Kankhajura review: Roshan Matthew carries a middling TV drama on his back for as long as he can!

The eight-episode Kankhajura is a thriller that opts for cheap thrills rather than becoming the riveting revenge drama its premise promises.

There’s something inherently gripping about watching a mentally unstable character who’s been shoved so far into darkness that there’s no coming back. There’s a delicious intrigue in following someone whose dangerous intentions are cloaked as inevitable and justifiable because society itself has pushed him into oblivion. A series like YOU has recently mastered this with Joe Goldberg, where we are so drawn that despite how questionable his actions are, they feel like something that was bound to happen like the tragic missteps of an innocent creature. Kankhajura attempts to do something similar! It wants to build a villain-like protagonist whose sense of justice drives an entire revenge drama. Unfortunately, the series doesn’t trust the voice of its most intriguing character. Instead, it clings to the beats of the Israeli original Magpie, its remaking crushing a potentially exciting idea under the weight of trying to be an accessible drama.

This eight-episode series follows Ashu (Roshan Matthew), a young man reintegrating into society after serving 14 years in jail, with the support of his brother Max (Mohit Raina), a real estate mogul who helps him but also keeps him at arm’s length. But something feels off. Ashu appears both, innocent and mentally unwell, haunted by a trauma that induces stuttering and intensely harbors an obsessive need for Max’s validation. His desperate desire to be seen by a world that once bullied and erased him leads him into dangerous territory of Max’s real estate business, gangster rivalries, political corruption, and police investigations.

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What’s interesting is how director and adapter Chandan Arora tries to lens this show through a uniquely Indian context. It can be viewed in two ways, first as a reflection on the gentrification of Goa not just a tourist paradise, but a battleground where the poor are displaced to make way for White Lotus-style villas for the elite. This subplot introduces Deshmukh Bai (Usha Nadkarni), a local don of Shastri Colony, who demands that the rights of her people be respected as much as the privileges of the wealthy. Second, the series doubles as a revenge thriller orchestrated by a sociopath. Ashu’s need for vengeance stems from his yearning to be noticed by Max. He weaponises his madness as a tool for playing mind games, manipulating Max to isolate him from his loyal friends Shardul (Mahesh Shetty) and Pedro (Ninad Kamat). 

In short, the series aims to be a commentary of the marginalised lives, highlighting both, mentaly unstable individuals grappling with trauma and lower class communities aspiring to be visible and recognised. Perhaps that’s why Ashu’s love interest is a trans woman, Aimee (Trinetra Haldar Gummaraju), who herself is stuck in an abusive relationship. All the ingredients for a compelling, socially conscious thriller are here. What the show lacks is faith in its own voice and a sense of curiosity in its storytelling. For instance, we’re told that Ashu is referred to as Kankhajura (centipede), someone who can lure people into believing insane ideas, push them into crimes they’d never imagine, or even drive them to end their own lives. He’s perfect as a police mole because of this persuasive, almost hypnotic charm. But the show never lets us feel this power.

It tells us he's dangerous and disarmingly charming but never shows us how. And that is where the show’s core problem lies! It constantly throws important themes at us from gaslighting, trauma, and social exclusion but rarely develops them. These issues are reduced to throwaway flashbacks or convenient exposition. There’s little emotional build-up or deeper exploration. As a result, the show devolves into a middling TV drama where everyone seems to be in a selfish, petty pissing contest, equipped with only surface-level motivations. It becomes an elevated Indian soap, dressed in streaming-era aesthetics but never going beyond.

The only real saving grace here is Roshan Matthew. He plays Ashu with just the right mix of vulnerability and menace, lending this mentally unstable character both intrigue and believability. Like the common centipede, mostly harmless unless it enters your body, Ashu seems unthreatening until he worms his way in and makes others dance to his twisted tune. But there’s only so much Matthew can do when the script gives no clear logic to anyone’s actions or motivations including his. Unfortunately, not even talented actors like Mohit Raina, Sarah Jane Dias, and others can elevate their heavily underwritten parts. Which is disappointing, because had the creators taken this premise seriously and truly trusted the voice they kept hinting at, Kankhajura could’ve been a sharp, socially relevant dramedy-thriller, one that reveals how gaslighting isn't just emotional abuse but a powerful narrative tool capable of bending the truth so completely that it becomes a joke, wielded by those in power and understanding of the mechanics of manipulation.

Kankhajura is currently streaming on SonyLIV!

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