Naari Naari Naduma Murari (2026) - Ram Abbaraju Film

The sun was still climbing over Hyderabad on the morning of January 14th, but the queues outside the multiplexes told a story of their own. Families, college groups, and even a few office-goers who had clearly called in sick were all there for the same reason: to see if Sharwanand’s latest gamble would pay off. By the time the end credits rolled, the verdict was in - not unanimous, but warm. Naari Naari Naduma Murari is not a film that reinvents the wheel. It’s a film that simply makes you enjoy the ride on it, flat tires and all.

Directed by Ram Abbaraju, this 143-minute romantic dramedy drops a young man named Potlakayala Gowtham into the kind of mess that would make a soap opera writer blush. Gowtham, played with his usual boyish charm by Sharwanand, is a man who likes his life simple - until it isn’t. He meets Vedula Nithya (Sakshi Vaidya), a woman with a sharp tongue and a softer heart, and then there’s Dia Kakarla (Samyuktha), who is everything Nithya is not: spontaneous, unpredictable, and dangerously fun. Caught between the practical and the exhilarating, Gowtham does what any sensible man would do - he tries to have it both ways, and of course, it all collapses around him.

What elevates this familiar premise is the screenplay’s insistence on making the women more than just plot devices. Nithya is not the jealous girlfriend; she’s a woman who has built her life on order, and Gowtham’s chaos is both her attraction and her headache. Dia is not the manipulative seductress; she’s a free spirit who doesn’t realise she’s stepping on someone else’s feelings until it’s too late. The real conflict isn’t “who will he choose?” but “why did he think he had the right to choose at all?” That subtle shift in perspective gives the film a maturity that its marketing trailer didn’t quite promise.

Ram Abbaraju, known for his ability to balance laughs with lump-in-your-throat moments, takes his time in the first half. He lets the comedy breathe, thanks largely to a supporting cast that feels like a Telugu comedy hall of fame reunion. Vennela Kishore as Gunasekhar, the friend who gives terrible advice with absolute confidence, steals every scene he’s in. Satya as Lovekusa is the kind of sidekick who exists only to make things worse, and he does so with gleeful precision. Then there’s the veteran Naresh as Gowtham’s brother Potlakayala Karthik, who delivers the film’s most grounded performance - a man who has already made his mistakes and sees his younger brother heading down the same path.

The drama, when it arrives, doesn’t hit you over the head. It creeps in during a dinner scene where Nithya’s father, Adv. Vedula Ramalingaiah (a commanding Sampath Raj), lays out the cost of his daughter’s choices in a quiet, legalistic monologue. It builds when Srikanth Iyengar, playing Dia’s father, gives a single look that says more than any shouting match could. These are actors who understand that the biggest explosions happen in silence.

Samyuktha, returning to Telugu cinema after a string of pan-Indian projects, brings a physicality to Dia that makes her scenes crackle with energy. She’s never still, always shifting, always on the verge of running away - until she realises that running is the one thing she doesn’t want to do anymore. Sakshi Vaidya, meanwhile, plays Nithya with a taut, controlled fury that slowly unravels. There’s one sequence, set in a rain-soaked auto-rickshaw, where she doesn’t say a single word for nearly three minutes. Her eyes do all the acting, and it’s the closest the film comes to greatness.

Does Naari Naari Naduma Murari have problems? Certainly. The middle act sags under repetitive misunderstandings. A subplot involving a loan shark feels like it was transplanted from a different movie. And the climax, while emotionally satisfying, resolves a little too neatly, as if the screenwriter wanted to wrap up all the loose ends before the tea went cold. The pacing, at 143 minutes, could have used a trim of about fifteen minutes.

But here’s the thing about this film: it has a heart that’s hard to ignore. The title, which loosely translates to “Woman, Woman, In Between Murari,” playfully references the mythological Krishna, and the film leans into that metaphor without ever beating you over the head with it. Gowtham is no divine lover; he’s just a man who learns that love isn’t about choice - it’s about commitment.

The ratings reflect that divide: a 6.3 from critics on TMDb and a slightly more forgiving 6.5 from audiences on IMDb. You’ll find viewers who call it a pleasant time-filler and those who call it a failed attempt at modern romance. Both are right, in their way. But on a hot January afternoon, sitting in a packed theatre, hearing the collective gasp when the truth comes out and the belly laughs during Vennela Kishore’s stand-up-style rant, it’s hard to deny that Abbaraju knows his audience.

Naari Naari Naduma Murari isn’t asking to be remembered as a classic. It’s asking for a chance. And for most people who walk in with an open mind, it delivers exactly what it promises: a love triangle that makes you laugh, makes you think, and makes you wonder if we’ve all been a little unfair to the Gowthams of the world. Maybe the real question isn’t who he chooses. Maybe it’s why we keep watching the same story, hoping this time it’ll turn out differently for him. The answer might be that deep down, we all want to believe that getting caught between two hearts doesn’t have to be a tragedy. Sometimes, it’s just the messy, beautiful prelude to growing up.