Raakaasaa Review: Sangeeth Sobhan Carries a Film That Can’t Decide What It Wants to Be

A certain type of Telugu movie comes out in the summer with everything looking good on paper: a charming young hero gaining traction, a first-time director with something to prove, a producer with a recent hit under her belt, and a concept that at least sounds different. However, it takes two hours to gradually reveal that the writing didn’t quite follow through on any of it. That type of movie is Raakaasaa, which debuted in theaters on April 3. It’s not severe enough to leave. It’s not good enough to recall with clarity by the next weekend.

The configuration is adequately functional. Veerababu, played by Sangeeth Sobhan, is a cheerful US returnee who returns to his village with the intention of marrying his childhood girlfriend but discovers that she is already taken. He ends up spending the night close to a deserted, allegedly cursed fort at the village’s edge, where everyone has avoided going for generations due to a monstrous presence that demands human sacrifice whenever it manifests itself. He is heartbroken and slightly inebriated. The idea of a rationalist or gullible outsider wandering into the realm of something the village has been afraid of for two millennia is feasible. The difficulty lies in the fact that it has been done before. multiple times. Shambala, which was released in December 2025 and dealt with similar material in a more serious register, is one example from just a few months ago.

In her first film, director Manasa Sharma makes wise decisions without taking risks. The production design team painstakingly constructed an elaborate fort set for her second half, complete with layered stonework, flickering interiors, and surprisingly well-dressed rooms that suggest a contained budget used wisely. Considering how much these productions usually cost, it’s quite an accomplishment that the fort doesn’t feel like a television set. Even when the screenplay keeps the actors in essentially the same spot for extended periods of time, cinematographer Raju Edurolu makes the most of it by finding angles that prevent the space from feeling monotonous. These are genuine advantages, which help to explain why the second part of the movie is much more entertaining than the first.

The most dependable element of the movie is Sobhan himself. His comedic timing during a lengthy scene in the middle of the second half, where he must navigate the horrors of the fort while keeping a nearly deadpan expression, is genuinely humorous. It’s the kind of effortless character work that makes you wish the script had given him something more structurally sound to anchor it. In the second half, Vennela Kishore makes an appearance that makes some people laugh. In a more erratic stretch, Getup Srinu, who was used in the first half, does the same thing. Both are superior to the content and are performing precisely what Telugu audiences have been requesting for years.

The movie most obviously falters in the first part. There is a joke about Brahmins and biryani that, depending on your tolerance for material that was already getting old several years ago, falls somewhere between stale and cringe. The comedy gags don’t connect consistently, and the pacing drags in places where it should be building intrigue. Character actor Brahmaji, who has demonstrated his versatility in decades of Telugu cinema, is noticeably underutilized; the role had genuine comedic potential, and it appears that the film misplaced it at some point during the writing process.

The climax is the largest structural error. The movie changes course in the third act to give the antagonist a sympathetic backstory, a cycle of suffering it never chose, and a humanity hidden beneath the monstrosity after first presenting it as something truly menacing. This type of conclusion is effective when the movie has earned it through steady tonal development. No, Raakaasaa has not. For viewers who were waiting for the movie to finally commit to its horror premise, the resolution feels less poignant and more perplexing because it achieves emotional redemption without laying the groundwork for it.

Observing all of this, it seems as though Raakaasaa is torn between two versions of itself: the safer, more recognizable crowd-pleaser it was most likely intended to be from the start, and the lean, humorous horror-comedy it occasionally becomes in its best moments. Although those two versions aren’t always incompatible, they never quite come together to form a cohesive whole in this instance. It’s an amazing fort set. Sobhan’s timing is accurate. It’s obvious that a new director can set a scene. A script that is prepared to take a chance that it hasn’t already witnessed someone else take is what’s lacking.