Stolen Movie Review: A Heartbreaking Journey Into Loss and Humanity

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Every once in a while, a film comes along that feels less like fiction and more like a quiet punch to the gut. Stolen is one of those films.

I was expecting a typical missing-child thriller, something tense but familiar. What I didn’t expect was to feel this unsettled, this frustrated. Directed by Karan Tejpal, Stolen isn’t just about a kidnapping, it’s about the thin line between silence and action, safety and fear. It doesn’t offer big hero moments or courtroom speeches. What it gives instead is a tight, 90-minute narrative that grabs you off and quietly whispers that this could happen to anyone.

Set against the backdrop of an ordinary railway station, Stolen becomes anything but ordinary. With every scene, it breaks down our comfort, exposing the way society treats the excluded, the way social media distorts truth, and how quickly "helping someone" can become a dangerous act.

Where It All Begins: A Cry, a Choice, and the Chaos That Follows

The story begins in the most ordinary way possible: two brothers waiting at a dusty, odd railway station. Gautam (Abhishek Banerjee) is the older brother—level-headed, practical, and the kind of guy who wants to do the right thing, but only if it doesn’t stir up too much trouble. His younger brother, Raman (Shubham Vardhan), is fiery and impulsive. Their dynamic reminded me of so many sibling relationships, love underneath, but often expressed by constant bickering.

Then, out of the blue, everything spirals into chaos. A tribal woman named Jhumpa (Mia Maelzer) is screaming that her baby has been taken. Just like that, in a blink.

At first, the brothers do what most of us would probably do: they look around, try to understand what’s happening, and offer help. With every step forward, it becomes painfully obvious that they’re tangled in something far beyond their grasp. They try to help, but help isn’t always wanted. And sometimes, help is mistaken for harm.

The terrifying twist? The brothers are soon viewed not as witnesses but as suspects.

What follows next is not a race to find the kidnapper, but a painfully slow unraveling of assumptions, biases, and power dynamics. I found myself sinking into discomfort, not because the plot was intense (though it was), but because it all felt too possible. Too real.

Jhumpa’s character broke me. A mother, ignored by the system, spoken over, and doubted at every turn. Watching her pain, I couldn’t help but think, what if this were someone I knew? 

The Performances: Too Real to Feel Like Acting

Abhishek Banerjee, known for his performance in Stree, gives one of his most restrained performances in recent times.  He is such a fine actor that he never overdoes it. Gautam’s confusion, his guilt, his deep desire to do the right thing, but not knowing what that is, it’s all there, just beneath the surface.

Shubham Vardhan as Raman brings the heat and heart. His frustration felt like mine. Why aren’t people listening? Why is everyone so ready to point fingers?

But the film truly belongs to Mia Maelzer. She barely says much, but every time she’s on screen, you feel a lump in your throat. Her eyes, her body language carry the weight of a thousand stories that never make headlines. There’s a scene where she just sits, silent, holding onto a tiny piece of cloth that belonged to her baby, and that one really made me helpless.

Direction, Tone, and the Power of Silence

Karan Tejpal, in his debut, does something remarkable: he trusts the audience. There’s no over-explaining, no dramatic music telling you when to feel sad or scared. He lets the story unfold naturally. And that’s exactly why it hits so hard.

The setting is rural, dusty, chaotic, and yet strangely still like it was a character in itself. Ishaan Ghosh’s cinematography keeps it raw in the best possible way. It doesn’t try to impress or distract; instead, it brings you into the film’s unsettling reality. And the silence is used with such purpose that at times I found myself holding my breath, literally waiting for something to break.

Final Thoughts: Why This One is a Must-Watch

If you’re looking for a feel-good movie, this isn’t it. Stolen doesn’t offer comfort or easy answers. Instead, it holds up a mirror to harsh realities, challenging us to face uncomfortable truths about privilege, silence, and society’s overlooked truths.

As the film drew to an end, I sat in complete silence. There is no urge to check my phone or rush to skip the end credits. Just that heavy, lingering silence that only the most honest stories leave behind.

So, if you decide to watch it, watch it wholeheartedly. And when it’s over, don’t forget Jhumpa. Don’t forget that dusty railway station. Don’t forget what was stolen, not just a child, but something deeper, something far harder to reclaim.

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