'Mandala Murders' Review: Too Many Riddles, Not Enough Reward

From Occult Thriller To Traffic Jam Of Timelines

We begin in the smoke-filled corridors of 1952, where a secretive matriarchal cult called The Ayastha is busy brewing something arcane. At the centre of this spiritual stew stands Rukmini Bharadwaj, played by Shriya Pilgaonkar with stone-cold focus. Her disciples speak in cryptic phrases, light candles like it is a full-time job, and work on constructing a mystical device called the Yastha with the assistance of an unknown person. What does it do? Apparently it can revive the dead and cleanse the world but the sensibilities and actual intention of this yantra-making practice is something else.

Just as you begin to feel that familiar genre high, the show jumps seventy five years into the present. No warning. No pause. From that point onward, the story becomes a genre-twisting amusement park with no map and too many rides operating at once.

So Many Characters You Might Need A Seating Chart

In modern day Charandaspur, the past is still breathing. Surveen Chawla plays Ananya Bharadwaj, a political climber with a troubled marriage and even murkier past. She is fighting institutional rot and personal shadows all at once. Then comes Vikram, played by Vaibhav Raj Gupta. A cop by profession, a man on a mission by design, Vikram lands in Charandaspur hoping to uncover the truth behind his fiancée’s fate.

And finally, Vaani Kapoor arrives as Rea Thomas. Calm, alert, and the most grounded presence in this swirling fog. As a CIB officer investigating a string of grotesque murders, Rea carries the burden of logic in a world spinning into myth. Vaani plays her with measured cool, a character who looks like she does not buy any of the spiritual mumbo jumbo and still finds herself knee deep in it.

Each of these three could have been the anchor of their own show. Instead, they are tossed into one that keeps handing out new flashbacks and fresh trauma every few scenes. Way too many backstories and just too much baggage to an extent where it feels lazy and pounced upon.

The Murders Are Wild But The Mystery Keeps Wandering

Let us talk about the bodies. They are not just dead. They are crafted. One is found with his face stitched onto dismembered legs. Another staged like a yantra. The killer is not leaving clues. They are leaving performance art. The police treat it like homicide. The cult sees it as a cosmic message.

Initially, you are intrigued. Every murder feels like a coded riddle from another dimension. But soon, the mystery starts getting high on its own incense. The clues get buried under abstract speeches, clue reveals with sanskrit words, flashbacks to flashbacks. There is a point where a character literally chants his way through an exposition dump. Not even the subtitles can keep up.

The thrill fizzles. The tension drops. What could have been a sharp mystery turns into a scavenger hunt at a very confusing spiritual retreat. The jumping timelines don't help, the back-and-forth doesn't feel organic and well-edited. The moment you are trying to invest yourself in something, you are taken out of it.

Vaani Kapoor Is Stellar In The Show While The Writing Loses The Plot

Vaani Kapoor emerges as the unlikely MVP here. As Rea Thomas, she delivers a performance that is sharp, restrained, and finally gives her a character worth inhabiting. She plays it cool when everyone else is emoting at maximum volume. You trust her. You want to follow her. And most of all, you want her to run a background check on the writers.

Surveen Chawla is dependable as always. Ananya is constantly being pulled between ambition and history, and Surveen handles every pivot with finesse. But her arc feels cluttered. The writing gives her a hundred emotions and no space to breathe between them.

Vaibhav Raj Gupta plays Vikram with wounded sincerity. He is soft spoken, haunted, and genuinely compelling in the early episodes. But the show parks him in emotional quicksand. He mourns, then mourns again, then mourns some more. His arc feels like a heartbreak playlist stuck on repeat.

The side characters, meanwhile, deliver unexpected punch. Some of them begin as background furniture and later drive major plot swings. There is effort in the casting and it shows. There are also two cameos planted like post credit teasers. Yes, they are setting up a sequel. No, it does not feel earned.

Lore Is Not Plot And Symbolism Is Not Suspense

The biggest issue with Mandala Murders is its obsession with being profound. Every line wants to sound like prophecy. Every character wants to carry generational trauma. Every flashback wants to be a spiritual revelation. Somewhere in this dramatic fog, the basic ingredients of storytelling get misplaced.

You need plot. You need cause and effect. You need characters who evolve instead of spiral. This show builds mood but forgets momentum. It tosses in ideas from mythology, politics, mental health, gender, and grief but never builds bridges between them. Each theme arrives with its own music and then exits without resolution.

What starts as a layered thriller quickly turns into an overstuffed narrative buffet. Everything is on the table. Nothing feels fully cooked.

The Grand Finale Feels Like A Teaser For Another Show

The last episode does not answer questions. It creates more. You are not rewarded for watching. You are baited into returning. The central mystery fizzles out. Characters are left mid sentence. Once new face enter and stare meaningfully at the camera. Another one's cameo is important but seems underwhelming. The season ends not with a climax but a trailer for another chapter.

Clearly the makers want a franchise. But to earn that, the first installment needs to deliver a complete story. Here, the ambition is vast but the payoff is microscopic. It is like being promised a secret temple and being shown a half painted door.