Tumbadchi Manjula Review: Middling Remake

Tumbadchi Manjula, the Marathi re-do of Su From So, sustains only by the original’s goodwill, notes Mayur Sanap.

Remake? In the age of streaming and pan-India scenario?

If Tumbadchi Manjula (Manjula From Tumbbad) were a person, it would have been at the receiving end of Miranda Priestly’s most devastating one-word review: ‘Groundbreaking’.

Accompanied, of course, by that trademark death stare.

Remakes are tricky business. You wonder, if all you are changing is the pin code and not the perspective, why tell the same story again?

Tumbadchi Manjula, which finds its source in last year’s Kannada blockbuster Su From So, unfolds in a similar coastal setting. But instead of Marluru in Dakshin Kannada, this Marathi remake moves the story to the Konkan region.

In a country where the landscape, language, and culture shift every few kilometres, it is amusing how little else changes here.

The film takes characters, their quirks and relationships, and simply places them in a new setting. What remains is a lazy frame-by-frame copy, rather than a fresh spin to the material.

If you haven’t seen the original, there are few moments to enjoy here (although I’d still recommend watching the original). But if you already know how the story unfolds, this version has nothing new to offer.

Tumbadchi Manjula: The Plot

The story follows Keshav (Om Bhutkar), a carefree young man whose attempt to hide an embarrassing mistake sparks a rumour that he is possessed by the spirit of an elderly woman. Instead of Sulochana, the ghost here is named Manjula.

This seemingly harmless lie spreads quickly, and people begin to add their own bits to the story.

Keshav&’s panic-stricken family summons Karunakaran (a droll Makarand Anaspure), a shady godman tasked with performing an exorcism. Even Ravi Anna (Jitendra Joshi), the village’s do-gooder and voice of reason, finds himself gobsmacked by the supposed supernatural presence in the village.

Caught in his own web of lies, Keshav is forced to keep up with his act, until everyone concludes that Manjula’s ghost is linked to Shobha (a standout Sai Tamhankar), who lives in a nearby village.

Where Tumbadchi Manjula Loses Steam

Director Vividh Korgaonkar, working from a script adapted by Rushikesh Turai, tries hard to replicate the chaotic energy that J P Thuminad had put so effortlessly in the Kannada original. The Marathi counterpart comes across rather laborious in its attempt to generate humour and juggle between its many eccentric characters.

Sai Tamhankar enters the story about an hour in. From that point, she carries the emotional core of the film. Her performance feels heart-achingly real, and gives the film some of its strongest moments.

The always watchable Om Bhutkar feels miscast, as if the role never quite settles on him. Perhaps it’s the shadow of J P Thuminad’s original portrayal that lingers, but Bhutkar doesn’t always click with the character’s energy and never quite fully owns Keshav’s shifting moods.

Jitendra Joshi, with two neat white patches in his stubble and curly hair, has a distinct look. He plays Ravi Anna with sincerity, but the role never moves beyond a straightforward ‘good man’ figure.

The other characters also lean into the film’s odd humour. There is an eccentric Ajji (Usha Nadkarni), a superstitious mother (Varsha Dandale), a drunk uncle (Abhay Khadapkar), a dependent friend (Anshuman Vichare).

A Zingaat-style celebration song brings most of these characters into the story. But too many flimsy supporting characters crowd the story, and the jokes don’t complement their presence.

In the end, any little energy Tumbadchi Manjula has feels borrowed from the source material. On its own, it remains a middling affair that sustains only by the original’s goodwill.