Lenin movie review: Akhil Akkineni finds his footing in an intense but uneven rural drama

Director: Murali Kishor Abburu
Writer, screenplay and dialogues: Murali Kishor Abburu
Producers: Akkineni Nagarjuna and Suryadevara Naga Vamsi
Production banners: Manam Enterprises LLP and Sithara Entertainments
Cast: Akhil Akkineni, Bhagyashri Borse, Pramod Panju, Sivaji, Brahmaji and Easwari Rao
Music: S. Thaman
Editor: Navin Nooli
Language: Telugu
Genre: Rural action drama
Runtime: 2 hours, 39 minutes
Release date: July 10, 2026

There is a moment in Lenin when friendship stops feeling like protection and begins to resemble a battlefield. Director Murali Kishor Abburu builds his film around that transformation, using a rural love story and the symbolism of the Mahabharata to explore how affection, loyalty, and wounded pride can push people towards violence.

The ambition is evident. The emotional impact, however, is less consistent.

Set primarily in the fictional Andhra Pradesh village of Srirampuram, the story begins in 1976 with an orphaned boy being taken in by the village head’s family. He grows up to become Lenin, played by Akhil Akkineni. His life is shaped by his close bond with Vasanth, the elder son of the household, and by his relationship with Bharathi, played by Bhagyashri Borse.

The first half takes its time establishing the village, its families, rivalries, traditions and unwritten power structures. Lenin and Vasanth are presented not merely as friends but as brothers whose identities have become inseparable. Bharathi is positioned between their world of affection and the social expectations surrounding them.

This slow build gives the central relationships room to breathe, but it also makes the film feel longer than necessary. At 159 minutes, Lenin occasionally mistakes duration for depth. Some early scenes repeat emotional information the audience has already understood, while the romance could have benefited from greater complexity.

The narrative gathers momentum around the interval, when loyalties begin to fracture, and the film reveals the conflict it has been carefully preparing. What begins as a warm rural drama turns into an emotionally charged story of love, betrayal and revenge.

Abburu uses the village’s Bharatham Jatara, a festival connected to Draupadi Amman, as both the physical setting and the mythological framework for the conflict. The parallels to the Mahabharata are deliberate rather than incidental. The village becomes a modern Kurukshetra, and the characters are forced to choose between personal affection, family loyalty and social duty.

This is where Lenin is at its most interesting. The film understands that tragedy does not always begin with hatred. Sometimes it grows from love, entitlement and the inability to accept another person’s choice.

However, the screenplay does not always trust the strength of that idea. The second half increasingly turns towards familiar revenge-drama conventions, heightened confrontations and revelations designed to provoke applause. The mythology remains compelling, but some of the commercial elements make the conflict feel more predictable than profound.

Akhil Akkineni gives the film its emotional and physical centre. His performance is restrained in the quieter passages and forceful when Lenin’s anger takes control. There is a welcome earthiness to his screen presence here, far removed from the polished romantic-hero image associated with some of his earlier work.

He is especially effective when Lenin is caught between gratitude and resentment. The performance suggests that his anger is not simply a response to betrayal; it comes from the fear of losing the family, friendship and identity on which his entire life has been built.

This is among Akhil’s most convincing performances. He appears comfortable with the film’s physical demands but does not allow the action to overwhelm the character.

Bhagyashri Borse brings dignity and quiet strength to Bharathi. She avoids playing the character as a passive object of conflict, even though the writing does not always give her enough control over the narrative. Bharathi is central to the choices made by the men around her, yet the film could have spent more time examining her own emotional consequences.

Pramod Panju, as Vasanth, emerges as one of the film’s strongest performers. He gives the friendship at the centre of the story credibility and ensures that its eventual fracture carries emotional weight. Sivaji and Brahmaji add authority to the village politics, while Easwari Rao grounds the family portions with an understated performance.

S. Thaman’s music works best when it draws from the film’s folk and rural setting. The background score gives scale to the confrontations without completely overpowering them. The songs generally belong within the world of the film, although a few musical stretches contribute to the uneven pacing.

Navin Nooli’s editing is sharpest around the pre-interval and interval portions, where the story moves with clarity and purpose. The later sections are less controlled, with some dramatic scenes continuing after they have already made their point.

The cinematography captures the dust, heat, crowds and ritualistic energy of village life. Rather than presenting rural Andhra Pradesh as a decorative backdrop, the film treats the village as an active force shaping the characters’ identities and choices.

The use of Jr NTR’s voiceover at selected moments gives the narrative additional scale. It is employed sparingly, which prevents it from feeling like a promotional distraction.

The central weakness of Lenin is not a lack of emotion but an excess of familiar storytelling. The film has an intriguing premise, committed performances and a strong mythological foundation, but it repeatedly returns to conventional revenge-drama devices.

There is also a tension between the film’s intimate emotional story and its desire to deliver a large commercial spectacle. The quieter scenes of friendship and belonging are often more powerful than the elaborate confrontations. When the film allows its characters to sit with their pain, it feels sincere. When it begins underlining every emotion, it becomes less effective.

Verdict

Lenin is a sincere, ambitious rural drama that uses the Mahabharata as more than a surface-level reference. Murali Kishor Abburu creates a convincing world of friendship, family politics and wounded loyalty, while Akhil Akkineni delivers one of his most grounded performances.

The lengthy runtime, predictable revenge elements and uneven second half prevent the film from becoming the emotionally devastating tragedy it wants to be. Still, its performances, rooted setting and mythological conviction make it a worthwhile theatrical watch for audiences who enjoy intense, character-driven Telugu dramas.

Rating: 3 out of 5