Dilmaar Movie Review:
Psycho Shukla (Ram Gowda) is an A-Class lover in Dilmaar. He fights for his feelings rather than giving up. At first, he seems like a typical one-sided lover. In Dilmaar, debut director M Chandramouli, known for his work as a writer on KGF, attempts to mix action, romance, humour, and madness. The result is an ambitious yet uneven blend of passion and pain. It hints at psychological depth but largely oscillates between mass entertainment, romance, and sacrifice.
Shukla is a passionate and mysterious youngster who arrives in a village and quickly falls for Akshara (Aditi Prabhudeva), the daughter of Shaane Gowda (Sharath Lohith), a powerful man. However, Akshara is already in love with Vishal and is preparing to marry him. Shukla’s relentless pursuit of her love throws the village into chaos. Akshara’s angry brother Bhaira and Vishal’s gang have reasons to confront this self-proclaimed ‘lover'.
Director: M Chandramouli
Cast: Ram Gowda, Sai Kumar, Aditi Prabhudeva, Dimple Hayathi, and Sharath Lohitashwa
The first half of the film follows the formula of a commercial entertainer, filled with catchy dialogues and stylised fights. Chandramouli relies heavily on one-liners and action-packed sequences designed to thrill the audience. Yet beneath this mass-appeal facade lies a darker story: a man whose love borders on obsession and whose heart gradually overtakes his sanity.
Chandramouli makes an interesting casting choice by pairing newcomer Ram Gowda with veteran Sai Kumar, who plays the antagonist with his usual commanding presence. With his baritone, Sai Kumar delivers memorable lines, yet the screenplay does not provide the emotional depth his character deserves. Menacing though he is, the villain remains underdeveloped, a shadow that never fully materialises.
Amidst the tension, the director occasionally lightens the mood with humour, keeping the tone balanced even as blood spills and tempers flare. The film truly comes alive in the second half, where Shukla’s unusual mindset takes centre stage. A flashback involving Maya (Dimple Hayathi), a woman from his past, reveals the man behind the madness. Shukla initially resists love, but after heartbreak with Maya, he becomes drawn to Akshara, connecting her to memories that haunt him. Chandramouli maintains suspense right up to the climax.
Dilmaar explores psychological nuance. Shukla’s musings on love, destiny, and death unfold like diary entries of a man who refuses to heed reason. His friend calls him a psycho, a man who laughs at funerals and prays to electric poles because he believes God is everywhere. Shukla listens to his heart over his mind; when logic warns him, he ignores it. This conflict fuels both his madness and his humanity.
In a scene, Shukla stands in a crematorium and says, “This place teaches more lessons than life itself.” It encapsulates the film’s essence: a man who loves too deeply, thinks too little, and lives entirely by emotion. Chandramouli builds a story around the chaos between heart and mind, where love turns obsessive and passion teeters on the edge of madness.
Ram Gowda’s debut performance as Shukla oscillates between affection and insanity, leaving the audience unsure whether to pity or fear him. Aditi Prabhudeva brings grace and nuance to Akshara, torn between sympathy, confusion, and fear. Dimple Hayathi, though brief, leaves a lasting impact as Maya. Sai Kumar, despite his formidable presence, remains underutilised, functioning more as a symbol of anger than as a layered villain.
Chandramouli’s direction is bold but uneven. His writing bears the hallmarks of mass cinema: loud, punchy, and occasionally heavy-handed. While the dialogues hit in isolation, the story struggles to balance mass appeal with emotional resonance. Dilmaar aims to depict how love can drive a man to madness, but at times, it prioritises style over substance.
Despite its flaws, the film earns credit for exploring the fine line between love and obsession within a mainstream framework. It is occasionally engaging, a story of a man grappling with his heart, refusing to listen to his brain, and losing gracefully.
Dilmaar is ultimately a tale of love, obsession, ego, and the cost of feeling too deeply. It asks what happens when emotion takes the reins, even if it leads one over the edge. The film is uneven but fascinating, blending mass appeal, romance, and action, where love shines brighter than logic, sometimes too brightly for its own good.