The Ghost of Better Movies Past
If Geethaanjali were an actual haunting, it wouldn’t be the kind that makes you scream — it would be the kind that just keeps rearranging your furniture while muttering, “Remember Manichitrathazhu? That was better.”
Priyadarshan’s 2013 horror film promised the triumphant return of Dr. Sunny Joseph, Mohanlal’s beloved psychiatrist-slash-ghostbuster from Manichitrathazhu (1993). What we got instead was the cinematic equivalent of a séance gone wrong — a confused remake of the 2007 Thai film Alone, filtered through a haze of melodrama, unconvincing ghosts, and jump scares so mild they could lull you into an early nap.
This is a movie that wants to make you question what’s real, what’s supernatural, and whether you should have stayed home rewatching Bhool Bhulaiyaa instead. Spoiler: you should have.
Dr. Sunny Returns (Unfortunately for Him)
The film opens with Anjali (Keerthy Suresh) and her fiancé Anoop (Nishan) returning to her ancestral mansion after a family tragedy. Anjali’s twin sister Geetha, we’re told, died by suicide — which in horror movie logic means she’s absolutely not resting in peace. Soon, strange noises, flickering candles, and melodramatic violin music start haunting the house like a 90s soap opera with a fog machine.
Enter Dr. Sunny (Mohanlal), who arrives from Machu Picchu, of all places — because apparently that’s where psychologists go to relax after exorcising possessed aristocrats.
Unfortunately, the good doctor seems as confused about the plot as we are. Mohanlal, a titan of Malayalam cinema, does his best to inject energy into the film, but even he looks like he’s wondering if this ghost has a better script lying around. His signature charm from Manichitrathazhu — a mix of playfulness and sharp intellect — is replaced here by the weary resignation of a man who knows he’s solving the same mystery for the hundredth time, only now with worse lighting.
The Haunted House That Couldn’t Care Less
Most of Geethaanjali takes place in a large, supposedly creepy mansion in Arackal, Kerala — a place so filled with cobwebs and slow zooms that it practically begs for a fresh coat of paint and an exorcism of clichés.
There are faint whispers, fluttering curtains, and random doors creaking open — you know, the usual symptoms of a haunting or a bad ventilation system. Unfortunately, none of it is scary. Priyadarshan’s idea of horror seems to be, “What if we dim the lights and let the wind machine do all the work?”
The cinematography by Tirru is occasionally beautiful — misty mornings, dim corridors, and wide shots that suggest there might be a better movie happening offscreen. But even great camerawork can’t distract from the pacing, which alternates between “watching paint dry” and “watching ghosts explain plot points.”
Double Trouble: Keerthy Suresh’s Twin Performance
Keerthy Suresh, in her debut adult role, plays both Geetha and Anjali, and to her credit, she commits — but the script doesn’t give her much to work with beyond crying, screaming, and looking confused in duplicate.
Her twin roles are differentiated mostly by hairstyle and eyeliner intensity. When she’s Anjali, she’s terrified and trembling; when she’s Geetha, she’s angry and trembling. It’s like a masterclass in how to act scared while trapped in a script that forgot to be scary.
By the end, she’s playing both alive and dead versions of herself, sometimes in the same scene, and you start to wonder if the real ghost was her sense of career direction.
The Supporting Cast: Specters of Subplots
The mansion is filled with side characters who seem to have wandered in from other movies entirely. There’s Thankappan (Innocent), the comedic caretaker whose job is to provide relief from the horror — though since there’s no real horror, he’s just… there. Siddique plays Thambichayan, another caretaker who dies in a fire, possibly out of frustration.
Then there’s Vasu (K. B. Ganesh Kumar), who claims to have seen Geetha’s ghost in a car, which raises more questions than it answers. There’s also an exorcist, a priest, and enough villagers giving warnings to fill a folk horror anthology. Each subplot arrives, says “Boo!”, and exits without leaving a trace.
By the time the psychic, the priest, and the psychologist all show up in one scene, you half-expect them to walk into a bar and order the audience a stiff drink.
The Plot Twist That Forgot to Surprise
Now, let’s talk about the “big reveal.” (If you can call it that without laughing.)
After nearly two and a half hours of ghostly misdirection, we learn that Anjali is actually Geetha — yes, the dead twin herself. The haunting was all in her mind, a symptom of guilt and split personality disorder, because apparently Manichitrathazhu’s psychological twist wasn’t just reused, it was Xeroxed, laminated, and mailed to your doorstep.
Dr. Sunny, ever the expositional savior, explains this in an extended monologue that feels longer than the movie itself. By the end, it’s not horror anymore — it’s therapy with dramatic lighting.
The twist lands with all the subtlety of a frying pan to the head, partly because anyone with a pulse guessed it an hour earlier. The “shocking” revelation that the ghost was actually the heroine all along might’ve worked in 1993. In 2013, it’s just déjà vu with bad CGI.
Priyadarshan’s Direction: Where Genre Goes to Die
Priyadarshan is a legendary director with an enviable career, but Geethaanjali feels like he’s directing on autopilot while rewatching his old movies in his head. The tone swings wildly from horror to melodrama to slapstick, leaving the audience trapped in tonal purgatory.
One moment you have ghostly whispers, the next you have Innocent cracking jokes about curry. Then comes a flashback so long you forget what decade the movie started in. It’s less a film and more a time loop of cinematic exhaustion.
Priyadarshan reportedly planned to shoot this in 3D, which is baffling. The only thing flatter than this film’s scares is its pacing. 3D wouldn’t have helped — unless the ghosts could reach out and physically shake the audience awake.
Mohanlal: Too Good for This Ghost Business
It’s worth emphasizing again: Mohanlal does not belong in this movie. Watching him play Dr. Sunny here is like seeing Sherlock Holmes solve crimes in a haunted amusement park. He’s dignified, intelligent, and completely miscast in a film that treats psychology like black magic and exposition like a sport.
Every time he appears on screen, you feel a flicker of hope — and then remember he’s stuck in a remake of Alone, a movie that wasn’t exactly crying out for an Indian adaptation in the first place.
The Music and Mood Swings
The background score is relentless, like a horror soundtrack that’s lost its sense of proportion. Every minor event — a door creaking, a character blinking — is accompanied by orchestral thunder as if someone just summoned Beelzebub.
There’s no tension, just loud noise and quick cuts. If you played this movie on mute, you’d assume it was a long tourism ad for haunted real estate.
The Afterlife of a Franchise
The cruel irony of Geethaanjali is that it wanted to capture the legacy of Manichitrathazhu, a masterpiece blending psychology, tradition, and genuine fear. Instead, it feels like its ghost — hollow, confused, and desperately pretending to be alive.
Even its connection to the Thai film Alone was kept secret before release, as if Priyadarshan hoped no one would notice. But the Internet did, and the film’s credibility evaporated faster than Anjali’s sanity.
The Verdict: Rest in Pieces
Geethaanjali isn’t the worst horror film ever made — it’s just the most unnecessary séance in cinematic history. It’s bloated, predictable, and haunted not by ghosts, but by the ghost of better storytelling.
For every good performance or pretty shot, there’s an awkward jump scare or recycled twist waiting to drag it down. Watching it feels like attending a family reunion where everyone insists they’re fine, but you can tell something has been dead for years.
Rating: 3 out of 10 Haunted Hairdos.
Because the only real spirit here is the ghost of originality — and even she looks like she wants to move out of the mansion.
