The rise of Tollywood: Why UK Asians feel more ‘seen’ in Telugu films

Highlights:

• Telugu blockbusters like RRR and Pushpa are drawing UK crowds.
• Bollywood flops have pushed audiences to look elsewhere.
• British Asians connect with stronger, rooted Telugu heroes.
• Pawan Kalyan’s They Call Him OG smashed overseas records.
• More UK cinemas now screen Telugu films to meet demand.

The queue for a new Bollywood film was quiet. But around the corner, snaking down the street in a British city, a different queue was buzzing. It was not for a Hollywood blockbuster. The chatter was not in Hindi. It was in Telugu, English, and regional British Asian dialects, all waiting for a Pawan Kalyan film. This scene is becoming the new normal.

Formulaic Hindi films lose ground as Telugu cinema delivers spectacle and authenticity that resonate with UK desi audiences AI generated

When the default setting broke

For years, Bollywood was the default. It was the comforting, familiar voice of 'home' for millions in the diaspora. The formulas started to feel tired. We'd grown up watching those Bollywood stars, trusting them to deliver. But something broke, and suddenly, they couldn't get people through the door. When films like Laal Singh Chaddha and Bachchhan Paandey arrived, they just failed to connect. It felt like we were being shown a plastic-wrapped India, scrubbed clean for an international crowd we no longer recognised. That old thread that tied us to them? It snapped. And in the quiet that followed, you could hear something else roaring to life.

Formulaic Hindi films lose ground as Telugu cinema delivers spectacle and authenticity that resonate with UK desi audiences AI generated

The pan-Indian quake

The rise of Telugu cinema in the UK is not an accident. It started with movies that spoke the language of sheer scale fluently. Baahubali wasn't just a movie. It was a proper legend, the kind that felt ancient and massive. It proved, without a doubt, that a story spun in India could stand tall on any screen in the world. You could feel the rumble in your seat. Then you had RRR and Pushpa crash in. They took that energy, the spectacle, and turned it into something you could chant along to. They weren't apologising for what they were, and this was the undiluted escapism fans were starving for. This was what they called "maximum entertainment," and it was a gut punch of fun.

For British Asian audiences, many with roots in smaller towns and villages, this felt more authentic than Bollywood’s increasingly urban, Western-facing stories. It was a sensibility that translated perfectly, speaking a visual language of spectacle that needed no translation.

Telugu films, by contrast, doubled down on identifiable emotion and a kind of unapologetic heroism. Their protagonists are often loud, rooted, and purposeful; they fight, they sing, they love on camera without irony.

Baahubali 2 www.easterneye.biz

From cultural punchline to unapologetic power

But the shift goes deeper than just spectacle. It is about the kind of hero you want to see on screen. For a long time, mainstream British Asian representation often came with a side of comedy. The culture was sometimes the punchline: the accented parents, the generational clashes played for laughs. It was a representation that could feel limiting.

There is also a practical reason: a bigger, better diasporic infrastructure. Telugu speakers are numerous in the UK and beyond; distributors and cinemas have responded. Once theatres start screening Telugu films regularly, community momentum builds.

If there is a risk, it is twofold: Tollywood must be careful not to trade complexity for bravado, and Bollywood must decide whether to listen. For British Asians, cinema is a resource, a way to rehearse belonging.

RRR poster (Photo credit: RRR/Twitter) www.easterneye.biz

The Pawan Kalyan phenomenon

He is almost a phenomenon in Telugu cinema. His influence doesn't end there. He's the Deputy Chief Minister of Andhra Pradesh, a leader who talks about Hindu culture with a fighter's intensity. When you combine that with a fanbase whose loyalty feels less like admiration and more like a fundamental belief, you get a force that's hard to ignore. The release of They Call Him OG proved it. Tickets for the world's second-largest IMAX screen, all the way in Melbourne, vanished in two flat minutes. Across international markets, the film was running circles around Bollywood's biggest offerings.

So, you sit back and look at all that, and the question just forms itself: Why does this resonate so powerfully?

For a younger British Asian generation navigating dual identities, Kalyan represents an unapologetic cultural confidence. He is not diluted. He is not a stereotype. He is power and agency wrapped in a star’s persona. He offers an "oppositional gaze," a direct challenge to the narratives where their identity was the source of conflict, not strength, and choosing him is maybe a way of reclaiming a narrative.

Pawan Kalyan’s OG breaks overseas records with sold-out shows days before release Instagram/ogmovieofficial

The end of passive viewing?

This is not just about swapping one industry for another. It is a sign of a community maturing, of knowing what it wants to see reflected in the stories it consumes. They are no longer passive recipients of whatever cinema is handed down to them. They are active choosers. They are voting with their tickets for stories that feel epic, heroes that feel powerful, and a cultural voice that does not ask for permission to be loud, proud, and entirely itself.