Usiru Movie Review: Sacred vows, brutal murders, and a thriller short of breath

Usiru Movie Review: A film set against the windswept Stuart Hills, Usiru opens with a ritual that immediately sets the stage for something different. Pregnant women, under a full moon, gather before Katamma, the local goddess, praying for safe childbirth. It is a tradition steeped in faith, but one that doesn’t sit easily with everyone. A sceptic curses the idol, dismissing the very sanctity of the vow. This contradiction between belief and disbelief could have been the film’s spine — a clash of faith, violence, and the unknown. Unfortunately, Usiru by director Panem Prabhakar chooses instead to scatter itself across crime drama, family emotion, and slasher thrills, never quite settling on what it wants to be.

Director: Panem Prabhakar

Cast: Tilak, Santhosh Nadivada, Apoorva Nagraj, Priya Hegde, Bala Rajawai, and Raaghu Ramanakoppa

The story runs on two distinct tracks. On one side is Surya (Santhosh Nadivada), introduced as a juvenile in police custody, whose love for his mother and instinct to protect her define his violent outburst. His time in prison becomes a canvas for redemption, guided by Inspector (Bala Rajawadi) and softened by the presence of the Inspector's daughter Siri (Apoorva Nagraj). Years later, when he steps out seeking answers about his murdered parents, he is weighed down with grief and vengeance.

Parallelly, Raj (Tilak), a cop demoted to a sleepy village, arrives with his pregnant wife Aishwarya (Priya Hegde). The couple’s domestic warmth is set against an escalating dread. Pregnant women go missing every August, only to be found mutilated. Constable Narayan (Raaghu Ramanakoppa) briefs Raj about missing teens, smuggling, and murders, but he sidesteps conflict to keep his family safe. However, a pregnant woman's murder leads Raj into the orbit of Simon, Rocket, and a coterie of masked men who seem ripped out of a pulp crime novel. Raj is torn: does he bury himself in safety for his wife’s sake, or risk everything to confront a horror that circles back year after year?

On paper, this dual narrative is ambitious. Faith rituals, a cursed vow, a boy scarred by violence, and a cop confronting systemic evil. The material is ripe for a layered psychological thriller. But on screen, Usiru struggles to align its ambitions. Songs puncture the tension. Graphic violence is used as shock value rather than storytelling. Characters like Surya, who begin with emotional heft, are reduced to plot devices as the film lurches into its second half. The story slips between investigation and gore, losing the suspense it sets out to build.

That said, the film is not without moments that linger. Raj tracing the murders to a chilling annual cycle has the pull of a proper crime procedural. The childhood flashbacks of Surya, his bond with his mother, and the fragile imagery of dolls and paper boats give the film the texture it otherwise lacks. The Stuart Hills backdrop, with its mist and shadows, adds atmosphere that the script doesn’t always earn.

But thrillers live and die by their rhythm, and Usiru cannot hold its breath long enough. It hints at the contrast between faith and fear, cycles of violence, and the fragility of redemption, but weakens them with excess. The result is a film that is unsettling without being suspenseful, and ambitious without being cohesive.

Usiru, which means 'breath', begins with a setup that holds promise — part cultural fable, part crime drama — but its uneven delivery leaves it gasping for consistency.