Written by: Siddhartha Krishnan | 4 Min Read

Jugnuma premiered at the Berlinale Film Festival in February 2024, and took nearly a year and a half to arrive at Indian theatres. In his second directorial venture in a decade, Raam Reddy, who made the brilliant Kannada film Thithi (2015), ventures into a Himalayan village to tell a fable. The story follows Dev and his family, who live in a colonial mansion they have inherited, surrounded by hundreds of acres of fruit estates, abundant, picturesque, and seemingly at peace. But something mysterious begins to set the estates and the surrounding forests ablaze. Unravelling the reasons behind this slow annihilation of a once-harmonious world forms the crux of the film.

If Thithi was rooted in social realism, Jugnuma marks a striking shift, blending magic realism into its narrative, a rarity in Indian cinema. Mythology, folklore, the unexplained, and the magical seep into the film’s fabric. Yet, beneath it all lies a resonant truth that shines through like the first morning sun over the Himalayas. This is auteur cinema, not for everyone, but for those who love pure cinema, Jugnuma could turn out to be an exciting watch.

There is an unmistakable sense of newness to the storytelling. It announces itself right from the opening sequence, a single, continuous five-minute shot that begins in the realm of the utterly mundane, before unexpectedly taking flight into uncharted territory. Raam Reddy trusts the intelligence of his audience, leaving much not just to interpretation, but also to imagination. He never over-explains his ideas. With a stellar cast that includes Manoj Bajpayee, Priyanka Bose, Deepak Dobriyal, and Tillotama Shome, the film has the space and the craft to bring its complex ideas to fruition.

Jugnuma explores several themes: disconnect with nature, inheritance and privilege, the exploitation of indigenous communities, and quieter undercurrents of escapism and identity. None of these ideas are thrust at the viewer. Instead, they unfold allegorically, expressed through whimsical tales, mythology, folklore, and moments of the fantastical.

Shot entirely on 16 mm film, the imagery is dreamlike, almost painterly, transporting the viewer to the late eighties. These grainy, textured frames deepen the film’s magic realism. They are rich with information and subtle hints, yet remain gentle on the eye, inviting contemplation rather than demanding it.

The performances in Jugnuma significantly elevate the storytelling. Manoj Bajpayee, as Dev, a man born into privilege yet grappling with a quiet identity crisis and a tendency towards escapism, brings the full weight of his craft to a demanding role. Deepak Dobriyal, as Dev’s estate manager, delivers a finely nuanced performance within limited screen time. His character also serves as the film’s narrator, grounding the story even as it drifts into the ethereal.

However, some aspects of the film have invited criticism. In its refusal to over-explain, the writing leaves several threads unresolved. Whether this is a deliberate artistic choice or an invitation for the audience’s imagination is open to interpretation. There are also characters whose presence feels fleeting, appearing for a scene or two without their narrative purpose fully crystallising, Tillotama Shome’s character being a case in point. This avoidance of neat resolution may leave sections of the audience unsettled.

Yet, this very refusal to explain itself is also where Jugnuma distinguishes itself. The film is never sanctimonious. Instead, it invites repeat viewings, rewarding patience with the quiet pleasure of discovery, and the possibility of revealing new meanings and textures each time one returns to it.

Conclusion:

With Jugnuma, Raam Reddy continues to evolve as a filmmaker unafraid of ambiguity and risk. Moving away from the grounded social realism of Thithi, he embraces magic realism, mythology, and folklore to craft a fable that reflects our fractured relationship with nature, privilege, and belonging. Shot on evocative 16 mm film, anchored by assured performances, and guided by a director who trusts his audience, the film asks not to be consumed casually, but to be experienced with patience and openness. It may frustrate those seeking clarity and closure, but for viewers willing to surrender to its rhythms, Jugnuma offers the rare pleasure of cinema that lingers, invites introspection, and rewards repeat viewings.

Verdict:

IMDb rating: 6.6/10
My rating: 3.5/5

You can watch Jugnuma: The Fable on Prime Video.

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About the author:

Siddhartha Krishnan is the author of ‘Two and a Half Rainbows – A Collection of Short Stories’. An enthusiastic blogger he shares his essays, travelogues, book and movie reviews on his blog (www.whatsonsidsmind.com).