a sight to behold. The imagery of a fallen rose petal, symbolising how love breaks and heals Shuddhi, is quietly poignant. Even the title credits, where her journey is shown in reverse, linger long after the film ends.
Much like the director’s earlier film Manu, it doesn’t know where to stop. While his debut effort was way more cinematically rich, the bloated writing in 8 Vasantalu, where the conversations sound like discourses, dents the overall impact.
Conceptually, the film’s characters, at times, feel like figments of the writer’s imagination rather than beings of flesh and blood, ones we struggle to identify with. Though the little details that complete their world are impressive, more effort could have gone into integrating them with the narrative seamlessly. Even the visuals of Ooty, Kashmir, get a tad too touristy.
Ananthika Sanilkumar gracefully embodies the fiery spirit that Shuddhi is, making every attempt to internalise her resilience and trauma. Hanu Reddy, as the hopelessly lovestruck teenager, has a raw, captivating screen presence. Ravi Duggirala’s character graph is impressive, though his performance has scope for improvement. Kanna Pasunoori is a fine find, and Sanjana Hardageri shows promise in an underwrought part.
It’s surprising that a love story with a plethora of emotions has only two songs, composed by Hesham Abdul Wahab, as part of its album. ‘Parichayamila’, sung by K. S. Chitra, is a melody for the ages. The vibrant, varied costumes, in sync with the film’s mood, are another high point.
Despite its merits, 8 Vasantalu is like a poem that’s too conscious of its style, overstuffed at times, right in its intent but lacking in warmth.
