Revisiting Sriram Raghavan’s Andhadhun, writes Shanku Sharma

//Shanku Sharma//

Lambi kahaani hain. Coffee?

Andhadhun (2018), directed by Sriram Raghavan, is an exemplar of the black comedy thriller genre, showcasing Raghavan’s prowess as a filmmaker unafraid to explore morally ambiguous terrain. Starring Ayushmann Khurrana, Tabu, and Radhika Apte, the film diverges sharply from the conventions of Bollywood, presenting a labyrinthine plot that dares viewers to question assumptions about innocence, guilt, and the nature of deception.

The narrative centers on Akash (Ayushmann Khurrana), a seemingly blind pianist who stumbles into a web of crime after inadvertently witnessing a murder. Akash’s blindness is a complex metaphor, one that underscores the film’s exploration of “seeing” versus “knowing” and truth versus deception. From the beginning, Khurrana’s performance is masterfully layered. His portrayal of Akash oscillates between the innocent charm of a struggling artist and the cunning of a man capable of blurring ethical boundaries. Khurrana’s nuanced acting consistently teases the audience, as he crafts a character who is both vulnerable and potentially deceitful.

Tabu’s portrayal of Simi, a woman who operates between the desperate measures of a trapped wife and the calculating mindset of a murderer, stands as one of her most compelling roles. Simi’s transformation is steeped in irony, dark humor, and unpredictability. Tabu uses her exceptional range to shape a character who is unapologetically ruthless, and her interactions with Akash are a blend of tension and understated menace. She manipulates the audience’s perception, making them question their loyalties as she swings between vulnerability and cruelty. Simi’s complexity serves as a sharp critique of traditional gender roles, as she defies the typical portrayals of femininity in Bollywood.

Raghavan’s screenplay, co-written with Pooja Ladha Surti, Arijit Biswas, and Yogesh Chandekar, is an intricate tapestry of cause and effect, a darkly comic exploration of how one event can spiral out of control. The theme of blindness is woven into the storyline, not just as Akash’s literal condition but as a symbolic exploration of what it means to be oblivious to—or willfully ignorant of—truth. The screenplay’s brilliance lies in its use of seemingly trivial moments that later return with immense impact, keeping the audience in a state of suspense. Each scene is packed with subtext and moral ambiguity, inviting viewers to interpret the characters’ motivations and speculate on their honesty.

Raghavan’s direction pays homage to classic Hitchcockian suspense, building tension through meticulously planned shots and pacing that holds the audience captive. The pacing, while deliberate, builds gradually, drawing the viewer deeper into Akash’s world of deception. Raghavan employs visual storytelling, with the cinematography by K. U. Mohanan playing a critical role in enhancing the film’s themes. Mohanan’s use of shadow and framing draws attention to the tension between what is visible and what is hidden, turning ordinary spaces into sites of suspense. A particularly notable aspect is how Mohanan uses perspective to distort the audience’s sense of reality, emphasizing the precariousness of truth and perception.

The musical score by Amit Trivedi is another standout feature of the film. The soundtrack complements the narrative’s twists and turns, heightening the sense of tension without overburdening the scenes. Trivedi’s score has a recurring, almost hypnotic quality, serving as a reminder of the chaos lurking beneath the surface. The piano motifs, in particular, play an ironic role in enhancing Akash’s blind musician persona, subtly reminding the audience that the sound they hear may be deceptively incomplete, much like the truths Akash reveals.

Pooja Ladha Surti’s editing brings precision to Raghavan’s vision, allowing each twist to land with maximum impact. The cuts are clean, and the film is free from any extraneous scenes or subplots, maintaining a sense of urgency that draws viewers to the edge of their seats. The editing is particularly crucial in the film’s climactic moments, where it amplifies the frenetic pace of Akash’s unraveling. Surti’s skillful editing also contributes to the film’s sense of unpredictability, helping to blur the lines between reality and illusion.

Andhadhun is particularly notable for its subversive take on morality, blurring the lines between hero and villain. Raghavan crafts a moral landscape where characters are neither purely virtuous nor irredeemably evil. Akash, for instance, begins as a seemingly innocent victim but is soon revealed to possess a cunning side, as he manipulates his blindness for personal gain. Simi, too, defies straightforward classification; while she’s undoubtedly a murderer, her actions come across as pragmatic responses to her circumstances. This moral ambiguity challenges Bollywood’s typical narrative structure, where characters are often defined along strict lines of good and evil.

The film’s ending, one of its most discussed aspects, encapsulates Raghavan’s approach to storytelling. Rather than offering closure, it leaves viewers with questions, demanding an active interpretation of events. The open-ended finale, rife with symbolism, pushes audiences to question everything they’ve seen, highlighting the film’s theme of subjective reality. Raghavan’s refusal to deliver a conventional ending underscores the complexity of human choices and the ethical ambiguity that defines real life.

Through its sharp writing, stellar performances, and bold thematic elements, Andhadhun marks a turning point in Indian cinema. It is not just a film about a crime or a thriller about a murder; it’s a deeper examination of how truth can be as malleable as perception. The film forces its viewers to confront uncomfortable questions about morality, deception, and the lengths individuals are willing to go to protect their secrets. Raghavan’s direction ensures that Andhadhun transcends genre boundaries, resonating as both a psychological study and a darkly comic narrative on human fallibility.

In sum, Andhadhun is a cinematic marvel that combines suspense, dark humor, and philosophical undertones into a gripping experience. It is a film that refuses to spoon-feed its audience, instead challenging them to question the nature of truth and the power of deception. Sriram Raghavan has crafted a timeless piece, and Andhadhun remains a testament to the evolving landscape of Indian cinema, where complex narratives and moral ambiguity are celebrated rather than shunned. The film leaves a lasting impression, a blend of suspense, humor, and thoughtful ambiguity that lingers long after the credits roll.