When Family Drama Meets the Afterlife
Some families argue over who forgot to do the dishes. Others, like the Saraswatis, argue about who’s possessed by a colonial Dutch spirit this week. Danur 2: Maddah—Awi Suryadi’s delightfully deranged sequel to Danur: I Can See Ghosts—manages to take domestic Indonesian melodrama, stir in haunted Dutch colonials, sprinkle in ritual possession, and bake it all into a horror soufflé that somehow doesn’t collapse.
It’s a supernatural soap opera drenched in tuberose perfume, exorcisms, and questionable life choices. The result? A surprisingly heartfelt, often funny, and occasionally terrifying sequel that proves that when it comes to dealing with the undead, therapy is cheaper, but rituals are way more fun.
A Quick Recap of the Chaos
When we last left Risa (Prilly Latuconsina), she had made peace with her childhood ghost friends Peter, William, and Janshen—three adorable Dutch boys who died too young but stuck around for friendship and occasional jump scares.
Now, a year later, Risa is living in Bandung with her younger sister Riri (Sandrinna Michelle), who’s decided ballet is the way to process growing up with supernatural housemates. It’s going well—until Risa ruins her big performance by screaming mid-show because she spots a ghost. (In her defense, most siblings just text embarrassing things during performances. Risa prefers paranormal sabotage.)
The sisters soon spend more time at Aunt Tina’s house, where something is… off. Uncle Ahmad (Bucek Depp) starts acting strange—moody, secretive, and inexplicably obsessed with tuberoses, which are either flowers or supernatural red flags, depending on your level of clairvoyance.
When Risa catches Ahmad strolling around with a mysterious woman, her ghost radar goes off harder than a metal detector at a pirate convention. And then things get properly weird.
Of Ghosts, Tubers, and Terrible Decisions
The hauntings escalate quickly: Tina ends up hospitalized after a run-in with a ghost, Ahmad starts writing romantic diary entries to a long-dead Dutch woman named Elizabeth, and Risa learns that ghosts can choose whether their danur (the ectoplasmic essence of rot—yum) can be sensed by humans.
Naturally, the only solution is for Risa to perform maddah, a ritual that deepens her connection to the spirit world. Because why call a priest when you can DIY your own possession?
What follows is a fever dream of séances, ghost gossip, and spiritual identity theft. Ahmad, it turns out, isn’t cheating—he’s being spiritually catfished by Elizabeth, a Dutch ghost with a flair for melodrama and murder. She wants Ahmad’s soul as a replacement husband for her eternal tea parties in Hell.
You know it’s bad when your dead ex is more committed than your living spouse.
Colonial Spirits, Literally
If the first Danur was about friendship between worlds, Danur 2: Maddah is about toxic relationships—between the living and the long-dead colonizers. The film gleefully pokes at Indonesia’s colonial past with its parade of ghostly Dutch aristocrats who refuse to leave, even after death.
Elizabeth Brouwer, played with delicious menace by Carolina Passoni Fattori, embodies every passive-aggressive ghost you’ve ever met. She’s pale, pouty, and probably smells faintly of old lace and regret. She wants Ahmad, and she doesn’t take “I’m married” for an answer.
Her supernatural love triangle is less Romeo and Juliet and more Gaslight with ectoplasm. Ahmad, in his trance-like devotion, becomes the world’s worst husband and Indonesia’s most haunted man.
Prilly Latuconsina: Indonesia’s Ghost Whisperer-in-Chief
Prilly Latuconsina carries the movie with a mixture of fear, sass, and “why me?” energy that’s both relatable and hilarious. Risa isn’t your typical horror heroine—she’s brave but perpetually annoyed, like a woman who’s been ghosted too many times by both men and actual ghosts.
Her dynamic with the spectral trio Peter, William, and Janshen remains one of the franchise’s charms. They’re sweet, slightly mischievous, and look like they wandered off the set of a Tim Burton kids’ movie. Their friendship with Risa provides warmth amid the supernatural chaos—a reminder that not all hauntings are hostile, some are just clingy.
