The algorithm is thirsty again. Every time a South Indian star hits a milestone birthday, the internet’s content mills churn out the same recycled praise. Today, it’s Nani. The "Natural Star." That’s a hell of a branding pivot, isn’t it? In an industry where guys get titles like "Mega Power Star" or "Rebel Star"—which sound like rejected characters from a Saturday morning cartoon—Nani went with "Natural." It’s a clever bit of marketing. It says he’s the guy you’d grab a beer with, rather than the guy who would blow up your house with a slow-motion flick of a cigarette.

He’s forty now. Or as the streaming giants call it: "prime demographic bait." If you’re looking to kill a weekend or justify that Netflix subscription price hike that just hit your inbox, you could do worse than digging into his filmography. But let’s be real. Not every "Natural Star" flick is a winner. Some are just high-definition exercises in sentimentality.

If you’re going to bother, start with Eega. It’s the one where he spends most of the runtime dead, reincarnated as a common housefly. It’s a tech-heavy revenge flick that shouldn’t work. A fly trying to kill a billionaire? It sounds like a fever dream. But it’s the definitive proof that Nani can sell a concept through sheer charisma before he even leaves the screen for the CGI team to take over. It’s ridiculous. It’s brilliant. It’s the kind of thing Hollywood is too scared to touch because they’re too busy making Ant-Man 5.

Then there’s Jersey. This is the movie people point to when they want to talk about "the craft." It’s a sports drama about a guy who failed. That’s the friction right there. Usually, these movies are about winning. Jersey is about the crushing weight of being a middle-aged disappointment. It’s the scene at the train station—where he finally screams in joy—that usually makes the YouTube highlight reels. It’s raw. It’s loud. It’s the kind of emotional payout that feels earned, which is rare in a genre that usually relies on swelling violins and predictable arcs.

If you want the gritty stuff, you’ve got Dasara. It’s Nani doing the "unwashed, soot-covered hero" trope that’s currently sweeping through Indian cinema. It’s set in the coal mines. It’s dirty. It’s violent. The trade-off here is the runtime. It’s a commitment. You’re trading three hours of your life for a story about silk, booze, and friendship. It’s visually striking, sure, but it also feels like the industry’s desperate attempt to match the "raw" aesthetic of movies like Pushpa or KGF.

For those who prefer their movies with a side of existential dread, Shyam Singha Roy is the pick. It’s a dual-role period piece involving reincarnation and social reform in Kolkata. It’s ambitious, even if the pacing gets a bit clunky in the second act. The production design is the real star here, though Nani’s turn as a revolutionary writer is a solid reminder that he’s bored of playing the boy next door.

Then we hit the rom-coms. Bhale Bhale Magadivoy is built on a gimmick: the protagonist has a memory lapse every time he gets distracted. It’s a sitcom premise stretched into a feature, but it works because Nani has the comedic timing of a guy who’s actually done the work. Same goes for Ante Sundaraniki. It’s a long, winding look at religious friction and the lies people tell to stay together. It’s funny, but it’s also a bit of a slog if you aren’t invested in the specific cultural hang-ups it’s dissecting.

You can’t skip the early stuff either. Ashta Chamma is where the "Natural" tag started to stick. It’s small. It’s talky. It doesn’t need a hundred-crore budget to tell a story. Pilla Zamindar is another one—a spoiled brat gets sent to a village to learn a lesson. It’s a trope as old as time, but Nani’s transition from insufferable jerk to decent human being is actually believable, which is more than I can say for most corporate PR stunts.

For the tear-jerkers, you have Ninnu Kori and Hi Nanna. The latter is his recent "girl dad" pivot. It’s slickly produced, looks like a high-end perfume commercial, and targets your tear ducts with surgical precision. It’s the kind of movie that thrives on Prime Video because it looks great on a 4K OLED screen while you’re folding laundry.

Ten movies. A decade and a half of screen time. Nani has managed to stay relevant by being the guy who doesn’t look like he’s trying too hard, even when he clearly is. He’s the middle-class hero for an audience that’s increasingly tired of "super" characters. But as the budgets get bigger and the "Natural Star" brand becomes a global commodity, you have to wonder: how much longer can he play the underdog before the machine finally swallows the "natural" right out of him?

Is he actually the boy next door, or just the best salesman in the room?