Cult Movie Review: A fresh breeze through the familiar story of love and heartbreak
Cult(3 / 5)
Cult Movie Review:
‘Bloody love, RIP’ is what Maddy (Zaid Khan) writes on the shirt of a newlywed stranger; it’s a joke that serves as a warning. This line captures Cult’s perspective on life.
Maddy is a college dropout who wanders the streets of Manipal, often drunk, with a cigarette. He claims he can read fate on foreheads while questioning if a woman can genuinely shape a man’s future. He ruminates on love, saying, “There is no love, only feelings.” He sounds less like a philosopher and more like someone weary of the world. This thought forms the foundation of the film, portraying relationships that swing between obsession, convenience, and emotional exploitation.
Cast: Zaid Khan, Rachita Ram
Malaika Vasupal, Rangayana Raghu, Achyuth Kumar, All Ok, and Kishan Bilagali
Director: Anil Kumar
Writer-director Anil Kumar plunges us into this restless emotional realm. Here, love is a battleground, lust is rampant, and heartbreak is a routine. Emotional collapse isn’t unusual; it’s a way of life. Cult takes apart the concept of romance rather than celebrating it. Love isn’t sacred; it’s complex, painful, and often transactional—more about damage than destiny.
This cynicism has roots. A flashback shows that Maddy’s harshness isn’t a weapon but a wound, something his friend Joy (All Ok) grasps. Each flashback introduces us to Maddy, who is actually Madhava, and Geetha (Malaika Vasupal), young lovers in a village, still in school, and still hopeful. Life disrupts their plans. When Geetha moves to the city, her ambitions grow, and stability starts to matter more than feelings. She opts for security, leaving Madhava emotionally abandoned.
Then enters Ithihasini, or Ithi (Rachita Ram), who helps Maddy piece himself back together. Their affection grows cautiously, nearly timidly. But Ithi carries a heavier past than Madhava’s, one that isn’t about romance. Just when life begins to feel stable, it raises the question of which path Madhava will ultimately choose.
The transitions between past and present are not just storytelling tools; they create emotional contrasts. Maddy’s smoking habit, with Geetha’s name on every cigarette, becomes a token of unattained desire. In contrast, Ithi lives a quieter life, independent and shaped by responsibility, supported by her father, a guide at Hampi. The film suggests that life rarely goes as planned.
Achyuth Kumar plays Madhava’s father, depicting middle-class traits—neither harsh nor indulgent, but emotionally restrained. He reminds us that parents also love imperfectly, often speaking in practical terms rather than offering comfort. The brief friendship between Rangayana Raghu and Rachita Ram adds warmth, even when the story remains heavy.
Zaid Khan effectively portrays Madhava’s innocence alongside Maddy’s volatile side, switching between boyish fragility and brash boldness. He excels in action scenes and is passable in sharp emotional shifts. A scene where he slaps a woman who crosses a line is intentionally unsettling, emphasising how Maddy draws strict boundaries between desire and respect, all while his emotional state remains conflicted.
Malaika Vasupal brings youthful charm to her village character while also showcasing emotional depth beneath the banter. Their chemistry shines through in small gestures, hesitant kisses, and lingering glances, evoking nostalgia for a time when love felt awkward and unguarded before ambition and insecurity complicated it. Here it is where Kishan Bilagali makes a brief appearance as antagonist.
Rachita Ram merges vulnerability and strength as Ithi, capturing the exhaustion of a woman battling many emotional struggles on her own. Her performance stands out as one of the film’s quiet strengths, grounding the melodrama in real experiences.
Cult also brings up important social issues: how bold women face quick and harsh judgment, how trauma is overlooked, and how parental expectations shape emotional decisions. Ithi’s past isn’t just a romantic subplot; it comments on how easily society dismisses women’s suffering. Geetha’s choices spark moral debates about whether she is right or wrong for prioritising stability at her age.
At its core, the film raises uneasy questions about love and survival. Are feelings sufficient in a world focused on stability and ambition? Who is allowed to express their pain openly, while others are taught to endure? However, it doesn’t provide answers. It continuously circles these questions, sometimes contradicting itself, just like its main character. This emotional fluctuation becomes both its identity and its challenge.
The film is technically competent. Arjun Janya’s music enhances the atmosphere, while the cinematography effectively contrasts the warmth of the village with the coldness of the city. Still, the narrative lingers too long on emotional stagnation.
Cult shares echoes with familiar romantic tales. It will divide audiences into those who appreciate its brutal honesty and those who perceive it as overly self-absorbed.
Messy, emotionally intense, and often indulgent, Cult also offers sincerity and sharp insight. It captures the confusion of first love, the bitterness of betrayal, and the gradual loss of trust with authentic realism. Anil Kumar shows promise in exploring the middle-class emotional landscapes, even when heartbreak serves as the film’s premise.
In a world of formulaic romantic films, Cult stands apart for its unfiltered honesty and for gently recognising that behind every broken young lover, there is often a parent loving in silence. That feels like a quiet act of rebellion.