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 Saiyaara Review – Does This Hyped Romantic Drama Truly Deliver? Some movies arrive quietly, build an audience slowly, and surprise you later. And then there are films like Saiyaara  where the hype comes crashing in before you even press play. Ever since its theatrical release, Saiyaara has been trending on social media, with emotional reels, fan edits, and endless claims that it’s the “tearjerker of the year.” The hype got to me. Every scroll on my feed was someone sobbing over this film or declaring it the ultimate heartbreak saga of the year. So yes, I was intrigued. But I’ll be honest with you,  I didn’t sit down with a box of tissues, ready to cry. I went in because the hype was impossible to ignore, and I wanted to know if this film really was the emotional rollercoaster people were talking about. Now that Saiyaara has dropped on Netflix , I finally got the chance to see for myself. And here’s my verdict: it’s moving, it’s well-crafted, but it’s not without...

Ronth Movie Review: A Haunting Patrol Through One Long Night

Image Source- Times of India

Have you ever wondered what really goes on during a quiet night shift at a local police station? Not the dramatic stuff we usually see in cop movies, but the eerie stillness, the unspoken fears, the quiet weight of it all? That’s where Ronth comes in. I started watching it on a whim one night, no expectations, no hype, and by the end of it, I just sat there, still. It doesn’t scream for attention. It just slowly, surely, gets under your skin. And honestly, it stayed there.

Directed by Shahi Kabir (the man behind Joseph and Nayattu), Ronth is the kind of film that’s more about the silences than the noise. It’s set entirely during one night shift, and the simplicity of that setup is deceptive because what unfolds in that single night speaks volumes about trauma, loss, fatigue, and the slow breakdown of systems we take for granted. Missed it in theatres? You can still catch its quiet brilliance on JioHotstar.


Plot: One Night, Two Cops, and the Burdens They Carry

The story follows two very different cops on night duty in Kerala. Grade SI Yohannan (played by Dileesh Pothan) is someone who’s clearly seen it all. He’s tired, bitter, running on fumes. You can almost feel the years weighing on him with every word he says or doesn’t say. Alongside him is CPO Dinanath (Roshan Mathew), a young, idealistic constable still dealing with his own personal grief.

The two patrol the streets in their police jeep, responding to calls, some petty, some horrifying. At first, it feels like nothing major will happen. But slowly, the night pulls them into deeper, more personal territory. As they encounter a series of incidents ranging from domestic violence to suicide to a mysterious home intrusion, the film uses these moments not to shock, but to show how layered and morally grey each situation is. No heroes here. Just people. By the time morning comes, something in both men has changed. And I felt it too.

There’s a quiet rhythm to the way the night unfolds: routine paperwork, tense conversations, long silences between calls. One scene in particular, where they have to deal with a mentally unstable man causing a scene in a neighbourhood, really hits hard, not because of what happens, but because of how helpless everyone seems. These aren't big cinematic moments, but they leave a mark, showing how even the smallest encounters chip away at them.


Performances: Honest, Raw, and So Real You Forget They’re Acting

What really grounds Ronth is the way its actors never try too hard. There’s no forced emotion or drama, just people weighed down by feelings they can’t put into words.

Let’s start with Dileesh Pothan. Wow. His portrayal of SI Yohannan doesn’t rely on drama or big moments. It’s all in the eyes, the silences, the sighs. He plays a man who’s been numbed by years in the system but also someone who hasn’t completely given up. There’s a deeply human fragility in his performance that caught me off guard.

And then there’s Roshan Mathew. He brings such quiet intensity to Dinanath. His grief isn’t loud; it just simmers, coming through in small reactions, subtle hesitations. There’s a moment where he looks out of the jeep window after a difficult case, and you can see a thousand things going through his mind without him uttering a word. The chemistry between the two actors is incredible. There’s tension, unspoken respect, even moments of unexpected humour. Watching them together felt like you were eavesdropping on something very real.

Their performances don’t just carry the story; they are the story. It’s rare to see two leads this in sync without ever overplaying it.


Direction, Atmosphere & Sound: Stillness That Speaks Volumes

Shahi Kabir really knows how to build a mood without ever making it obvious. Ronth is quiet, eerily quiet at times, and that stillness becomes its own kind of tension. The hum of a police jeep, trees brushing past the window, and a distant radio - these tiny sounds fill the silence and somehow make the night feel heavier. It’s not about big moments, but how ordinary ones slowly chip away at you.

Manesh Madhavan’s cinematography matches that energy perfectly. Foggy roads, half-lit homes, dimly flickering streetlamps, everything feels soaked in melancholy. You’re not just watching these scenes, you’re feeling every moment of it. Even moments of movement feel suspended in time, as if the world is stuck in a long exhale.

The sound design is just as effective in its restraint. Anil Johnson’s score barely shows up, and when it does, it lingers in the background like a bad memory. Most of the time, silence does the work, amplifying the unease without pushing it. That quiet dread seeps into every frame, making you feel as uneasy as the characters.


Themes: The Quiet Cracks in the System

What hit me the hardest was how Ronth doesn’t try to preach, but still says so much. You see how broken the system is, how paperwork and protocol often clash with empathy and reality. There’s a moment when Dinanath questions why they didn’t help someone more, and Yohannan just shrugs, not because he doesn’t care, but because he’s seen too much to believe anything can change.

The film also explores personal grief and how it seeps into professional life. Both men are carrying something heavy, and the job doesn’t let them put it down. You also get the sense that post-Christmas Kerala, with all its leftover lights and plastic Santas, is part of the illusion that things are fine when they’re really not.

Even the stillness in certain scenes feels deliberate, like the silence is doing all the talking. It lingers with you, quietly demanding that you pay attention to what’s left unsaid.


Final Thoughts: Let It Sink In

Ronth isn’t the kind of film that wraps everything up in a bow or leaves you with a powerful speech. It just... lets you feel. It’s slow, it’s moody, and at times, frustrating, but in a way that feels intentional. It wants you to sit with the discomfort. To think. And maybe to appreciate how much pressure and emotional labour go into jobs we take for granted.

This one’s for those who don’t mind a slow burn. If you’ve ever been drawn to films that stay with you not because they shocked you, but because they showed you something quietly devastating, Ronth is worth your time.


👀 Let’s Stay Connected!

If you liked this review and want more grounded film thoughts, underrated thriller picks, or just some honest recommendations—come hang out on Instagram: @bingewatch_perspective  I post quick recaps, hot takes, and offbeat gems you might’ve missed. Let’s talk stories that feel.

If you’re drawn to slow-burn narratives that focus more on emotion, silence, and unsettling truths, you might also like Mandala Murders. It’s a psychological crime drama that remains subtle yet hits deep. Read the full review here.

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