Jatadhara Movie Review: Sudheer Babu And Sonakshi Sinha At Their Finest

Directed by: Venkat Kalyan & Abhishek Jaiswal
Written by: Venkat Kalyan
Cast: Sudheer Babu, Sonakshi Sinha, Divya Khossla, Shilpa Shirodkar, Indira Krishna, Rajeev Kanakala, Ravi Prakash, Rohit Pathak, Jhansi, Subhalekha Sudhakar
Rating: 4
Duration: 135 Minutes

Some films don’t just tell a story—they awaken something older, something that hums beneath time. Jatadhara, directed by Venkat Kalyan and Abhishek Jaiswal, is one such work. It doesn’t begin with spectacle, but with stillness—a murmur, a ritual, a feeling that something sacred and dangerous is about to unfold. Here, faith is not comfort; it’s confrontation.

Set deep within the stone corridors of the Anantha Padmanabha Swamy Temple, Jatadhara dives into the myth of Pisacha Bandhanam, an ancient rite meant to bind spirits to guard hidden treasure. This idea—half legend, half warning—becomes the foundation on which Venkat Kalyan builds a narrative about belief, greed, and the perilous cost of knowing too much.

Sudheer Babu takes on the role of Shiva, a ghost hunter who believes in reason until the supernatural strips him of it. His evolution from skeptic to believer is subtle yet magnetic. He doesn’t perform disbelief or faith; he lives them, each revelation etching something new into his silence.

Sonakshi Sinha, making her Telugu debut as Dhana Pisaachi, is both ethereal and terrifying. Her portrayal of a spirit caught between vengeance and devotion is layered with emotion and control. When she rises as the vengeful goddess, Sonakshi doesn’t just inhabit the frame—she consumes it.

Divya Khossla’s Sitara offers serenity amid chaos, grounding the storm with her composed performance. Shilpa Shirodkar and Indira Krishna add maturity and quiet gravitas, while Rajeev Kanakala, Jhansi, and Subhalekha Sudhakar bring human warmth to a story dominated by the mystical.

What makes Jatadhara truly compelling is its tone. It treats faith not as a plot device but as a question—fragile, frightening, and endlessly fascinating. Venkat Kalyan’s writing respects myth while challenging its boundaries. He doesn’t preach; he probes. The dialogues by Sai Krishna Karne and Shyam Babu Meriga linger softly, blending philosophical weight with human emotion.

Cinematographer Sameer Kalyani captures the sacred and the sinister in equal measure. His visuals shimmer between devotion and dread—the golden glow of temple lamps, the deep greens of Kerala, the smoke swirling like memory itself. Each ritual scene feels alive, pulsing with energy that’s as visual as it is spiritual.
Rajiv Raj’s music mirrors that mood, fusing classical undertones with haunting modern soundscapes. The chants, silences, and beats weave a sound design that feels elemental. The dance sequence with Divya Khossla becomes an invocation, a prayer that moves with both beauty and danger.

The film’s action choreography fuses violence with symbolism—each movement feels ritualistic rather than random. Sudheer Babu’s physicality adds conviction to the climactic sequences, where science surrenders and faith takes over.

Produced by Zee Studios and Prerna Arora, Jatadhara emerges as more than just a supernatural thriller—it’s a meditation on belief itself. It dares to suggest that horror doesn’t always come from the unknown; sometimes, it’s born from the truths we already hold sacred.

Beautifully shot, spiritually charged, and emotionally grounded, Jatadhara stands at the crossroads of devotion and dread. It doesn’t ask you to believe—it asks if you’re brave enough to.