If you've already seen Kahaani, you’ll likely find Nee Enge En Anbe disappointing. It’s clear Sekhar Kammula wasn’t aiming for a direct copy of Sujoy Ghosh’s film and wanted to put his own stamp on it, a point established early with the introduction of the main character. Unlike Vidya Bagchi in Kahaani, Anamika isn't presented as pregnant, which would have immediately garnered sympathy; instead, she’s an ordinary woman claiming to be in Hyderabad from America searching for her missing husband, Ajay Swaminathan. This indicates a willingness on the director’s part to take risks and contribute significantly to the film. He effectively illustrates how a young woman could be vulnerable—one officer suggests a trade of intimacy for information about her husband, while another reprimands her for an unbuttoned shirt. Parthasarathy (Vaibhav), the only Tamilian at the police station, offers Anamika assistance and develops a fondness for her. Simultaneously, she learns from encounter specialist Amjad Ali Khan that Ajay is actually Milan Damji, allegedly responsible for a devastating bomb blast months earlier. However, Anamika rejects this explanation, believing it's a cover-up to hide police incompetence. As she seeks help, those she approaches are targeted by a hit man, and everyone seems fixated on a hard drive believed to hold the key to solving the mystery. While the boldness of these changes is commendable, the alterations Kammula and his co-writer Sai Prasad make to the original story ultimately detract from the film's quality. The Hindi version was essentially an intricate cinematic deception that still felt believable (at least during viewing) and provided convincing explanations for events. Here, the final revelation raises more questions than it answers—such as how Anamika discovered the villain’s true nature, why the police force, led by Khan, doesn't consider capturing Milan Damji alive, and why terrorists would leave her alive (a flashback even shows Damji murdering a woman who previously identified him). The film’s setting also proves problematic. It’s understandable that the filmmakers chose Hyderabad for this Tamil-Telugu bilingual production; however, it distances the Tamil audience because the local atmosphere isn't fully realized, despite the energetic Durga puja score and Kammula’s frequent use of wide shots showcasing Anamika’s neighborhood. The lengthy Telugu and Hindi dialogue becomes tiresome. Poorly synced lip movements during scenes where actors are speaking Telugu further compound the issue. There's even a humorous moment when Sarathy, pursuing the hit man, shouts, 'Aye nillu, odaathe'! The performances feel perfunctory as well. Nayanthara, in particular, doesn’t truly embody Anamika and fails to bring the subtle nuances that Vidya Balan gave her character. Whether she's pleading with an Imam for information, evading a cop making unwanted advances, or confronting a hit man at her door, her acting feels superficial. She shines only during a scene involving Pasupathy, where her righteous anger is palpable—though even then, she’s outshone by Pasupathy, who delivers a strong performance in an underwritten role compared to Nawazuddin Siddiqui's Khan in the original. The actor initially displays intense frustration at not being able to apprehend Milan Damji, but he visibly softens when he sees Anamika’s sincerity (following her outburst), creating a remarkable moment.

Source on TMDB