‘Baramulla’ review: A tale of horror, involving humans

In 2016, three years before the abrogation of Article 370 of the Constitution that gave special status to Jammu and Kashmir, children are going missing. Whenever a white tulip appears, boys and girls disappear. Indeed, the first suspect rounded up by Deputy Superintendent of Police Ridwaan is a magician.

Ridwaan (Manav Kaul) has relocated to Baramulla with his family after a professional scandal. Ridwaan, his wife Gulnaar (Bhasha Sumbli), daughter Noorie (Arista Mehta) and son Ayaan (Rohaan Singh) move into a house in which the wooden floorboards groan, disembodied voices waft through the walls and things go bump in the night. Gulnar, Noorie and Ayaan immediately sense a supernatural presence.

Meanwhile, Ridwaan’s investigation is going nowhere, even as more children vanish. A terrorist sleeper cell is at work too, swallowing up young recruits for the freedom of Kashmir in much the same way as the mysterious spirit.

The air is thick with allegory and anger in Baramulla, produced by Aditya Dhar of Uri fame and directed by Aditya Suhas Jambhale, who directed Dhar’s production Article 370. Baramulla insets itself into the trend of social horror films that link unexplained phenomena to past trauma, while also borrowing from djinn lore.

Keep up the pressure on the open wound, a militant advises. The Netflix release too presses a narrative finger hard on an egregious chapter of violence in Kashmir’s secessionist struggle.

The Hindi film draws from a story by Dhar and Jambhale and a screenplay by Jambhale and Monal Thaakar. Any suspense about the fate of the children dissipates early on. Hints about the spectral figures spotted in the house are scattered around long before their identities are revealed.

The behaviour of Ridwaan’s family members is odd and inconsistent. Gulnaar has no clue about what her children are up to, particularly the already troubled Noorie. The household’s mute servant Iqbal keeps disappearing into a locked room in full view, without any questions asked. The house is large, but not that large.

Ridwaan’s probe is similarly half-hearted. The scare factor is negligent, constituting much groaning and sighing. The characters are too sketchily written and indifferently performed – even by the dependable Manav Kaul – to be engaging.

Everybody and everything is being held in abeyance for the film’s powerful showpiece sequence, which is filled with rage and recrimination. In Kashmir, ghosts have multiple meanings emanating from the region’s decades-long turmoil. The makers of Baramulla have much to say about who they feel are the actual victims of the Kashmir tragedy.

The good-looking movie extracts as much eeriness as possible from the snow-covered landscape and traditional wooden houses. After dithering about for far too long, Baramulla finally snaps into shape in the extended climax, pulling off the mask of horror to reveal … bared teeth.