The supernatural-mystery stuff is well balanced with Baramulla's more grounded, socially realistic elements, making it one of the most unique and creatively well-realised Hindi films Mayur Sanap has seen in a long time.
It's always fascinating when a film keeps switching tones so seamlessly that you can't pin it down to a single genre.
Netflix's earlier release Inspector Zende attempted to mix humour with thrills but didn't quite succeed.
In Baramulla, the tonal shifts are handled more effectively.
It opens with a gripping setup: A mysterious disappearance, a tense build-up, and the sense that something far more sinister is lurking beneath the surface.
For a while, it felt like we might be getting a Hindi equivalent of Zach Cregger's interesting film, Weapons.
Both share a similar core premise: A dark mystery built around the disappearance of children.
But halfway through, Baramulla takes such an unexpected swing that makes the experience different, yet so much more engaging. Unlike the anti-climactic Weapons, the shift here doesn't feel abrupt, rather it hits harder because of the thematic depth the story carries.
The story revolves around the investigation around the mysterious disappearances of young boys in the Kashmir Valley.
DSP Ridwaan Shafi Sayyed (Manav Kaul) is newly transferred to Baramulla to lead the case.
The officer has moved with his wife Gulnaar (Bhasha Sumbli) and their children.
The family settles into a run-down old house in town, and soon, unsettling things start to happen -- the children sense what others can't, eerie sounds echo through the halls, unexplained smells in the air, and there's a constant feeling of being watched.
As more children go missing and tensions in the town escalate, Ridwaan finds himself caught in a far darker mystery that puts his own family at risk.
The winning writer-director duo of Article 370, Aditya Dhar and Aditya Suhas Jambhale, returns to Kashmir with yet another startling story and handles it with a surprising confidence.
Baramulla touches upon several issues ravaging the Valley, but given its supernatural thriller touch to the story, the film uses the setting of Kashmir as both literal and metaphorical horror.
The blend of genres is also interesting to watch, as the film juggles tones in a balanced way, adding moments of real intrigue. It is a crime investigation, a family drama, a revenge story. At one moment, it feels like a mystery, the next like a thriller, and then takes an unexpected emotional turn.
Jambhale skillfully employs old-school horror, without going overboard with the usual jumpscare trick. The horror elements feel atmospheric, put to great effect through the lens of Arnold Fernandes.
The team makes some smart stylistic choices for the gradual escalation of unease and it's filled with striking visuals -- like the eerie dark smoke swirling through the decaying house or the glowing eyes of a shadowy figure lurking in the darkness.
This is really one of the most unique and creatively well-realised Hindi films I've seen in a long time.
All this supernatural-mystery stuff is well balanced with the film's more grounded, socially realistic elements.
But as the narrative unfolds, the story feels far too simple and predictable for its own good.
The film falters a bit with a few plot points that aren't explored as much as they could be. Even Kaul's protagonist is largely pushed into the corner once the twist is revealed.
Still, what makes Baramulla stands out is how confidently it holds your attention.
While the final reveal plays too safe and it can be hit-or-miss for some, the journey leading there is so engaging that it's hard not to admire the film as a whole.
Baramulla streams on Netflix.
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