Stream It Or Skip It: ‘Baramulla’ on Netflix, An Indian Film Where A Cop’s Search For Missing Kids Takes A Supernatural Turn

In Baramulla, directed by Aditya Suhas Jambhale (Article 370), a veteran police captain, newly assigned to the Kashmir Valley region of northern India, quickly finds there are layers of complexity underlying his very first case. Local kids are disappearing, possibly through kidnapping for ransom. But while that’s awful, it’s also not so simple. In a region where unrest between Islamic militants and the Indian government still foments, there is also…something else afoot, which in Baramulla usually presents itself with a blast of foreboding musical eeriness. Manav Kaul, Bhasha Sumbli, Arista Mehta, and Ashwini Koul star.   

BARAMULLA: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT? 

The Gist: A single flower blooming against a backdrop of snow and mountains. A little boy is drawn to it. And just a short time later, he has disappeared. For freshly-arrived-in-town DSP Ridwaan Shafi Sayyed (Kaul), his first order of business is to dismiss the suspect his new crew of constables already detained – an itinerant magician, who was the last person in contact with the missing boy. There are too many weird clues, like a perfectly-snipped lock of hair left behind, that suggest something bigger is going on. 

Ridwaan is a smart, all-business investigator. But he’s also got lingering PTSD from a violent incident at his last post, and his workaholic nature has alienated him from his wife Gulnaar (Sumbli) and two children, middle schooler Noorie (Mehta) and baby of the family Ayaan (Rohaan Singh). It’s an alienation that increases as local pressure mounts to solve the disappearances, and he spends next to no time in the creaky, rambling old house where the family’s been lodged. Which is why it’s hard for Ridwaan to believe Gulnaar and the kids when they report strange occurrences, like phantom footsteps and an unseen dog barking. When we see Noorie drawn to another one of those mysterious flowers, this one rising from the floorboards in the attic, and Ayaan seeming to befriend a shadow shaped like a boy his age, it’s enough to wish Ridwaan would spend more time at home. 

Baramulla takes place in 2016, just 20 years after an exodus under duress of Kashmiri Hindus from the area. When Ridwaan’s kidnapping investigation targets Khalid (Koul), a man with ties to the Islamic militancy that’s clamoring for control of the valley, he’s startled to learn how wired in the guy is to the town’s young people. He was seen with some of the disappeared. Maybe even worse, Khalid was seen with Noorie. While Ridwaan and his men chase what leads they have, what progress they do make feels increasingly linked to the region’s difficult history of division and discord. 

And yet. There is also that reoccurring blast of eerie music on the soundtrack. The flowers that beckon to area children. And a family home with old bones that just might be haunted. Ridwaan must find the connection between Baramulla’s cultural and religious unrest and what feels like a supernatural presence in town, and fast, because his own family might disappear next. “Target his weak spot,” a mysterious voice says. “Freedom will be ours.” 

What Movies Will It Remind You Of? Baramulla joins an ongoing Netflix build-out of its offering of Indian originals. Manav Kaul also starred in the horror miniseries Sacred Games.  

But the creepier side of Baramulla? With its flock of missing, helpless local children and tension that builds around these mysterious circumstances? It inspired us to pair our viewing with another watch of Weapons. 

Performance Worth Watching: Manav Kaul is great here as DSP Ridwaan Shafi Sayyed. He’s in Guy You Trust mode during the police investigation, but also plays it well as Ridwaan’s serious nature is challenged by forces he can’t explain.

Memorable Dialogue: “The kidnappings are definitely not about the money.” Ridwaan’s rational approach is an asset when he’s dealing with hysterical local parents. It also creates significant conflict, as things way less easy to explain keep occurring.

Sex and Skin: None.

Our Take: There’s a Nordic Noir quality to Baramulla at times. You have your dedicated but damaged central character, a cop with personal dramas that soon bleed into his investigation. And you have a healthy, ever more scary bit of local weirdness going on, stuff that wouldn’t be easy to rationalize even if the entire region wasn’t already made unstable by clashing belief systems. There is a lot on Ridwaan’s plate, and we really liked how Baramulla traps its central investigator in tighter and tighter spots, places his training and experience has not prepared him for. 

While Baramulla is a big fan of that horror genre thing where it keeps showing bits and pieces of the inexplicable, elements that could add up to jump scares or full-on frights but could also just be misdirects – this can be both intriguing and mildly annoying; you know how it is – we also really liked how the film’s music, credited to Indian pop duo Shor Police, provided both stark, legitimately unsettling audio cues and a less-centered path. The soundtrack amplifies each side of this film, its reaches for the supernaturally strange and the fraught local history that informs Ridwaan’s work to solve the kidnappings. It creates effective balance. But as Netflix’s closed-captions kept hitting us with descriptions like “[diabolic music slows]” and [foreboding horn blares],” the music also became a kind of character in itself, which only added to the feel Baramulla develops as it heads into its satisfying climax.  

Our Call: Stream It. Baramulla brings us to a region of India rich in history and disagreement. But there’s something else lurking in these parts, too, something that cannot be banished through belief or violence, and we enjoyed that built-in tension.  

Johnny Loftus (@johnnyloftus.bsky.social) is a Chicago-based writer. A veteran of the alternative weekly trenches, his work has also appeared in Entertainment Weekly, Pitchfork, The All Music Guide, and The Village Voice.

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