A poorly written action drama that mistakes loud elevations for engaging storytelling, Lenin ends up being an exhausting cinematic experience.
Lenin Movie review by Kausalya Rachavelpula
Some films deserve the benefit of the doubt. Lenin politely declined it. The warning signs appeared during the promotional campaign itself, and sadly, the film lives up to every one of them.
The earliest red flag wasn’t the trailer or the promotional content, it was the film’s own explanation for its title. During a press meet, when asked why the film was called Lenin, the makers explained that since the story is set in Rayalaseema, where people are often named Lenin or Stalin without any political inclination, they simply heard the names, liked one of them, and chose it for the film. There was no thematic relevance, no symbolic intent, and no narrative reasoning behind the title. Ironically, that casual explanation perfectly captures the film itself. Random choices stitched together without purpose, hoping they somehow become meaningful on screen. If the title, the identity of a film, was chosen with such little conviction, the screenplay follows the exact same philosophy.
That creative emptiness seeps into every frame of Lenin. Starring Akhil Akkineni, Bhaagyashri Borse, Shivaji, Pramod Panju, and Eashwari Rao, the film mistakes loud background scores, exaggerated elevations, and endless slow-motion shots for compelling cinema. Instead of telling an engaging story, it keeps reminding the audience that it’s trying very hard to feel larger than life.
The screenplay is where the film completely loses its way. Every scene feels assembled from the oldest commercial cinema template without a single fresh idea to justify its existence. The makers repeatedly attempt to borrow emotional gravitas by drawing parallels with Karna and Duryodhana from the Mahabharata. But mythology is not a shortcut to emotional depth. Referencing legendary friendships means little when the characters themselves are written without conviction. The comparisons remain superficial, making every emotional beat feel forced rather than earned.
Watching Lenin, one question keeps surfacing: what exactly happened during the story discussions? How did this screenplay survive multiple narration sessions without anyone pointing out its glaring lack of originality or coherence? The narrative starts somewhere, drifts aimlessly through disconnected episodes, and finally reaches a conclusion that feels less like a destination and more like the screenplay simply running out of pages.
The pacing only makes matters worse. The film drags relentlessly, stuffing itself with prolonged hero walks, repetitive slow-motion shots, and action episodes that contribute almost nothing to the narrative. Instead of building momentum, these sequences repeatedly bring the story to a standstill. What should have been an engaging commercial entertainer slowly turns into an endurance test.
The action choreography is equally disappointing. There is neither technical finesse nor creative staging to make the fights memorable. Rather than allowing action to emerge naturally from the story, the screenplay appears to exist solely to connect one fight sequence to another. The result is a series of loud but lifeless action blocks that quickly become monotonous.
Akhil Akkineni puts in visible effort, but sincere performances cannot rescue underwritten characters. The screenplay protects its hero with the oldest commercial cinema logic imaginable. Everyone else can be killed without hesitation, but the protagonist survives every impossible situation simply because he is the hero. Such convenient writing removes any sense of danger or unpredictability, making the conflicts feel completely artificial.
Bhaagyashri Borse is left with little scope to make an impact, while Shivaji, Pramod Panju, and Eashwari Rao perform within the limitations of roles that never receive meaningful development. Even the antagonist lacks the menace required to elevate the central conflict, making the film’s confrontations surprisingly flat.
Ultimately, Lenin feels like a relic of an era when hero worship alone was expected to carry a film. It leans heavily on lineage-driven stardom, outdated commercial formulas, and exaggerated elevations while neglecting the one thing audiences genuinely seek, a story worth investing in. Neither mythology, nor action, nor loud background scores can inject soul into a screenplay that never had one.
Lenin is an example of style overwhelming substance. Weak writing, endless lag, uninspired action, and superficial emotional beats combine to create a film that is not just boring, but creatively hollow from beginning to end.
