Secret Stories: Roslin Review

One advantage of long-form storytelling is the breathing room it affords filmmakers to establish characters, their conflicts — both internal and external — and their motives. In an era of shrinking attention spans, especially with big-screen experiences, web shows often feel like the ideal medium for stories that require patient marination before unveiling their juiciest layers. You can sense this intent in Secret Stories: Roslin, where the narrative takes its own sweet time to unfold. But at what cost?

Cast: Sanjana Dipu, Meena, Vineeth, Hakim Shahjahan
Director: Sumesh Nandakumar
Showrunner: Jeethu Joseph

The first three episodes of this six-part series drag excessively in setting up the world and its inhabitants. While things finally fall into place by the fourth episode and the intrigue begins to build, the damage has already been done.

Seventeen-year-old Roslin (Sanjana Dipu) is haunted by recurring nightmares of a green-eyed stranger trying to harm her. Her distress deepens when she begins spotting him in real life — stalking her, before eventually landing at her doorstep as the family’s new paying guest. Her fears, however, are dismissed by her parents (Vineeth and Meena), who attribute it all to her obsession with mystery novels.

Sanjana's arresting performance holds this psychological play together, as most of the tension lies not in what happens but in what the character endures internally. Her inability to distinguish dreams from reality, her guilt over her brother’s death, and her adolescent frustration. Sanjana handles these emotional layers with commendable restraint. Hakim Shahjahan, playing a character with multiple shades, is equally compelling. There is an effortless charm to his performance, which becomes integral to his character’s ability to manipulate and disarm those around him.

The series ticks most of the boxes of a conventional mystery drama: misty backdrops for mood building, long stretches of silence, a sprawling wooden house punctuated by ominous creaks, heavy shadows and silhouettes, and the mandatory hooded stranger. The tropes are hard to ignore. There is, of course, a climactic twist. Yet in hindsight, one cannot help but wonder whether much of the conflict could have been resolved had the two primary characters simply sat down for an open, honest conversation.

Vinayak Sasikumar, making his scripting debut, attempts to mask the loose ends, but some remain exposed. After such a prolonged buildup, one expects a more satisfying resolution. The twists do land to an extent, but their underlying reasoning feels too conventional and overly familiar. The lengthy monologue explaining the backstory leaves little room for the audience to piece things together themselves.

Over-dramatisation is another recurring issue. The dialogues often sound artificial, reminiscent of a dated stage play. Meena and Vineeth, both capable performers, are unfortunately the most affected. One might argue that the fakeness in dialogue delivery is part of a deliberate design, given the eventual twist. The show also eventually explains why Roslin’s parents, despite appearing ‘nice’, seem strangely unempathetic toward her distress. But these revelations arrive too late to salvage the emotional investment. There are also glimpses of thoughtful directorial touches, like the words on Roslin’s T-shirt during her first nightmare: “Everything happens for a reason.” Unfortunately, such moments are few and far between.