The Paradise Review: Nani's Furious 2026 Epic

We're dropped into 1980s Secunderabad, where a marginalised tribe lives on the edges - of the city, of the economy, of the law itself. They're denied citizenship, denied dignity, denied the basic paperwork that makes a person real in the eyes of the state. Enter Sarakka, nicknamed "Jadal" and played by Nani, who becomes an unexpected leader for a people who've never had one. He's not a polished revolutionary. He's scrappy, stubborn, and learning on the job.

Standing in his way is Shikanja Maalik, played with booming, theatrical menace by the legendary Mohan Babu, and his son Vikram, a genuinely unsettling Raghav Juyal. Kayadu Lohar's Subbulakshmi - "Subbu" - brings heart and steel to the proceedings, while Sonali Kulkarni's Sammakka and Sampoornesh Babu's scene-stealing Biriyani round out a stacked ensemble. The fight isn't just for land or money - it's for the right to exist on paper, which makes every skirmish feel existential.

Let's start with the obvious: Nani is transformed. There's no trace of the lovable boy-next-door here. Sarakka is wiry, wounded, and unpredictable - a leader who stumbles into leadership because nobody else will do it. Nani plays him with a coiled stillness that explodes into violence at exactly the right moments. The interval block is a genuine gut-punch, and it works because we've spent an hour watching this man swallow his own fury.

Odela directs like a man with something to prove. The frames are sun-baked and dusty, the sound design rattles your ribs, and the action has a brutal, close-quarters physicality that recalls the best of the genre. There's an early sequence involving a census ledger that's staged like a heist, and it's the smartest thing in the film - bureaucracy as battlefield. That's the movie's real thesis: in this world, a signature can cut deeper than a knife.

But 174 minutes is 174 minutes. The second half sags noticeably, with a stretch of repetitive confrontations that could've lost fifteen minutes without anyone noticing. Mohan Babu is having a blast, but his villain is written in broader strokes than the film deserves - he bellows where he could've whispered. Raghav Juyal, by contrast, is quietly terrifying and steals every scene he's in. Kayadu Lohar gets less to do than her character promises, which is a genuine frustration.

And then there's the tonal whiplash. Sampoornesh Babu's Biriyani provides comic relief that occasionally undercuts the tension rather than easing it. When a film is this committed to its rage, a comedic detour can feel like someone hitting pause on a heart attack.

Still, when The Paradise works, it works. The climax is operatic, the final image lingers, and there's a monologue from Nani late in the third act about what it means to belong to a country that refuses to count you - it lands like a sledgehammer.

Pros:

• Nani delivers a career-best, fully committed performance
• Srikanth Odela's raw, visceral direction and striking visuals
• Raghav Juyal is a genuinely chilling antagonist
• The citizenship-as-battlefield conceit is smart and timely

Cons:

• Bloated 174-minute runtime with a sagging second half
• Mohan Babu's villain is written too broadly
• Tonal shifts between drama and comedy don't always land
• Kayadu Lohar is underutilised

The Paradise is an imperfect, ambitious beast - the kind of film that swings so hard it sometimes misses, but you respect the swing. Nani's Sarakka is a performance that demands to be seen on the biggest screen you can find, and Odela confirms he's one of the most exciting voices working today. Trim twenty minutes and you'd have something approaching great. As it stands, it's a flawed but ferocious watch that leaves a mark. Catch it in theatres - just hit the restroom before the second half.