A Vacation From Logic
There’s a special place in cinematic hell for movies where the scariest thing isn’t the demon, but the runtime. Shaitaan, Vikas Bahl’s 132-minute supernatural slog, takes a perfectly serviceable premise—a creepy stranger, a remote farmhouse, a possessed daughter—and somehow turns it into an overlong lecture on why parents should never open the door to anyone who looks even vaguely like R. Madhavan with Wi-Fi issues. Adapted from the Gujarati film Vash, it faithfully copies the plot and then loses the soul somewhere between Dehradun and the box office counter.
The Devil Knocks… And Then Just Won’t Leave
Kabir Rishi (Ajay Devgn) is a chartered accountant and family man, which is horror shorthand for “emotionally available punching bag.” He takes his wife Jyoti (Jyothika) and kids Janhvi and Dhruv to a remote farmhouse—because nothing ever goes wrong in an isolated house in the woods. Enter Vanraj (R. Madhavan), a stranger so obviously cursed he might as well walk in with a subtitle: “I Do Black Magic And Bad Things Happen.” Kabir lets him in anyway, because common sense apparently didn’t survive the first act.
Black Magic, White Noise
Vanraj is supposed to be a practitioner of ancient black magic, but his power set feels like it was written during a long lunch break. Sometimes it’s hypnosis, sometimes it’s voice control, sometimes it’s… vibes. He takes control of Janhvi, turning her into a violent puppet who terrorizes her family while he lounges around like a demonic Airbnb guest who’s overstayed checkout. The film hints at some grand philosophy about stripping humans of free will, but it lands closer to “motivational speaker who discovered satanic YouTube.”
Single Location, Multiple Yawns
A single-location thriller can be intense, suffocating, and nerve-shredding. Shaitaan looks at that challenge and says, “What if we just talked a lot instead?” Most of the film is set in the farmhouse, which should heighten the claustrophobia. Instead, it feels like everyone’s stuck in an escape room designed by HR. Doors close, phones break, and the family screams, but it’s staged with all the urgency of a slightly tense family counseling session. The camera circles, the music blares, and yet tension never really arrives—just repetition.
Acting Possessed By a Better Script
Here’s the real tragedy: the actors are actually good. Ajay Devgn brings weary intensity to Kabir, playing a father who oscillates between panic, rage, and “I really should have trusted my instincts about the creepy guy.” R. Madhavan is disturbingly effective as Vanraj, all soft menace and unsettling calm, like your favorite uncle who secretly runs a cult on weekends. Janki Bodiwala, reprising her role from Vash, throws herself into the contortions—emotional and physical—of playing the possessed daughter. Critics have rightly praised their performances; it’s the script that clearly took the day off.
Jyothika’s Big Bollywood Return, Small Rewards
Jyothika’s comeback to Hindi cinema after 25 years should’ve been an event. Instead, Shaitaan gives her the role of “concerned wife and mother who cries, shouts, and occasionally remembers she has agency.” This is her first Hindi film since Doli Saja Ke Rakhna (1998), and the best the screenplay can do is have her oscillate between helplessness and mild resistance while the men handle the moral and physical heavy lifting. It’s less a triumphant return and more a reminder that Bollywood still hasn’t figured out what to do with women over 30 who can act.
Horror Without the Horror (But With Pee)
For a film marketed as a “psychological horror,” Shaitaan is strangely light on… y’know, horror. There are jump scares, loud sound cues, and the usual contorted body antics, but very little genuinely unsettling atmosphere. The most talked-about moment off-screen is the infamous urination scene, which even Madhavan admitted he wanted to make as disgusting and uncomfortable as possible. Mission accomplished: it’s gross, but not in a way that deepens the horror—more like a dare between film school students that somehow survived the edit.
Philosophy 101: Evil For Dummies
Vanraj keeps rambling about free will, control, and how humanity doesn’t deserve its choices, but his grand “ideology” sounds like rejected TED Talk notes. The script wants him to be this terrifying apostle of chaos, a devil with a manifesto. What we get is a man who speaks in vague quotes and fortune-cookie threats while relying on hypnotized teenage girls to execute his master plan. For someone who supposedly hates human autonomy, he sure spends a lot of time micromanaging minors.
The Climax: Tongues, Tapes, and a Dungeon
By the time Kabir discovers Vanraj’s ritual chamber full of hypnotized girls, the film has fully embraced the “Why not?” school of plotting. Mass possession ceremony? Sure. Doctored audio with Vanraj’s own voice used to break his spell? Why not. Kabir cutting out Vanraj’s tongue to silence him forever? Of course—subtlety left the building an hour ago. Then comes the epilogue: Vanraj, now tongueless, imprisoned in a secret underground chamber while Kabir visits like a low-budget Batman checking in on his personal Joker. The final shot practically waves a neon sign reading, “Franchise, baby!” especially with a sequel in the works and a spin-off (Maa, starring Kajol) already out expanding the so-called Shaitaan Universe.
When the Box Office Sells Its Soul
Here’s the real horror twist: Shaitaan is a bona fide hit. It’s grossed over ₹200 crore worldwide on a mid-range budget, ranking among the top Hindi films of 2024 and even being touted as one of the highest-grossing horror-thrillers in Bollywood history. Audiences showed up in droves, proving once again that a solid marketing campaign, big stars, and a vaguely spooky premise can do what good writing sometimes can’t—drag people to the theater. The devil may work hard, but box office math works harder.
Verdict: Possessed By Mediocrity
Shaitaan isn’t an unwatchable disaster—it’s something more frustrating. It’s a film with strong performances, a promising setup, and genuine craft behind the camera that keeps tripping over its own self-importance and lazy writing. The horror rarely cuts deep, the psychology is shallow, and the supernatural rules feel improvised. What remains is a glossy, overlong morality play about family and faith that mistakes volume for terror and monologues for menace.
