In a 2025 Telugu film line-up packed with big action films and glossy love stories, Santhana Prapthirasthu turns up as something smaller, odder, and quietly brave. Directed by Sanjeev Reddy, this modest rom-com drama takes on male infertility, a subject many families treat like a dark secret, and wraps it in humour, warmth, and just the right amount of awkwardness.
Released on 14 November 2025 under Madhura Entertainment and Nirvi Arts, the film runs for 2 hours and 19 minutes and carries a UA certificate, so it is mostly safe for a family outing. It does not change Telugu cinema overnight, but it does something rare: it makes conversations about reproductive health feel normal, even when you are laughing at the chaos on screen.
Think of it as Vicky Donor crossed with a noisy Telugu family drama, only with more software engineers and fewer clinic visits. As a weekend watch, it works well enough and leaves you thinking about how much weight we give to children and bloodlines in Indian families.
Santhana Prapthirasthu: Charm, Timing, and a Strong Supporting Team
This film is not about star power. Its biggest strength is a cast that feels natural and unshowy.
Vikranth leads as Chaitanya (Chaitu), an orphaned software engineer trying to balance love, work, and the sudden pressure to become a father. Coming off his success in Tamil cinema, he brings an easy simplicity to the character. His reactions in the hospital scenes, full of panic and embarrassment, land both the laughs and the emotion without becoming loud or overwrought.
Chandini Chowdary plays Kalyani, a spirited young woman from Warangal. She begins as a rebellious bride who runs away to marry for love, then slowly turns into a steady, supportive partner. The change feels smooth and believable. Known for roles in films like Manasu Malligey and comedies in the style of Jathi Ratnalu, Chandini gives Kalyani quiet strength and makes her more than just the hero’s wife. She grounds the film when things get too silly.
The real joy, though, comes from the supporting cast. Muralidhar Goud is outstanding as Eshwarao, Kalyani’s father. He is a widowed farmer, loving but stubborn, and he is determined to break this marriage if his conditions are not met. His schemes, from fake exorcisms to absurd tricks with food, give the film its loudest laughs. His comic timing is sharp, and even when he behaves badly, you still enjoy watching him.
Vennela Kishore and Tharun Bhascker play Chaitanya’s co-workers and bring extra flavour. Kishore’s dry one-liners bounce nicely off Bhascker’s over-dramatic “tough guy” act, which slowly reveals a soft centre. Abhinav Gomatam shows up as the know-it-all friend who recommends ridiculous home remedies for fertility, adding more chaos.
The rest of the cast, including Jeevan Kumar, Sri Lakshmi, Harsha Vardhan, Bindu Chandramouli, Satya Krishna, Thagubothu Ramesh, Abhay Bethiganti, Kireeti, Anil Geela, and Saddam, fill out the world with short but vivid appearances. Sri Lakshmi, as a nosy neighbour, makes a quick role feel unforgettable. There is no obvious weak performance here; together they create lively, believable madness around the central couple.
Plot: Romance, Low Sperm Count, and a 100-Day Deadline
The title Santhana Prapthirasthu roughly translates to “May you be blessed with children”, and the story leans into exactly that expectation. At heart, it is about a marriage pushed to the edge by biology and intrusive relatives.
Chaitanya (Vikranth) is a 28-year-old software engineer in Hyderabad who grew up without parents. Kalyani (Chandini Chowdary) is a sharp, outspoken teacher from Warangal, in town for work. They meet in typical rom-com fashion, with playful banter and clashes between his tech-obsessed city life and her rooted, small-town values. Coffee meets turn into dates, and before long, they elope, leaving behind Kalyani’s strict father, Eshwarao (Muralidhar Goud), who had very different plans for her.
For a while, married life feels sweet and simple. Then routine medical tests throw everything off. Chaitanya learns that he has a low sperm count. The news hits him hard and becomes the core tension in their new life. Eshwarao pretends to forgive the couple and moves in with them, but secretly lays down a harsh rule: Chaitanya has 100 days to get Kalyani pregnant, or he will push for a divorce and cut her off.
From this point, the film shifts into a mix of comedy and panic. Chaitanya tries every suggestion thrown at him. He drinks awful herbal concoctions, suffers through painful alternative treatments, and meets bizarre doctors who offer unhelpful advice. These sequences sound heavy on paper, but the film keeps things light, using visual humour and witty dialogue to soften the blow.
Kalyani stands by him at first, ready to support and encourage. Over time, though, she starts to feel the weight of the problem and questions her own role in the marriage. Their arguments strip away the jokes and reveal how much shame and blame sit around infertility, especially for men in conservative families.
