Introduction
Sony LIV’s Kankhajura, adapted from the acclaimed Israeli series Magpie (2019), comes with high expectations. Directed by Chandan Arora, the show attempts to combine psychological thriller with family drama, centered on two estranged brothers. But despite a powerhouse performance from Roshan Mathew, the series falls short in tone, execution, and emotional depth.
The title Kankhajura — Hindi for centipede — is as intriguing as it is creepy. It evokes something that’s meant to be unsettling, invasive, and dangerous. And so is the protagonist Ashu (Roshan Mathew), a soft-spoken man with a stutter and a hidden manipulative streak. After serving a 14-year jail sentence, Ashu returns home with a need for familial acceptance, especially from his alpha-male brother Max (Mohit Raina).
While the setup is ripe with dramatic and psychological potential, the narrative never truly capitalizes on the darkness or moral ambiguity it hints at. Instead, the storytelling remains flat, missing the opportunity to fully flesh out Ashu’s internal conflict or his morally gray methods.
Ashu’s skill — “getting inside people’s heads” — should have made for an engrossing character study. Instead, Kankhajura spends more time explaining than showing. There’s a lack of psychological tension or emotional layering that you’d expect from a tale about manipulation, abuse, and revenge. Characters around Ashu feel like cardboard cutouts — merely reacting to plot developments, not shaping them.
The show’s dual narrative — Ashu helping the police solve cases while trying to prove himself to Max — often feels disconnected, with no real payoff.
If Kankhajura works at all, it’s because of Roshan Mathew’s magnetic performance. He completely disappears into Ashu — physically frail, emotionally volatile, and linguistically sharp. His control over his expressions, use of local dialect, and shifting persona add complexity that the script lacks.
Roshan’s performance is a slow-burning puzzle, and he keeps the audience engaged even when the narrative stumbles. Mohit Raina does well as Max — the older brother driven by pride and power — while Sarah Jane Dias adds intrigue as Max’s morally conflicted wife. But none are given enough screen time or material to evolve beyond plot devices.
With Rajeev Ravi behind the camera, one would expect striking visuals and a gritty atmosphere. Instead, the cinematography feels standard, even uninspired. There are no symbolic motifs, visual metaphors, or tonal shifts that could have elevated the psychological drama.
Similarly, Parikshhit Jha’s editing does little to tighten or enhance the pacing. Key transitions feel abrupt, and emotional beats often go undercooked. The lack of immersive world-building makes the show feel more like a summary than a fully realized world.
Adaptations succeed when they localize the source material, embedding it in the cultural and emotional context of its audience. Sadly, Kankhajura fails to do this. The show plays like a foreign story dressed in Indian clothing — often disconnected, rushed, and superficial.
There’s little subtext, no clever foreshadowing, and certainly no emotional resonance strong enough to make its themes about trauma, manipulation, or redemption stick. What could’ve been a biting character study ends up as a predictable crime drama with wasted potential.
Kankhajura may have a compelling protagonist and a gripping concept, but poor adaptation, underdeveloped characters, and flat direction drag it down. Roshan Mathew’s performance is the only real highlight — nuanced, layered, and deeply human. But a great actor can’t save a show that doesn’t know what to do with him.
Leave a Reply