Thamma (2025) Review: A Riveting Hi-Language Drama

Alok Goyal (Ayushmann Khurrana) is a Delhi-bred skeptic who inherits a crumbling haveli in a remote village, only to discover it’s haunted by Tadaka - a demoness from legend, played with surprising vulnerability by Rashmika Mandanna. But here’s the twist: Tadaka isn’t wholly evil. She’s a cursed being trapped between worlds, and Alok, thanks to a prophecy he didn’t ask for, is the only one who can break her curse. Their bond blossoms into something deeper, but the path to love is blocked by Yakshasan (Nawazuddin Siddiqui), a shape-shifting sorcerer who wants Tadaka’s power for himself, and by Alok’s own family - led by his domineering grandfather Ram Bajaj Goyal (Paresh Rawal) - who see her as a threat to their lineage. Throw in a nosy village officer (Faisal Malik) and a foreign journalist (Alexx O'Nell) chasing a scoop, and you have a plot that juggles mythology, romance, and comedy with the grace of a drunk circus performer.

Let’s start with what works: Khurrana and Mandanna. Khurrana, as the reluctant hero, does his usual “everyman with a secret streak” schtick, but he grounds it in genuine bewilderment. He’s not a warrior; he’s a guy who googles exorcism rituals. Mandanna, meanwhile, is a revelation. Her Tadaka is part snarling beast, part lovesick girl, and she flips between the two with believable intensity. Their scenes together - especially a quiet moment where she teaches him to see the spirits that surround them - carry an emotional weight that the rest of the film struggles to match.

But the film is called Thamma, and its real star is its chaos. Sarpotdar clearly wanted to make a horror movie, a comedy, and a love story all at once, and the seams show. One minute you’re watching a genuinely eerie sequence where Tadaka’s shadow stretches impossibly across a wall; the next, Paresh Rawal is doing a comedy bit about constipation. The tonal swings are jarring, and at 149 minutes, they become exhausting. The first hour is a slog of exposition and setup, with too many side characters (looking at you, Faisal Malik’s P K Yadav) who exist solely for comic relief that rarely lands.

Then Nawazuddin Siddiqui enters, and the film recalibrates. His Yakshasan is a scene-stealing menace - half sorcerer, half petty bureaucrat - who delivers his threats with the casual air of a man ordering chai. His showdowns with Khurrana crackle with energy, and he elevates every scene he’s in. The visual effects, though, are a mixed bag. The demon transformations are genuinely cool, but the CGI landscapes look like they were rendered on a 2010 laptop. This is a film that constantly struggles between the epic and the intimate, and often loses the battle.

Thematically, Thamma tries to say something about family duty versus personal desire, and about how fear of the unknown poisons love. Ram Bajaj Goyal’s prejudice against Tadaka isn’t just about her being a demon; it’s about her being an outsider, a force that disrupts his carefully ordered world. That’s a smart parallel, but Sarpotdar undercuts it with clumsy dialogue and over-the-top scenes that turn tragedy into farce. The ending, in particular, is a rushed muddle that resolves the prophecy in a deus ex machina that feels unearned.

Pros

• Khurrana and Mandanna’s chemistry is the film’s beating heart.
• Nawazuddin Siddiqui delivers a magnetic, unpredictable villain.
• Ambitious blend of genres keeps you on your toes.
• Strong thematic core about forbidden love and family prejudice.
• A few genuinely eerie horror sequences that work despite the comedy.

Cons

• Runtime is bloated; at least 30 minutes could be trimmed.
• Tonal whiplash is severe, undermining both scares and laughs.
• Visual effects are inconsistent, often pulling you out of the moment.
• Side characters and subplots add little and waste screen time.
• The climax feels rushed and over-reliant on convenient magic.

Thamma is the cinematic equivalent of a monsoon storm: chaotic, unpredictable, and capable of both drenching you and dazzling you in equal measure. It’s not a great film, and it often feels like it’s fighting itself, but there’s something admirable about how unapologetically weird it is. For every misstep - the sagging runtime, the half-baked CGI - there’s a moment of genuine magic, like Mandanna’s tearful transformation or Siddiqui’s chilling monologue about why curses exist. It’s a movie that refuses to be boring, and in today’s franchise-driven landscape, that alone is a small miracle. Watch it for the performances, stay for the chaos, and leave with more questions than answers. Just don’t expect a clean ride.