Andhera Review: A fresh urban horror that trips on its own ambition

Andhera film review

‘Andhera,’ directed by Raaghav Dar, was released on 14th August and stars Priya Bapat, Karanvir Malhotra, Surveen Chawla, Prajakta Koli, Pravin Dabas and Pranay Pachauri.

A haunting start with bold ambition

‘Andhera’ begins with the promise of being a gripping, nerve-jangling thriller, the kind that could have redefined urban horror for streaming audiences. The early episodes build an eerie mood with precision, evoking the sort of tension Ram Gopal Varma once mastered in ‘Bhoot,’ set against Mumbai’s concrete sprawl.

The sound design amplifies the unease—distant empty shots, flickering tube lights, and sudden pockets of silence that feel like the city holding its breath. Dimly lit corridors, and the camera lingers just a second too long on empty spaces, making you wonder if you actually saw something. But as the show heads into its final stretch, the gains of those first chapters are squandered.

By the time the last two episodes arrive, the narrative has tied itself into knots, and what unfolds is more baffling than satisfying. The concept—horror rooted in the idea of immortality—is fresh for the genre, but the writing piles on so many layers that the story collapses under its own weight.

What starts as a taut, unsettling experience in the city’s shadows ends in a messy crash landing.

Fear in the grip of darkness

The story kicks off with the mysterious death of Bani Baruah, an escort whose body is never recovered, forcing the police to label it a missing-person case. Regulations dictate a woman officer must close such files, so Inspector Kalpana Kadam (Priya Bapat) is tasked with signing it off. But her instincts tell her something is off.

She starts digging and soon finds herself haunted by a dark force quite literally referred to as ‘Andhera’ in the series. This darkness isn’t just absence of light—it breathes, it follows, and it watches from corners no one should be able to stand in. Running alongside this is the thread of brothers Prithvi (Pranay Pachauri) and Jay (Karanvir Malhotra).

Prithvi, a doctor, has been aiding Dr. Sahay (Pravin Dabas) in a secret experiment, funded by pharma giant Uberlife, aimed at achieving immortality. ‘Andhera’ is its sinister by-product, targeting those touched by the project. Eventually, Jay, his vlogger friend Rumi (Prajakta Koli), and Kalpana must come together to face the living darkness.

When the darkness unravels

It’s an ambitious setup, with multiple plotlines weaving through the series, all destined to converge. In the early episodes, the gamble pays off—the silences, the claustrophobic stillness of a middle-class housing society, and the unspoken dread all click to create real unease. The world-building works as long as the mystery holds.

But somewhere around the midpoint, the show starts unravelling its cards, and the effect wears thin. By the final episode, the writing loses its discipline entirely, throwing in elements that feel plucked from a mythological comic, a Marvel-style makeover for Surveen Chawla, and a parade of grotesquely disfigured characters.

The result is a jumble so overstuffed that it’s hard to keep track of the story’s emotional or logical through-line.

Performances that hold the line

The performances, however, stay committed even when the writing falters. Priya Bapat makes Kalpana Kadam more than just a procedural protagonist, balancing grit with the weight of her own personal hauntings.

Karanvir Malhotra in the role of Jay manages to project both the volatility and the guilt of a man convinced he caused his brother’s death. Surveen Chawla brings presence and poise to Ayesha, though the endless withholding of her character’s secrets robs her arc of impact when the reveals finally arrive.

Prajakta Koli is effortlessly natural as Rumi, the vlogger drawn to documenting the supernatural—her camera lens often becoming the audience’s uneasy eye.

Missed opportunity

Certain narrative choices, though, leave one shaking their head. Darius (Vatsal Sheth) is teased throughout as a major figure, only to be revealed as little more than Uberlife’s henchman. An important character reappears post-death without explanation, and the plot often veers into absurd territory, as if the writers, running out of ideas, reached for anything to fill the gaps.

‘Andhera’ deserves credit for taking a bold swing at reinventing horror within a distinctly urban, contemporary framework, and the craft in the early episodes is undeniable. But in trying to outdo itself, the show loses control, and its final act—wild, illogical, and tonally confused—robs it of the satisfaction it could have delivered. What lingers in the mind is not the fear it tried to evoke, but the sense of a squandered opportunity.

Rating: 3/5