Story
In a remote Telangana village during the 1980s, Gangadhari (Yuva Chandraa) comes from a family entrusted with guarding sacred sheep. The village head, Patel (Ajay), is a cunning man who aims to keep lower-caste villagers uneducated, fearing that education might disrupt the oppressive social order he benefits from. To maintain control, Patel even resorts to murder, pretending to be possessed by the goddess Balamma to manipulate the villagers for his own purposes. Gangadhari, however, is determined to educate his daughter, Saraswathi (Baby Thanasvi). But when his sacred sheep goes missing, he must recover it before the upcoming Balamma event. The story unfolds as he races against time to find the goat.

Artists Performance

Yuva Chandraa delivers a standout performance as a father determined to get his child into school, with two distinct looks - one bearded and one clean-shaven. Ananya Nagalla impresses in her rustic role, especially in scenes where she confronts Patel. Ajay is excellent in his well-crafted role, even donning a saree in some scenes to capture the authentic look of a possessed man. Noel Sean has an extended role and truly shines, while Srikanth Iyengar is commendable as a greedy schoolteacher who eventually realizes his mistakes. Baby Thanasvi is natural and captivating whenever she's on screen. Most of the cast is local, and they all deliver solid performances.

Story - screenplay - direction: Sahit Mothkhuri crafts a compelling story of caste oppression and a father’s relentless drive to educate his daughter, set against the backdrop of the 1980s. The director cleverly situates the narrative in this period, as it coincides with NTR's rise to power and the abolition of the Karanam/Patel system, adding to the villain's frustration—who, as a Patel, becomes determined to block lower-caste communities from gaining education. The movie opens intriguingly, with Patel blinding Gangadhari and challenging him to find the sheep. As we delve into the flashback, we’re introduced to Gangadhari's family, who have long protected sacred sheep for the goddess Balamma's event, held every 12 years. The director keeps the story closely tied to its central theme without unnecessary digressions, but the tone leans heavily serious, and the latter part of the second half becomes intensely violent. While the climax is impactful, the screenplay in the final act can be a bit confusing, with noticeable influences from Tamil directors like Vetrimaaran and Mari Selvaraj, known for their work on Dalit oppression. One might also wonder about the absence of police in the story, and in rural Telangana, there were often Naxalites who opposed feudal landlords who oppressed locals. The village setting feels isolated, as if cut off entirely from the outside world. A smoother screenplay and more organic emotions in the second half could have enhanced the experience.

Other departments: Shekar Chandra’s music is a major highlight, with Penchal Das’s song standing out beautifully. The track that plays during Patel’s possession scene is particularly extraordinary, and the background score enhances the mood effectively. Monish Bhupathi Raju’s cinematography captures the rustic essence of the setting, while Narni Srinivas’s production design perfectly recreates the 1980s village atmosphere. The action sequences by Pruthvi and Rabin Subbu feel authentic, and Karthika Srinivas’s editing is fine. Nishank Reddy Kudithi and Suresh Kumar Sadige provide excellent production values throughout.

Analysis: Pottel has a strong storyline with a noble intent, making it an honest film. There are a few heartwarming and impactful scenes, though the narration feels overly heavy, and the second half becomes predictable. While the classic theme of feudal oppression is woven with a (Dalit) child’s education, the emotions should have worked in a few key scenes. Nonetheless, it earns some browny points for its sincerity and purpose, with strong technical technical values.