Madhu Tillu

Neerukulla 35km (2025) tosses you into the thick of a wild road trip, but not the Insta-glamorous kind. We’re talking potholes, frayed nerves, and friendships on the edge. Madhu Tillu pops up in the middle of all this chaos, and honestly, you can’t take your eyes off what’s about to happen next. The story’s set in a dusty, half-forgotten stretch of rural India—think old trucks, sweat-soaked shirts, and a radio that won’t stop crackling old Bollywood tunes. Four friends, all lugging their own emotional baggage, cram into a battered car for what’s supposed to be a straightforward 35-kilometer drive to Neerukulla. Of course, things go sideways before they even hit the halfway mark. Fights break out (because of course they do), secrets tumble out, and suddenly that short drive starts looking like a metaphor for all the messy stuff they’ve been running from. Madhu Tillu’s character? She’s got this quiet, simmering energy, like she’s about to either fix everything or blow the whole thing up. The movie’s not shy about poking fun at small-town quirks—awkward chai stops, nosy aunties, cows blocking the road like they own the place. But underneath the laughs, there’s a real gut-punch of raw emotion. Everybody’s got a reason for being on that road, and by the end, nobody’s walking away the same. Neerukulla 35km is less about the destination and more about the beautiful, messy disaster of getting there.