The Allure and the Aftermath


Aditya Sarpotdar’s Thamma came with the perfect recipe for success — a proven director fresh off Munjya, a bankable cast led by ayushmann khurrana and rashmika mandanna, and the backing of Maddock Films’ hit “Horror-Comedy Universe.” Yet, instead of roaring triumph, the film finds itself at the center of a growing debate: Did the inclusion of three big, glitzy item numbers elevate the entertainment quotient — or strip the story of its spine?


At first glance, Thamma has everything a commercial entertainer demands — glossy visuals, catchy hooks, and rashmika sizzling in elaborate dance sequences. But beneath that shimmer lies a painful truth: the film’s supernatural soul has been drowned in sound, sparkle, and spectacle.




A Haunted Musical Detour


Unlike Stree or Munjya, where music organically builds the tension or punctuates the laughs, Thamma’s songs arrive like uninvited guests in the middle of a séance. Instead of amplifying the chills, they interrupt the rhythm. The audience, just getting invested in the eerie tone, is suddenly thrown into a music video set.


Sarpotdar defended his creative call, calling the songs “marketing assets.” And in a purely business sense, he’s not wrong — every Rashmika-led number grabbed millions of YouTube views even before the film’s release. But while the marketing may have worked, the storytelling took a bullet. The songs became visual padding — glossy, glamorous, but emotionally hollow.




When the music Drowns the Message


Horror-comedy thrives on balance — tension, humor, and emotion must co-exist seamlessly. But Thamma forgets that rule. The film tries to blend supernatural dread with romantic beats, only to lose both in the process. Instead of building momentum, the item songs break it.

Each dance number feels like a commercial break in a story that was already struggling for consistency. 


By the time the ghostly mystery takes center stage again, the audience has emotionally checked out. Even Ayushmann Khurrana’s reliable charm and Rashmika’s magnetism can’t salvage scenes that feel disconnected and misplaced.


In trying to please everyone — the fans who crave glamour and the audience who seek gripping storytelling — Thamma ends up pleasing no one completely.




A Missed Opportunity for the Maddock Universe


The Maddock Horror-Comedy Universe (Stree, Roohi, Bhediya, Munjya) was built on a sharp blend of satire, spooks, and social commentary. Thamma had the chance to expand that world, perhaps even connect the dots further. But instead of deepening the mythology, it distracts from it.


What should’ve been a chilling, witty exploration of love and the afterlife turns into a spectacle of lights, choreography, and half-baked scares. The emotional thread between the leads is undercut by musical overkill, and the film’s eerie tone never fully recovers.




The Glamour Gamble: A Marketing Win, A Creative Loss


It’s not that Rashmika’s item songs lack energy — they’re vibrant, flawlessly shot, and instantly viral. The real problem is context. In a genre where atmosphere and pacing matter most, every detour costs tension.


Sarpotdar’s “marketing strategy” may have brought in opening-day eyeballs, but at the expense of long-term credibility. In the age of streaming and smarter storytelling, audiences no longer fall for glitter without grit. They want layered stories, not just larger-than-life visuals.


What’s ironic is that Thamma, with its premise and potential, could’ve been the next Stree — instead, it chose to chase Sheila Ki Jawani.




In Thamma, rashmika mandanna dances like a dream — but the film dreams of being something it never becomes. Aditya Sarpotdar plays safe, banking on glamour to carry a story that needed guts and grit. The result is a visually arresting but emotionally hollow experience — proof that not all hauntings need ghosts; sometimes, it’s creative choices that do the haunting.


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