Is there a Telugu term for “friend zone?” I bet every culture in human existence has this term in some form or another. “Dudeth, you fought in the crusades to clear her father’s name; thou returned from the Holy Land presenting her with a sacred shroud and all she says is, ‘can you pick up the laundry?’ Thou art in the friendeth zone.”
Now, wait a sec. I have no intention of turning this into a misogynistic rant. I have no problem with the friend zone; although employed unevenly, it’s generally one of the best ways to even out sexual politics. I just say there has to be some communication between parties. If one of the players truly expects the other to drop everything and come running on demand, the demandee has to know exactly where they stand from a romantic POV.
That brings me to Rarandoi Veduka Chudham, a Tollywood film. Yes, Tollywood. That’s a thing, apparently. It’s like Bollywood, but the language is Telugu, third most
common among Indians. Act I is a wedding and the stage is set as random participant Shiva (Naga Chaitanya Akkineni, the Indian Jake Gyllenhaal) is immediately taken with random participant Bramarambha (Rakul Preet Singh). Ok, so they aren’t quite random, but you know how these things work, right? Shiva and Bramarambha Ram-a-lam-a-ding-dong are destined for one another because they’re the only
two good looking people in a cast of hundreds. At a wedding? Kind of embarrassing, especially with a blind arranged marriage – “oooh, check that guy out. Good golly, Benghali. Is that what I got? What? Brother-in-law? *sigh*”
If we focused on the bride, the probable aggravation of the moment would be compounded by the fact that Shiva goes into hero mode immediately to win Brama – he battles a cobra (and loses, but everybody else looked like a coward), he plays nice with every in-law, he delivers an absurd “it’s all good” condolence speech to an unknown relative, and he even jumps into a brutal village sporting event – some sort of combination Rollerball and tag-team wrestling thing … all so he can get on Brama’s radar.
There are two complications to Brama and Shiva; there would be more, but the film is a mere two-and-a-half hours. One is there’s bad blood between their parents. Second, and most important: Shiva gets on Brama’s radar, of course, but she places him in the friend zone, the ultimate romantic penalty box. Shiva is a special friend; he’ll come at the drop of a turban. Brama has no problem pulling Shiva out of sleep, shower, or business meetings at all hours to greet his harried chivalrous trek with, “I have a hangnail.” As I said before; I have no problem with this so long as Brama is clear to Shiva about the nature of their relationship. She isn’t. And you can’t just drag a sleeping guy 
100 miles out of his way so he can hold your place in a supermarket queue without letting him know explicitly, “BTW, I don’t want to date you.”
Rarandoi Veduka Chudham became very frustrating from a number of angles. One was the friend zone, another was the lack of communication between their feuding fathers, and a third was this picture’s constant desire to resort to kung fu mode. This is a romance; what’s with the street fighting? Why is it important that Shiva can channel Bruce Lee when needed? Is this part of being the god Shiva, “destroyer and transformer?” Well, Shiva-me-timbers, buddy, dudeth, if you’d thought to transform this Tollywood into 90 minutes of music and fun, you might have a winner. Otherwise, I think you have to speak Tegulu to enjoy this film.
♪Revvin’ up your engine
But she don’t want your howlin’ roar
Diffusing all the tension
“Wait. I need you at my door!”
Highway to the friendship zone
Forever you she’s gonna own♫
Not Rated, 145 Minutes
D: Kalyan Krishna
W: Kalyan Krishna, Satyanand
Genre: Delaying the inevitable until all the songs are done
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: Tollywood freaks
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: The impatient
♪ Parody inspired by “Danger Zone”
