Films rooted in ancient folklore have steadily gained currency, not just in Tollywood, but across Indian cinema. While the cultural contexts may vary, the form largely remains the same: a mystical thriller anchored in the eternal conflict between reason and belief. Shambhala, dubbed into Hindi after a successful Telugu theatrical run, is one such offering. It attempts to bridge the familiar divide between scientific skepticism embodied by a male protagonist firmly grounded in logic, a time-tested trope even in horror cinema and ancient folklore, whose power ultimately defies rational explanation. Set against a rural backdrop in the 1980s, the film succeeds in conjuring a sense of dread that feels both Virupaksha-esque and distinctly otherworldly.
The narrative follows Vikram, a single-minded geologist (Aadi Saikumar), who arrives in a remote, enigmatic village called Shambhala to investigate a series of unexplained anomalies none of which initially unsettle him. By the time he reaches the village, a meteor has seemingly brainwashed the locals into believing it is a ghost sent by demons from hell. An inevitable science-versus-faith clash follows, with Vikram turning into a one-man crusade against the hegemony of the supernatural until he is confronted with evidence that upends his intellectual framework. The tipping point arrives when victims are found bearing identical, peculiar blisters on their necks.
Aadi Saikumar, often seen in overtly commercial roles such as a cop, delivers a restrained and convincing performance as a man forced to confront the limits of his lifelong beliefs. When Vikram is confident and assertive, he echoes the assured protagonist of a film like Karthikeya 2. In many middling mystical or horror films, characters appear oddly unfazed minutes after a terrifying incident. Shambhala avoids this pitfall. Here, the actors internalize fear, and their earnest performances heighten the narrative intensity especially in the second half. A sequence involving Swasika Vijay stands out as one of the film’s most gripping passages, deftly oscillating between crowd-pleasing moments and narrative integrity. Ravi Varma, Meesala Laxman, and Shiju Menon, among others, are aptly cast and lend credibility to the world.
The film is patient in revealing its hand and occasionally manages to surprise even while operating within a familiar template. The opening mythological sequence featuring Lord Shiva and Andhakasura adds a celestial dimension to the narrative. The villagers’ terror of the meteor ‘ghost’ is portrayed with sincerity, and mercifully, the film doesn’t waste screen time laboriously building this fear psychosis as is common in many template-driven supernatural thrillers. A sense of urgency is sustained throughout, and even when the female lead (Archana Iyyer) shares screen space with Vikram, the tension is rarely diluted.
The idea of a truly isolated village cut off not just geographically but emotionally is a trope seldom explored convincingly in Indian cinema. Too often, haunted villages feel oddly relaxed, with characters indulging in casual banter at the slightest opportunity. Shambhala largely resists this temptation. While there are moments where certain scenes slightly overstay their welcome, they never spiral out of control.
Praveen Bangarri’s cinematography is clean and effective; his sharp visuals mirror the film’s brooding tone without resorting to excessive shadows or visual gimmicks. This restraint is complemented by Sricharan Pakala’s background score, which subtly amplifies the mood and masks a few narrative rough edges. The climax neatly ties together the film’s thematic threads, while leaving audiences to contemplate the fragile boundary between cosmic phenomena and diabolical intent.
Overall, Shambhala is a commendable addition to the recent wave of mystical thrillers. With strong performances, an engaging premise, and competent technical execution, it stands out despite operating within the well-worn science-versus-supernatural framework. Its disciplined storytelling and evocative 1980s setting lend it a distinctive identity.
Also Read: Shambhala Has Edge-of-the-seat Writing: Aadi Saikumar
