Pallaburusu (Toothbrush) 2026 Review - Uday Chauhan's

Seventy-year-old Shamboo (Sudhakar Reddy) has a throbbing toothache. He doesn’t want a doctor, a home remedy, or sympathy. He wants a toothbrush - specifically, a soft-bristled one, the kind his late wife used to buy. He asks his son Tirupathi (Muralidhar Goud), a middle-aged man drowning in his own petty work dramas, to pick one up from the shop down the street. Simple, right? Tirupathi forgets. Then he postpones. Then he buys the wrong brand. Then he argues about the price. And with each failed attempt, the toothbrush transforms from a household object into a symbol of everything Shamboo feels he’s lost: respect, attention, and the quiet assurance that he still matters. The plot spirals into a series of misadventures involving a stolen scooter, a mistaken funeral, a neighbourhood gossip who complicates every interaction, and a final confrontation that forces both men to say the things they’ve buried for decades.

The genius of Pallaburusu lies in its refusal to make anyone the villain. Tirupathi isn’t cruel; he’s just tired. He juggles a demanding boss, a wife (Gomathy Reddy’s Swetha) who handles every household crisis with weary grace, and a son, Raviga (Prajwal Yadma), who treats his grandfather like a relic. Chauhan’s screenplay paints Tirupathi’s forgetfulness as a symptom of a life where everyone demands something from him - and where his father, ironically, demands the least but needs it the most. Meanwhile, Shamboo’s stubbornness isn’t senility; it’s the last shred of control a widower clings to. Sudhakar Reddy delivers a career-best performance here. His Shamboo shuffles, mutters, and glares with a comic timing that never betrays the grief underneath. When he tells his son, “I don’t need a servant. I need a son who remembers me,” the line lands like a hammer.

Muralidhar Goud matches him beat for beat. Tirupathi’s frustration is palpable - you feel his exasperation when he shouts, “It’s just a toothbrush, Appa!” - but Goud always lets a flicker of guilt pass through his eyes before the anger takes over. The film’s best scenes are the quiet ones: a shared meal where neither man speaks, a rain-soaked night where Tirupathi watches his father struggle with his slippers, a phone call that goes unanswered. Chauhan trusts his actors and his silences, and the result is a drama that feels lived-in rather than performed.

The comedy, when it works, is delightfully cringe-inducing. A sequence where Tirupathi buys a children’s strawberry-flavoured brush by mistake leads to a genuinely hilarious argument at a bus stop. But the film sometimes leans too hard on the “father is a nuisance” trope. A prolonged subplot involving a lost pension book drags, and the neighbour’s constant commentary grows tiresome by the second hour. The pacing stumbles in the middle, when the escalating events start to feel less like a natural snowball and more like a checklist of misunderstandings. Still, Chauhan pulls the threads together for a finale that avoids cheap melodrama. The last twenty minutes shift tone masterfully - the toothbrush finally gets bought, but by then, no one cares about the object. They care about what it represents. And when Shamboo quietly says, “I don’t need it anymore. I just needed you to try,” the film earns its tears.

Technically, the movie is restrained but effective. The cinematography favours close-ups of weathered hands, half-empty teacups, and the father’s lonely bed. The score underplays the emotional beats, which helps the drama breathe. Telugu audiences used to loud, over-the-top family sagas will find this refreshingly subdued - though some might crave a bigger musical moment. The runtime could be trimmed by fifteen minutes without losing anything essential.

Pros

• Sudhakar Reddy’s layered, deeply human performance as Shamboo
• Sharp, naturalistic dialogue that avoids exposition dumps
• A final act that earns its emotional weight without manipulation
• Realistic portrayal of middle-class Indian family dynamics
• Strong chemistry between Reddy and Goud

Cons

• Repetitive middle section with a subplot that overstays its welcome
• Supporting characters like the neighbour are one-note
• Some comedic escalations feel forced and sitcom-ish
• Slightly overlong runtime for the story being told

Pallaburusu is a small film with a big ache. It’s not a laugh riot, nor is it a tearjerker - it’s a truthful portrait of how love gets buried under obligation, and how a single forgotten promise can crack a relationship wide open. The film’s greatest strength is its refusal to demonise either party. Tirupathi isn’t a bad son; he’s a tired one. Shamboo isn’t a burden; he’s a man who has run out of ways to ask for care. Uday Chauhan has made a movie that will make you call your father - not to apologise, but to listen. For that alone, it deserves your time. And yes, you might never look at a toothbrush the same way again.