Risa’s growth—both emotional and spiritual—gives the film surprising heart. She’s not just fighting demons; she’s trying to keep her family intact. And if that means arguing with the undead, so be it.
Ghosts With Social Lives
One of Danur 2: Maddah’s underrated pleasures is how it treats ghosts like gossiping neighbors rather than abstract horrors. Risa’s spectral pals have their own drama. There’s even a new addition: Ivanna (Elena Victoria Holovcsák), another Dutch spirit with tragic backstory energy.
Ivanna’s presence connects Elizabeth’s vengeful haunting to a deeper, bloodier colonial feud involving doomed romances, family murders, and—because this is Indonesia—spiritual revenge served cold. It’s like Downton Abbey with possession scenes.
Even Canting, the theater ghost who pops up during Riri’s ballet performance, feels less like a monster and more like an eccentric local celebrity. It’s as if Bandung itself has a thriving supernatural nightlife, complete with its own jealousies, hierarchies, and stage appearances.
Humor in the Haunting
The beauty of Danur 2: Maddah lies in its tone. It’s scary, sure, but it’s also absurdly funny if you have a taste for gallows humor. Ghosts here don’t just float—they meddle, argue, and occasionally ruin dance recitals.
The film’s sense of humor stems from its sincerity. It doesn’t wink at the audience; it commits fully to the ridiculousness of its premise. When Risa decides to “invite a ghost into her body,” no one stops to say, “Hey, maybe that’s a terrible idea.” Everyone just nods and fetches a candle.
The scene where Ahmad lovingly writes diary entries to a centuries-dead Dutchwoman deserves its own award for “Most Haunted Midlife Crisis.” His descent into spiritual adultery is both creepy and darkly comedic—like watching a man flirt with a ghost on WhatsApp.
A Feast for the Eyes (and the Spirit World)
Visually, Danur 2: Maddah is lush and atmospheric. Awi Suryadi fills the screen with moody lighting, antique architecture, and spectral haze thick enough to bottle and sell as “Eau de Purgatory.”
Every frame drips with melancholy beauty—the juxtaposition of colonial relics and modern life giving the film a haunting personality. It’s Indonesia’s past literally refusing to stay buried.
The horror sequences—while not drenched in gore—are expertly staged. The tension builds from quiet unease to full-on panic, often punctuated by the sight of a ghost doing something deeply inappropriate, like hovering politely in the background of a family dinner.
Ballet, Possession, and Sisterhood
By the finale, everything converges on Riri’s ballet performance, because apparently nothing says “climactic showdown with evil spirits” like interpretive dance.
Risa, now fully embracing her powers (and her weird life choices), battles Elizabeth’s influence while cheering for her sister onstage. It’s touching, funny, and faintly absurd—the cinematic equivalent of fighting off demons during a PTA recital.
Through all the madness, the sisterly bond between Risa and Riri anchors the chaos. Beneath the ghosts, possessions, and Dutch revenge plots, Danur 2: Maddah is about family—specifically, the kind of family that sticks together even when haunted by centuries-old colonizers.
Final Thoughts: Death, Drama, and Danur
Danur 2: Maddah proves that sequels can outshine their predecessors when they embrace both their scares and their silliness. It’s a story of love, loyalty, and ghostly manipulation, played with enough sincerity to make you both laugh and look nervously at your family’s flower vases.
Prilly Latuconsina continues to be Indonesia’s reigning queen of supernatural cinema, balancing terror and tenderness with ease. The supporting ghosts deserve their own spin-off sitcom, and the film’s gothic flair makes it one of the most stylish hauntings this side of the astral plane.
Sure, it’s melodramatic. Sure, it occasionally feels like a haunted soap opera. But that’s what makes it so good. It’s horror with heart—and a twisted sense of humor that reminds you that the dead can be just as dramatic as the living.
Verdict: ★★★★☆
A hauntingly beautiful, darkly funny sequel that mixes colonial ghosts, family drama, and flower-scented doom. Danur 2: Maddah proves once again that in Indonesia, even the dead can’t resist good theater.
