Baramulla (2025) Review!!

Synopsis – A police officer investigating missing children cases discovers disturbing truths while supernatural occurrences threaten his family and Baramulla’s tranquility.

My Take – Though Hindi cinema loves to return to Kashmir and recount many stories of turmoil, usually with political or historical lenses, this latest Netflix release, also brings supernatural into play. By merging ghostly elements with real-world tensions, the film clearly aimed to provide chills along with its social commentary.

An approach that immediately set it apart from the typical narratives about the snow-covered region.

However, the biggest surprise that comes from this latest Aditya Suhas Jambhale (Article 370) directorial is that it is not exactly spooky, but in fact its brings something more unsettling to the table: the horrors behind losing one’s identity and the pain of exile. With minimal jump scares and frights at disposal, the film works as chilling meditation on grief, exile, and the ghosts of a homeland long-lost.

Sure, the narrative is uneven at times, and falls short of the emotional and narrative depth it aspires to, yet, it succeeds in creating the right mood and setup, delivering a world that feels both real and unsettling. Its atmospheric cinema done with intent. A reminder that sometimes, the real horror lies not in ghosts, but in the world we inhabit.

Set in 2016 Baramulla, the story follows DSP Ridwaan Sayyed (Manav Kaul), a veteran police captain, who finds himself newly assigned to the Kashmir Valley region of northern India to investigate the week old missing case of Shoaib Ansari, the pre-teen son of a local ex-MLA, Ansari (Mir Sarwar), who is believed to have been kidnapped, despite the receival of a ransom call.

Though the immediate suspect is immediately apprehended, Ridwaan soon dismisses his possible involvement once he is puts his investigate skills to work. But what his fresh colleagues do not know is that their new senior officer is suffering from PTSD following a violent incident at his last post.

Something which has pushed him deep into his workaholic nature, thereby alienating him from his wife Gulnaar (Bhasha Sumbli) and two children, middle schooler Noorie (Arista Mehta) and baby of the family Ayaan (Rohaan Singh). An alienation that increases as local pressure mounts to solve the growing disappearances. Meanwhile, his family who moved along with him into a creaky and rambling old house are facing their own eerie happenings at home—from dog smells to invisible playmates.

Despite the setup, director Jambhale deserves credit for resisting the urge for spectacle. There are no overblown chase sequences or loud musical cues. Instead, the film leans on texture and rhythm- the crunch of snow, the echo of footsteps, and the silence between two breaths. The suspense builds gradually, pulling you in incrementally rather than relying on loud scares or gimmicks.

What instantly captures your attention thoroughly is the atmosphere. The eerie unease that builds from the first frame lingers till the last, thanks in no small part to cinematographer Arnold Fernandes. Even when the film moves toward elements of the supernatural, its realism keeps it believable. The film doesn’t rush to its revelations, allowing the shifting moods of Kashmir to do most of the storytelling. It’s in these moments that it feels most assured- when it trusts atmosphere over exposition.

What the film does so effectively is build dread not from the supernatural, but from memory itself. The narrative begins on a procedural, almost political note, but soon turns inward, towards anguish, remembrance, and revelation. But the true triumph of the film lies in its searing climax: layered, haunting, and too moving for words.

The horror here is not imagined; it’s historical. The exodus of Kashmiri Pandits in the early 1990s remains a wound that refuses to heal, and director Jambhale treats it not as spectacle but as soul. Something that is bound to haunt long after the film is over.

If there’s a flaw, it’s in the film’s uneven first half. The pacing falters, the narrative takes its time to grip you, and the early scare moments feel unnecessary, especially when the film’s true power lies in stillness, not shock. But once it finds its rhythm, the screenplay never lets go.

Performance wise, Manav Kaul is magnetic as always. Displaying his vulnerability without going overboard. He brings intensity to every frame, commanding attention without raising his voice. His scenes with his teenage daughter are particularly affecting: restrained and painfully real. Bhasha Sumbli adds quiet intensity to the narrative. She moves between logic and fear, between wanting to protect her family and sensing that protection might no longer be possible. Her emotional restraint makes the later moments land with force.

Arista Mehta too leaves an impression, portraying trauma with remarkable authenticity. In supporting roles, Ashwini Kaul, Khurshid Mir, Shahid Lateef, Neelofar Hamid and child actors Rohaan Singh and Ahmad Ishaq leave a mark. Sanjay Suri is excellent in his cameo. On the whole, ‘Baramulla‘ is a chilling and thought-provoking experience that effectively blends horror and thriller elements against the hauntingly beautiful backdrop of Kashmir’s snow-covered landscapes.