Title: Nikita Roy
Director: Kussh S. Sinha
Cast: Sonakshi Sinha, Arjun Rampal, Suhail Nayyar, Paresh Rawal
Where: In theatres near you
Rating: **1/2
It’s not often that a debut director eschews formula and leans into restraint, especially in the genre of supernatural thrillers, where creaking doors and shrieking violins are the go-to tools of terror. But this film, directed by Kussh S. Sinha, is an ambitious, unsettling debut that occasionally surprises but struggles to fully shake its genre shadows.
Set in a gloomy, off-centre London that seems perpetually dusk-lit, the film follows Sonakshi Sinha’s Nikita Roy, a self-styled rationalist, skeptic, and part-time detective who could probably dismantle your horoscope with a single eye-roll. When her brother Sanal (a briefly potent Arjun Rampal) dies under mysterious circumstances while investigating a charismatic spiritual leader (Paresh Rawal, in delightfully sinister form), Nikita throws herself into a hunt for the truth, armed with only logic, grief, and a deeply suspicious cat.
What begins as a straight whodunit steadily veers into territory where ghosts may—or may not—be real, audio tapes whisper secrets, and the dead refuse to stay quiet. The film leans into psychological dread rather than cheap theatrics, with cinematographer and sound designer tag-teaming a slow-burn tension that is never hurried, though sometimes a tad too cautious for its own good.
Sonakshi Sinha delivers one of her more refined performances in recent years. Gone are the theatrics of mainstream masala; here she plays it low-key but compelling, her character slowly unravelling under the strain of unexplained events and unresolved grief. She’s ably supported by Suhail Nayyar as Jolly, the loyal friend-zoned Watson to her brooding Holmes. Their dynamic simmers pleasantly but never boils—which, thankfully, spares the narrative from tumbling into a romantic subplot it doesn’t need. Still, Jolly’s arc fizzles into exposition delivery, hinting at a backstory that never fully arrives.
But the film’s real trump card is Paresh Rawal as Amardev, a spiritual guru whose placid exterior masks something far more twisted. Rawal plays it with unnerving stillness, the kind of performance that reminds you that menace need not raise its voice. His presence is the eye of the storm, steady while everything around spins toward madness.
The screenplay, originating from Phobia’s Pavan Kirpalani and subsequently workshopped by what appears to be a small writing battalion, avoids spoon-feeding. That’s admirable—until the climax arrives like an Uber that took a shortcut and left you feeling you missed part of the ride.
Overall, for audiences accustomed to the loud certainties of Bollywood horror, Nikita Roy may feel more like an enigmatic dinner conversation than a full-blown party. But for those who prefer slow-burn ambiguity, carefully composed frames, and villains who smile while pulling the floor from under you, it’s a commendable debut—even if it leaves you slightly hungry at the end.
