Jarann – Where Black Magic Meets Black Coffee: Bitter, Bold, and Keeps You Up All Night (Theatrical Release)

Jarann – Where Black Magic Meets Black Coffee: Bitter, Bold, and Keeps You Up All Night

(Theatrical Release)

Marathi cinema is fast becoming the Stephen King of the Deccan Plateau — crafting tales that don’t scream horror, but breathe it gently down your neck. From Tumbbad’s mythic murk to Lapachhapi’s haunting lullabies and Valvi’s twisted satire, our filmmakers are now conjuring thrillers that are rooted, real, and richly unnerving. And Jarann? It doesn’t just join the party — it turns off the lights and locks the door behind you.

As someone who grew up on Narayan Dharap’s गूढ़कथाs , I’ve always believed that the most terrifying things wear familiar faces — an old cupboard, a cracked wall, or that one neighbour who always knows too much. Jarann taps into that same fear, stirring it with a ladle of black magic and a pinch of psychological dread.

This is not the horror of cheap thrills. This is the horror of ancestral secrets, slow dread, and rituals performed in half-lit corners — the kind whispered about in hushed tones, but never Googled.

And then there’s the वाडा ,not just a house, but a haunted personality with a stone spine. With its towering doors, rusty attics, solitary staircases, and long, silent corridors, the Vada is as much a character as any actor. It creaks, it sighs, and you can almost smell something sinister seeping through its walls. If houses could hold grudges, this one surely does.

Speaking of actors, the performances are a masterclass in holding back and then erupting. Kishor Kadam simmers like a stormcloud, Anita Date-Kelkar delivers a फाड़ू performance , but Amruta Subhash? She commands the screen like a possessed priestess on opening night. NSD may have trained her, but this performance feels born of something much older… and darker.

The background score is that friend who doesn’t talk much but always manages to creep you out with their timing. It’s subtle, spooky, and sets the tone without saying a word — like a shadow that doesn’t match your movement.

The screenplay doesn’t gallop — it stalks. And just when you think the film is showing its cards, it pulls a fast one and you’re back to square eerie.

Overall, jarann is not just a film; it’s a dark invocation. A slow-burning psychological thriller that doesn’t jump-scare you — it spiritually pokes you. A ritualistic ride into the unknown, driven by standout performances and unsettling ambience.

So go ahead — book your ticket, enter the Vada, and let Jarann cast its slow, sticky spell. Just don’t forget to look behind you on the way out. You never know what followed you home.