Sci-mytho-fi:
In the end credits of Mandala Murders, Mahendra Jakhar’s novel The Butcher of Benaras is named as the source material. The synopsis of the 2014 book reveals an interesting plot, in which the FBI and a local cop try to unravel a plot involving the Bhrigu Samhita and the Vatican.
The web series on (on Netflix), has little in common with the book, even the town has been fictionalized to Charandaspur. Instead of the Vatican, a prologue introduces a secret cult, led by Rukmini (Shriya Pilgaonkar), worshipping their own god Yast. They are accused of black magic by the townsfolk living around their forest lair. The image of Yast resembles Leonardo da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man—a detail dropped by a character. Frankenstein’s Monster is also mentioned in case viewers don’t get the connection with stolen body parts. Created by Gopi Puthran, directed by him and Manan Rawat, Mandala Murders is hands down the grisliest show seen on OTT, as digits, limbs and heads are chopped, with mysteriously missing blood splatter.
The show aims at blending sci-fi with mythology and makes a hash of it. The sci-fi is laughable—a particle physicist builds a wish-fulfilling machine that looks like a cartoon robot and demands the sacrifice of a thumb (for what?). The mythology is mostly mumbo-jumbo. What Mandala Murders does reasonably well is the police procedural, as CIB officer Rea (Vaani Kapoor, stylishly ramp ready), and suspended Delhi cop Vikram (Vaibhav Raj Gupta) combine forces to solve the trail of murders. Both have deeper connections to the case than they ever imagined, and both are troubled by recent incidents that haunt them.
Vikram returns with his father (Manu Rishi Chadha) to their old home in Charandaspur, scarred by tragedy—a dead brother and missing mother. He reconnects with his old buddy Pramod (Sharat Sonu), because every hero needs a sidekick. They have barely unpacked when the body of a photographer they had met on the train is found floating in the river, missing his torso, and a mandala symbol carved on his forehead.
Imperiously striding down her palace and wooing the town’s population for the imminent elections is the wicked Ananya (Surveen Chawla), who has a bed-ridden husband, and also happens to be the sister of Vikram’s fiancée, now lying in a coma. Her political rivals are two gangsters (Rahul Bagga, Siddhanth Kapoor), who have their own short-lived track.
Soon the corpses start piling up. A “chhaya shastri” (Raghubir Yadav) claims that the murders are part of a ritual and that he’s next. Jimmy Khan (Jameel Khan), a garishly-clad hippy type has researched the symbolism of the mandalas and helps the case by decoding them. A book, aptly titled Macabre, written in the past by an Englishman (Edward Sonnenblick) who had witnessed the 1952 battle between the townsfolk and the Yast-sect (over, believe it not, a nuclear power plant), supplies a helpful history, so that eventually, the purpose of the many characters in the show is explained—including their hallucinations. Over back-and-forward timelines, multiple subplots, a profusion of minor characters, and some pointless scenes, the writers (Gabe Gabriel, Matt Graham, Gopi Puthran) are particular about the peculiar logic of what is happening and why, hence the dense writing.
In the last episode with the introduction of an OTT star, and Rea resolving to get to the bottom of the workings of the cult, there seems to be a sequel on the way.
The scenes of the fictional Charandaspur’s nooks and crannies and the action sequences are efficiently shot by Shaz Mohammed and Sandeep Gn Yadav), though the many close-ups of chopped up bodies could have been avoided.
Vaani Kapoor, Surveen Chawla and Vaibhav Raj Gupta have the bulk of the scenes and keep the show watchable. However, the gruesome, nightmare-evoking visuals take away from the popcorn enjoyment of a crime thriller.
(This piece first appeared in scroll.in)