Andhadhun (FAST 2024)

Sriram Raghavan’s 2018 masterpiece isn’t just a movie; it’s a labyrinth built inside a funhouse mirror. It’s a neo-noir black comedy that starts with a simple question—“What if a blind pianist witnessed a murder?”—and then proceeds to pull the rug out from under you so many times that you eventually just give up trying to find the floor.

As Akash walks away, he smoothly taps away a tin can lying in his path with his cane. Andhadhun

He does. And the knife (literally) twists from there. We need to talk about Simi. Tabu doesn’t just play a villain; she plays a force of nature. She is elegant, terrifying, unpredictable, and heartbreakingly lonely all at once. Watching her switch from a grieving widow to a cold-blooded schemer to a sobbing mess is like watching a cat play with a mouse—except the cat also has a gun and a severed sense of morality. Sriram Raghavan’s 2018 masterpiece isn’t just a movie;