Estimated reading time: 5 minutes
Khauf: A metaphor for survival
As a lifelong fan of the genre, I understand that horror is subjective. What scares one person may seem tame to another. Amazon Prime series Khauf is a great example of this phenomenon, and as a result, it has garnered some mixed reviews. One camp wondered why this series merited the horror tag, while the other camp found themselves deeply unsettled. To me, this was a disturbing tale.
A plot that thickens
After a violent sexual assault, Madhu (Monika Panwar, Jamtara, Super 30) comes to Delhi from Gwalior for a new start. With the help of her boyfriend Arun (Abhishek Chauhan) and a friend, she finds a job and a place to stay. Unbeknownst to her, her room in the hostel is haunted. What starts as a simple haunted-house story quickly morphs into a layered, dark, and violent tale about the hardships faced by urban women in today’s society. Soon, Madhu finds herself battling to keep her sanity, relationships, self-worth, freedom, life, and soul.
The real monster: Misogyny
There is an evil entity that haunts Madhu’s room. This being brings in all the tropes of horror: slamming doors, flickering lights, appearing in reflections, and possession. These, however, lead to barely a few jump scares. The real monster in this series is misogyny, which is the root cause of the events in this series – be it the men who think that every woman who earns money must be a prostitute, or female feticide, or the harassment women face in public transport, or the serial killer who drains the blood of his female victims.
Misogyny shapes every character in this series in some way or the other. It makes someone the victim, another the aggressor, while yet another becomes a silent witness. In some cases, it’s overt while in others it is understated, but it is the omnipresent shadow that looms large.
Impeccable cast, standout performances
Every single member of the cast has brought forth their A game. Each of them does full justice to their role. Be it the feisty Komal (Riya Shukla), or the lost Arun, or the rough-around-the-edges Gracie (Shalini Vatsa), or traumatized Nikita (Rashmi Mann), the performers live their characters. Two actors deserve a special mention: Priyanka Setia, who brings a jaded aura to her Rima, and Gitanjali Kulkarni, who personifies her character, Ilu Sharma’s desperation.
Satyam Sharma and Gagan Arora as Jeeva and Nakul respectively, bring such menace to their roles, I wanted to reach through the screen and slap them.
Amidst such a talented cast, Chum Darang and Rajat Kapoor stand out. The former plays Svetlana, who is simply trying to survive. Pushed to her limits, Svetlana is willing to go to any lengths to protect herself and those who matter to her. Rajat Kapoor as the witch doctor, Hakim, is an overbearing presence. Everything, from his appearance to his digitally altered voice, to his shuffling gait and his piercing stare, is designed to make the viewers uncomfortable, and it works!
The star performer, though, is Monika Panwar as the protagonist Madhu. Her character is put through the wringer, and Panwar portrays all her emotions and thoughts effectively. There is a scene where Madhu is distressed and is switching between frantic crying and an unnerving calm. It’s a difficult scene to pull off, and Panwar does so with panache. The scene where she is fighting for her soul with the evil entity could have easily turned cheesy in the hands of a lesser actor. Here, it is pure art.
When visuals speak
In horror stories, the environment is a character unto itself. In Khauf, the visual language is loud. There is palpable staleness in the air, with the damp walls, dark corridors, and washed-out colors. The lighting, or lack thereof, accentuates the darkness of the storyline. The streets of Delhi, the difference between the classes, the claustrophobic public transport – everything is shown without the characters saying a word to that effect. The visual depiction of possession and the soul fighting for its survival is powerful. The scene where the evil entity forces Madhu to relive her assault is chilling.
A taut script tells a tale of survival
Written by Smita Singh (Raat Akeli Hai, Sacred Games) Khauf is a tale of women trying to eke out a living in a man’s world. The judgment, the harassment, the suffocation, and the exhaustion that envelop a woman for merely existing are captured beautifully in the taut script. Directors Pankaj Kumar and Surya Balakrishnan use every tool in their arsenal to bring Singh’s vision to life, with very few missteps. Pankaj Kumar’s camera captures the mood of the series to perfection. One scene specifically stands out, where Rajat Kapoor talks to a child through a window. We don’t get to see him, just the hands and the contours of his face; it is an impactful scene. The music by Chris Mathai and Himanshu Prakash is a mixed bag. On occasion, it is haunting and eerie, but in some places, it is underwhelming.
Best in class, despite minor flaws
While the series starts slowly, the pace does pick up, but it takes long enough that it might deter some viewers. The pace becomes a significant issue in the final third of the series, where the narrative flounders. A scorpion motif runs through the show, yet, in the final moments, there is no conclusion to it, except for a mention of venom. The connection with the scorpion and the evil entity seems tenuous and shoehorned. There’s also some ambiguity about the lore. Did the death of a particular character end the entity as well? If so, was the other character hallucinating, or was someone really there? And what did the closing scene even mean? Do we need Season 2 for some answers?
Despite its flaws, Khauf is probably the best horror show to have come out in recent times.
