In the crowded Telugu horror space where jump scares and ghostly apparitions are the norm, Kishkindhapuri comes as a self aware film that doesn’t pretend to break the mold. Directed by Koushik Pegallapati, who follows up his quirky debut Chaavu Kaburu Challaga with this genre blending thriller, the film stars Bellamkonda Sreenivas and Anupama Parameswaran as a couple who run ghost walking tours in the titular haunted town. Released on September 12, 2025, under the Shine Screens banner, this 125 minute film is a mix of mythology, humor and supernatural thrills and has opened to a modest start with around ₹2 crore on day one and ₹0.38 crore on day two. While it gets points for its pace and atmosphere, Kishkindhapuri plays it too safe and settles for familiar tropes that leaves the audience wanting more.
The story takes place in the fictional Kishkindhapuri, a place where the past whispers secrets, begins with a 1980s radio station incident and then shifts to the present. Raghav (Bellamkonda Sreenivas), a charming but bluffing tour guide and his girlfriend Mythili (Anupama Parameswaran) take groups through “haunted” places and tell spooky stories for thrills and tips. Their latest trip takes a dark turn when a skeptical visitor drags the group into an abandoned radio station and unwittingly awakens a dormant spirit connected to ancient myths. Trapped within its walls, the team – with Hyper Aadi as comic relief and Tanikella Bharani and Makarand Deshpande as the veterans – have to unravel the secrets of the building to survive. Pegallapati has woven in conservative cultural references like turmeric baths to ward off evil and house blessings to ground the supernatural in everyday Indian mythology and Ramayana elements for added depth.
Bellamkonda Sreenivas is in his zone here, using the physicality he showed in Rakshasudu to a more vulnerable hero who is as quick with a one-liner as he is with a punch. His Raghav goes from a cocky showman to a reluctant savior, with a hero intro song that’s mandatory but fun and a climactic fight with spine-chilling dialogue like “Whether the evilness is in him or…?” that stays with you. Anupama Parameswaran brings warmth to Mythili, her chemistry with Sreenivas crackles in the lighter moments, though her possession arc is predictable. The supporting cast adds flavor: Hyper Aadi’s comedy is funny without derailing the tension and Deshpande’s sage is enigmatic and cryptic and ties into the mythological undertones. It’s a cast that’s fully committed and makes the functional parts of the script watchable.
Technically, Kishkindhapuri punches above its weight, with Chaitan Bharadwaj’s background score and sound design being the real heroes—thunderous echoes in the radio station build tension more effectively than any visual gag. Cinematographer Chinmay Salaskar’s work captures the foggy charm of the town and the decay of the station, blending practical sets with subtle VFX for a grounded horror feel. Editor Niranjan Devaramane keeps the runtime tight, zipping through the events with smooth tone shifts: a lush, imaginary duet abroad contrasts the shadows back home, and jump scares land with precision, if not originality. Production designer Manisha A. creates immersive spaces that are both nostalgic and nightmarish, making the film’s small budget feel big. At its best, these elements create a surreal haze, especially in the second half’s escalating episodes that blend horror with humor.
But for all the toppings, Kishkindhapuri can’t get rid of its generic core. The plot follows well-trodden paths—haunted house, vengeful ghost, frantic escape—echoing Hollywood and recent South Indian thrillers without enough twists to surprise. Predictable reveals and unconvincing reasons to care dilute the stakes, and the first half is a drag with expository nonsense and a forgettable opening song. The horror is not scary, it’s just mildly creepy and the mythical lore is interesting but feels tacked on rather than woven in. Critics have called it mediocre, some saying it’s not scary enough despite having some good moments, a sentiment echoed in audience reactions, who praise the chills but lament the execution. Bellamkonda himself said in an interview post release that it has organic buzz and big screen appeal despite the negative reviews.
In the end, Kishkindhapuri is a decent, but unimpressive horror – atmospheric and different enough to kill an evening but too formulaic to linger long term. Fans of light horror will enjoy the laughs and lore, and the 2.75/5 from early reviews suggests it has legs to run for a bit before bigger releases push it out. Pegallapati shows promise in handling genre mashups without excess fat, but next time a sharper edge could turn this watchable mess into something truly spooky. For now, it’s a reminder that in Kishkindhapuri, the real ghosts are the ones of untapped potential.