Suchin Mehrotra

“I thought we agreed to put this behind us,” a character says, defeatedly, to another in Jeethu Joseph’s Drishyam 3, the apparently concluding chapter of one of the most thoughtful trilogies (and remarkably consistent series of thrillers) to emerge from modern Indian cinema. With the smashing Drishyam 2, which released directly on streaming during the pandemic, Joseph evolved a clever, unputdownable thriller into a ghost story. That is to say, a story about the ghosts of the past and how they haunt us. It became a story about a life of fear, and the weight of guilt and trauma plaguing Georgekutty (Mohanlal continues to carefully craft one of Indian cinema’s most enjoyable recent creations), his wife Rani (Meena George), and his daughters Anu (Esther Anil) and Anju (Ansiba).

Writer-director Pulkit has quietly become one of the most prolific filmmakers strutting around Hindi cinema these days. Red Chillies Entertainment’s blue-eyed boy has had four releases in the last two years, with two more currently in production. His finest work to date is his previous team-up with Netflix—2024’s Bhumi Pednekar-starrer Bhakshak. His latest, Kartavya, is a cousin of that film. Kartavya is not quite as concentrated, focused, and hardhitting as Bhakshak, but wrestles with similar themes of lone heroes taking a stand against injustice, systemic corruption, and the power structures that allow those at the top to prey on children.

Two titans of cinema team up after aeons in Mahesh Narayanan’s Patriot, which is easily among the most eagerly anticipated Indian films of the year. If Mammootty and Mohanlal are in the same frame, powering the same narrative, crafted by one of our most celebrated filmmakers (Take Off, C U Soon, Malik), and that isn’t a thing to be excited about, I don’t know what is. It’s also interesting to consider what the term “spectacle” or “event film” means with respect to modern Malayalam cinema, known for producing India’s most refined and boundary-pushing mainstream cinema. It’s often said that hollow spectacle and empty movie star calories alone won’t fly for Malayalam cinema audiences. Even sweeping blockbusters need to be rooted in character and narrative—and offer something substantial, new, and evocative.

At first glance, Priyadarshan’s Bhooth Bangla seems cursed to be more of the same as yet another templated haunted-haveli horror-comedy. Perhaps there is hope, you tell yourself. Perhaps Priyadarshan reuniting with Akshay Kumar after over a decade could mean something. Perhaps this could be the sequel to Bhool Bhulaiya they never got to make, considering Anees Bazmee and Kartik Aaryan took over the franchise in 2022. But, alas, what we get is a nothingburger of the highest order: a horror-comedy that doesn’t land as horror, comedy, or even as a vaguely passable time at the movies.

Toaster—the confused new comedy on Netflix from debut director Vivek Daschaudhary and the first film from actors Rajkummar Rao and Patralekhaa’s new production house, Kampa Films—wastes a great premise. Meet Ramakant (Rajkummar is never NOT a joy to watch in a comedy) who’s a terrifyingly, debilitatingly cheap. I’m talking ‘argues for a six-rupee refund on his phone bill’ level kanjoos. His way of being includes taking his wife to the local gurdwara for langar to celebrate their wedding anniversary, and sneaking toast from his neighbour every morning to save himself from having to pay for breakfast. That, or attending local political rallies or religious processions for the free food.