Andhadhun (2018)

Andhadhun is the rare thriller that plays like a perfectly tuned piece of music: nimble, mischievous, and so cleverly constructed you can feel the filmmaker grinning just out of frame. Sriram Raghavan turns a deliciously simple setup into a rollercoaster of close calls and darkly comic misdirection, where every glance, sound, and seeming coincidence matters. Ayushmann Khurrana anchors the chaos with charm and nerves, while Tabu delivers the kind of performance that’s equal parts magnetism and menace—she doesn’t just steal scenes, she rewires them. If you like your crime stories with wicked humor and constant surprises (and don’t mind a few intense moments), this one is an absolute treat.

Andhadhun is trying to be a sly, twisty crime caper where dark comedy and moral chaos keep you guessing, anchored by a terrific central setup and a deliciously game cast (Tabu, in particular, knows exactly what movie she’s in). When it’s firing, it’s tense, clever, and wickedly entertaining, with set-pieces that feel like a magician showing off. But if you need tight logic and clean momentum all the way through, the second half can feel more stretched and conveniently plotted, with turns that start to look less sharp and more “because the script says so.” It’s a great ride if you enjoy tonal whiplash and escalating absurdity; if you prefer grounded thrillers with disciplined pacing and airtight payoffs, you may leave thinking it peaked early.