‘Gondhal’ review: An Indian wedding party turns sour in polished Marathi-language debut

Dir/scr: Santosh Davakhar. India. 2025. 116mins

A joyful wedding party turns sinister in Gondhal, which unfolds on a single night that brings an entire village together in celebration only to be undone by lingering resentments, delicate egos and romantic jealousy. Santosh Davakhar makes his feature debut in competition at Goa with a richly-photographed Marathi-language crowdpleaser that luxuriates in culture and ceremony every bit as much as it delights in its heightened thriller elements. Polished and expertly paced, the feature grabs viewers by the throat from minute one and signals the arrival of a sophisticated new voice in Indian cinema.

Signals the arrival of a sophisticated new voice in Indian cinema

The majority of Davakhar’s output to date has been short films (including 2017’s Adnyat and 2020 pandemic drama Antar-19) that have made modest waves on festival circuit, and that should prime Gondhal for onward festival play. Though the film seems to have flown somewhat under the radar at home since its mid-November release, an international theatrical run could be on the cards for niche distributors that have previously found audiences for non-Bollywood song and dance spectaculars from India. Gondhal’s technical finesse and musicality certainly make it a rich cinematic experience.

The film begins with a graceful, nearly 30-minute opening sequence that sets the tone. Cinematographer Amaledu Chaudary’s (Shiddat) tracking shot begins with Maharashtra village elder and matchmaker Bhivada (Kishor Kadam, Anurag Kashyap’s Black Friday) walking a dirt road with a couple of friends and his grandson Vishnu (Dhruv Thoke). They are making their way to the town centre for the evening’s celebratory gondhal, a performance of mythological stories told through dance and music, designed to chase away negative energy and pave the way to a happy marriage.

The newlyweds are Andya (Yogesh Sohoni), the son of the town second wealthiest man and widely thought to be a bit simple, and the beautiful Suman (relative newcomer Ishita Deshmukh), generally considered way out of Andya’s league. Of course, Suman has a second suitor, the jealous and literally moustache-twirling Sarjerao (Nishad Bhoir), the son of the corrupt village chief, known as the ‘patil’ (Suresh Vishwakarma), who refused to pay her dowry. