28-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Khaleej Times
'Maa' Review: Kajol's foray into horror is high on myth, low on scares, and even lower on CGI
If you're going to name a film Maa, cast Kajol in the lead, and sprinkle in mythological horror, you better bring the thunder. Sadly, this one barely manages a drizzle.
Let's be clear: Kajol, national treasure and eternal DDLJ sweetheart, has been consciously moving away from her comfort zone of sari-clad romance and motherly melodrama (though the latter still lingers here). In Maa, she takes on a blood-soaked, goddess-fueled role that demands rage, restraint, and ritualistic roars. Props to her — she dives in with full sincerity, the kind of performance that screams, 'I've still got it,' even if the film doesn't quite keep up.
I had a chat with her pre-release, and she told me she was proud of herself — and rightfully so. She elevates the material, even when it crumbles around her.
Directed by Vishal Furia — who gave us the far spookier Chhorii — Maa is less horror, more homage. It's being billed as part two in a universe started by Ajay Devgn's Shaitaan (yes, this is the Devgn Cinematic Universe now). But where Shaitaan leaned into dark occult thrills, Maa fumbles with its genre identity like a kid lost at a festival.
We kick off with a child sacrifice (yes, they really go there) in Chandrapur, a fog-drenched Bengal village that clearly didn't get the memo that the '80s are over. Then boom — it's 40 years later. Kajol's Ambika is living her best suburban life with husband Shuvankar (Indraneil Sengupta) and their daughter Shweta. They're happy, smiling, and avoiding Chandrapur like it's haunted. Spoiler: it is.
But because Bollywood loves ancestral trauma, Shuvankar has to return to his cursed hometown after his father's death. He promptly dies too — like a supernatural domino effect — and while it feels like classic deus ex machina at first, the later 'reveal' barely makes it worth the wait.
Three months and one conveniently timed call from village know-it-all Joydev (Ronit Roy) later, Ambika and Shweta head to Chandrapur to sell off their spooky ancestral house, poor Shuvankar's dying wish. Or so we're told. What could go wrong? (Hint: everything.)
Turns out, Chandrapur is still being tormented by the bloodthirsty legacy of Raktabija — the demon from Indian mythology whose every drop of blood spawns another monster. It's a compelling myth, one that should've unleashed true horror havoc. Instead, we get lukewarm lore, diluted jump scares, and the kind of CGI that makes you wish they'd just used prosthetics and shadows.
The first half drags like a poorly wrapped saree. It takes forever to get to the point, and when it finally does, your brain is already playing 'connect-the-plot-holes.' The scares? More like polite taps on the shoulder than spine-chilling jolts. The supposed twist? So unsurprising, I guessed it before the CGI even loaded.
I don't know if we've been ruined by Avatar, Dune, or literally any Marvel mid-budget show — but someone please upgrade Bollywood's VFX engine. The evil tree looks like it came from a 2012 mobile game, and the demon? Let's just say he wouldn't pass as a haunted house extra at Global Village.
Kajol's big 'Kali moment' is rousing, but is undermined by all the digital chaos happening around her. You want to feel the rage of a mother invoking divine wrath, but the green screen keeps getting in the way.
Ronit Roy does his best as the brooding village elder, though the forced Bengali accent is trying a little too hard to make us believe we're in 'mytho-thriller territory.' The mother-daughter chemistry — crucial to making the story land emotionally — sadly falls flat. It's hard to feel the stakes when you're not quite sold on the relationship at the core.
And just when you think it's over, the film drops a philosophical mic with thrilling noise in the background: 'Our biggest mistake is thinking that when we destroy the devil, the evil dies with it.'
Or something like that. Sequel alert, folks.
To sum up: Maa wants to be a lot of things — a horror, a spiritual drama, a feminist mythological epic — but ends up being none of them convincingly. Kajol holds it together with sheer willpower and a fire in her eyes, but she deserves a sharper script, scarier spirits, and way better CGI.
Verdict? Watch it if you're a Kajol loyalist or curious about Bollywood's attempt at its own supernatural universe. You can sit through the film. Just don't expect to be scared. Or wowed. Or even particularly moved.