The story avoids turning into a lecture. It weaves in Chaitanya’s office life, where co-workers joke about his situation yet also cheer him up, and Eshwarao’s hidden attempts to ruin their intimacy, like tampering with food and playing tricks with medicines. A subplot involving Tharun Bhascker’s so-called thug character takes a surprising turn and adds a gentler side to the film, showing that even “tough” men feel insecure.
As the 100-day mark approaches, the mood grows more serious. Chaitanya faces his fear that he is not “man enough”. Kalyani speaks up about wanting a life that is not measured only by motherhood. Eshwarao is forced to question his own beliefs about honour, lineage, and control.
The final act unfolds during a family function that spirals into chaos. Instead of forcing a miracle baby or a medical twist, the film opts for a heartfelt conversation. The resolution is fairly predictable but still moving. The message is clear: a marriage should not rest only on the ability to have children, and love is worth more than a family tree.
Analysis: What Works, What Falters, and What It Says About Society
Santhana Prapthirasthu works best as a gentle push to talk about male infertility honestly. It keeps things clean, skips vulgar jokes, and tries not to turn pain into cheap comedy. Director Sanjeev Reddy, who co-wrote the script with Sheik Dawood G, keeps the tone light for most of the 139-minute runtime, which makes the topic less heavy for a wide audience.
The humour mostly springs from everyday situations. App-based fertility tracking, awkward visits to clinics, and nosey relatives give plenty of chances for laughs. The second half, in particular, benefits from Muralidhar Goud’s comic set-pieces, which lift the energy whenever the pace dips.
Kalyan Raghav’s dialogues are sharp and playful. Lines like Chaitanya’s joke about his “swimmers being on strike” capture how men try to hide fear behind humour, and help the subject feel less stiff or clinical.
The performances carry the film across rough patches. Vikranth plays Chaitanya with sincerity and never overacts. Chandini Chowdary uses small gestures and expressions, especially in quieter scenes, to show hurt, love, and frustration. The rest of the cast meshes well, so even broad characters feel somewhat real rather than only cartoonish.
On the technical side, Sunil Kashyap’s music adds a lively touch. The songs lean on folk influences and support the rom-com mood without overpowering scenes. The title track, a playful plea for “santhana”, stays in your head. Mahi Reddy Pandugula’s cinematography gives Hyderabad a bright, busy look and contrasts it with the more rustic hints brought in through Eshwarao’s presence and backstory. Sai Krishna Ganala’s editing generally keeps things moving, though the early portion of the film takes its time, and the main conflict arrives a bit late.
The film is not without issues. The emotional core around stigma and self-worth only kicks in fully towards the end, so the key message feels slightly rushed. Some subplots, such as the deeper story behind Tharun Bhascker’s character, feel undercooked and left hanging. At times, the comedy leans towards sitcom-style gags instead of sharper social satire, which films like Pelli Choopulu delivered more consistently.
Critical response reflects this mix of strengths and weaknesses. GreatAndhra gave it 1.75/5 and called it a “disappointing small-budgeter”, pointing to uneven humour. On the other hand, 123Telugu rated it 3/5, highlighting Muralidhar Goud as the standout and praising the fun factor. Reviews from Cinema Express and The Hindu hover around 3/5, appreciating the sensitivity of the treatment and the absence of crude jokes. Early audience scores on Rotten Tomatoes sit around 70 percent, with many viewers liking the “clean, family-friendly vibe”.
Even with its flaws, the film manages something meaningful. It questions long-held ideas about masculinity and fertility, and it gently pushes older and younger generations to look at each other with more empathy. In a year filled with familiar formulas, its decision to sidestep hero worship and focus on insecurity, love, and acceptance feels refreshing.
Conclusion: Light Entertainment with Something to Talk About
Santhana Prapthirasthu is not a flawless film, but it is an honest and engaging one. It plays like a modest mirror to modern Indian marriages, where romance, family opinion, and health issues clash under one roof.
With its likeable cast, offbeat premise, and timely subject, it earns a solid 3 out of 5. It delivers enough laughs for a relaxed viewing and enough emotion to spark real conversations at home. Expect a few awkward moments if you watch it with parents, but that is part of its charm.
As Sanjeev Reddy put it before release, the film offers “fun with a purpose”. In a market where loud spectacle often wins, a small film that values heart over hype feels worth supporting. If you are up for a family drama that tackles taboos without losing its sense of humour, Santhana Prapthirasthu is a good pick.