‘Court’ movie review: Priyadarshi leads a compelling drama

‘Court’ Telugu movie review: Priyadarshi leads a compelling drama directed by Ram Jagadeesh

The strength of Court: State Vs a Nobody, debut director Ram Jagadeesh’s Telugu film, lies in its simple yet powerful truth —that the world would be a better place if those in power carried out their duties with sincerity. In this case, the focus is on the judiciary. Through an underdog narrative, Ram, along with co-writers Karthik and Vamsi, highlights how empathy can help deliver justice, regardless of social standing. The drama is anchored by Priyadarshi Pulikonda’s wonderfully restrained performance.

The plot is straightforward. Nineteen-year-old Chandrashekhar (Harsh Roshan) falls in love with Jabili (Sridevi), 17. He is the son of a watchman, while she comes from a wealthy background. When her domineering uncle, Mangapathi (Sivaji), discovers their relationship, chaos ensues. Chandrashekhar is slapped with multiple charges, including under the POCSO Act (Protection of Children from Sexual Offences). The year is 2013, just a year after the Act was introduced.

Without wasting time, the narrative introduces several characters. Their family equations, struggles and character traits are revealed. We understand the control Mangapathi exercises over a family and how far he can go for the purported ‘family honour’. The smaller moments showcase how Jabili and her mother (Rohini) react. Paralelly, junior lawyer Surya Teja (Priyadarshi) has been waiting to take up a case on his own for three years. His brief conversation with his mother is enough to highlight his urge to make a mark.

Ram Jagadeesh unpacks the story detail by detail, aided by Dinesh Purushothaman’s cinematography. The visuals never indulge in showcasing Visakhapatnam’s picturesque beauty; instead, they favour wide frames sparingly, keeping the focus on the characters and ensuring the audience’s attention never wavers. The authenticity of Vithal Kosanam’s production design makes the homes and courtroom feel lived-in. Vijai Bulganin’s evocative score further enhances the narrative, leaning on string instruments, often paying homage to maestro Ilaiyaraaja. However, at times, the background score feels preemptive, where moments of silence may have been more effective.

The film’s technical finesse complements the storytelling. Anyone familiar with courtroom dramas can anticipate the turning point — the moment the junior lawyer takes charge. Yet, when it happens, it is hard not to cheer. In fact, the audience did just that, applauding as the film progressed.

The first hour of court proceedings unfolds like a precarious stack of cards. As the corrupt nexus between Mangapathi, the police, and the public prosecutor (played with precision by Harshavardhan) unravels, it seems obvious that even the judge can see through the flimsy, assumption-based accusations. In these portions, the writing feels convenient, at times contrived.

Questions naturally arise — will the boy ever plead for help? Won’t a simple cross-examination expose the truth? Yet, as the story unfolds, it becomes clear that its purpose is to highlight the role of empathy in uncovering justice. It asks whether an underprivileged victim stands a chance at fair representation, free from intimidation or coercion.