Sister Midnight (15) |Close-Up Film Review

Uma (Radhika Apte) is full of hope when she leaves her rural home for Mumbai, stepping into what she assumes will be an exciting new chapter with her husband, Gopal (Ashok Pathak). But reality hits fast—her marriage is more of a cage than a new beginning. Gopal is passive, inattentive, and utterly oblivious to her frustration, leaving Uma feeling trapped in a life she never really chose.

With loneliness creeping in, Uma finds an unlikely confidante in her straight-talking neighbour, Sheetal (Chhaya Kadam), who introduces her to the unfiltered chaos of city life. Just as she starts settling into the rhythm of Mumbai, a strange encounter at a wedding changes everything. One insect bite later, Uma finds herself drawn to the night, developing odd cravings and an unsettling sense of empowerment. What follows is a wild, darkly funny, and deeply unsettling transformation that sees Uma shed not just societal expectations but maybe a little bit of her humanity too.

Radhika Apte is nothing short of phenomenal. She throws herself into the role, making Uma’s transformation feel raw, electric, and completely unhinged in the best way. Watching her go from a stifled housewife to a woman embracing her most primal instincts is an absolute ride—equal parts disturbing and exhilarating.

One of the film’s standout elements is its eclectic soundtrack. Who would have thought Motörhead, vintage Cambodian rock, and early blues would pair so well with a surreal feminist horror story? And yet, somehow, the music becomes the perfect backdrop to Uma’s descent—or ascension, depending on how you see it.

Visually, the film is just as striking. Cinematographer Sverre Sørdal paints a vivid picture of Mumbai, contrasting its pulsating energy with the dull, suffocating world Uma initially inhabits. The use of colour is particularly clever—bland, washed-out tones dominate her early life, only for richer, bolder hues to seep in as she embraces her new reality.  Costume designer Shruti Gupte also plays a key role in storytelling. Uma’s wardrobe transformation—from restrained traditional wear to bolder, freer choices—mirrors her inner rebellion, making her evolution feel even more tangible.

The supporting cast adds further depth, with Ashok Pathak nailing the role of the hapless, oblivious husband and Chhaya Kadam shining as the fiercely independent Sheetal. They help ground the story, making Uma’s metamorphosis feel all the more striking in contrast.

Kandhari’s direction is confident and fearless, never spoon-feeding the audience. The film swings between comedy and horror with unsettling ease, using choppy edits and dreamlike sequences to keep viewers off balance. It’s a film that thrives on its unpredictability, refusing to stick to a traditional narrative structure.

That said, Sister Midnight is definitely not for everyone. The erratic shifts in tone and surreal elements might throw off viewers looking for a more straightforward experience. But for those who enjoy films that challenge conventions and revel in the weird, this one is an absolute treat.

In short, Sister Midnight is wild, witty, and wholly original. It’s a dark comedy with bite (again, literally), blending horror and humour into a fierce, feminist fever dream. Expect the unexpected!