Mandala Murders Review:
By [Senior Film Critic’s anrwriting]
Adapted from Mahendra Jakhar’s novel The Butcher of Benares, and helmed by Mardaani director Gopi Puthran, Mandala Murders promises a heady mix of ritualistic killings, generational trauma, and a science-versus-superstition narrative. Spanning timelines and steeped in black magic, the series blends a supernatural premise with a conventional whodunit structure. Unfortunately, despite the potential for high-stakes drama, it rarely rises above genre clichés.
At the center of the narrative is Officer Rea Thomas (Vaani Kapoor) and a former cop Vikram Singh (Vaibhav Raj Gupta), who find themselves unraveling a string of gruesome killings marked by mandala symbols. Their investigation ties back to the 1950s, where Nandini, a widowed scientist, builds a wish-granting machine under a mystical prophecy, setting into motion a deadly cycle that culminates in a modern-day resurrection ritual.
While the premise is intriguing and the stakes tangible, Mandala Murders plays it frustratingly safe. The narrative unfolds along predictable lines protagonists with troubled pasts, a trail of cryptic murders, periodic setbacks, and an eventual confrontation with a sinister cult — all executed with minimal narrative flair.
Vaani Kapoor’s portrayal of Rea lacks emotional heft or nuance. There’s a visible restraint in her performance that borders on detachment, making it difficult to empathize with her journey. Vaibhav Raj Gupta, though decent as Vikram, is saddled with a character that never fully comes alive. In contrast, Shriya Pilgaonkar in a brief but impactful role emerges as the show’s strongest performer, sinking her teeth into a morally grey character with conviction and presence.
The supporting cast fares slightly better. Surveen Chawla shines in a well-written part, continuing her strong OTT streak post Rana Naidu and Criminal Justice. Jameel Khan infuses charm into his limited screen time, while veterans Raghubir Yadav and Manu Rishi Chadha lend gravitas to their fleeting appearances.
On the technical front, the show boasts slick production design and a restrained, atmospheric visual tone courtesy of cinematographer Shaz Mohammed. The muted palette complements the grim undercurrent of the story, though the editing by Monisha R Baldawa remains strictly functional, offering little innovation. Ankit and Sanchit Balhara’s background score adheres to thriller norms effective but uninspired.
To its credit, Mandala Murders does manage to generate moments of intrigue. A well-crafted flashback tracing Nandini’s scientific ambitions in post-independence India, or a tense rescue sequence involving a child, briefly elevate the series. But these flashes of brilliance are undermined by a screenplay that often meanders, and characters who remain thinly sketched despite their prolonged screen presence.
What ultimately limits Mandala Murders is its refusal to push boundaries. It touches on potent themes faith versus rationality, generational guilt, systemic corruption but does so with a superficiality that leaves little impact. For those starved for supernatural thrillers and willing to overlook familiarity, there’s enough here to warrant a casual binge. For discerning viewers, though, the series might feel like a long walk down a well-trodden, dimly lit path.
Verdict:
Mandala Murders is a middling supernatural thriller that delivers occasional thrills but is ultimately let down by formulaic storytelling, underwhelming performances, and a lack of narrative risk. Watch it if you’re craving genre fare or revisit Asur for a more rewarding experience.
Rating: ★★½ (2.5/5)
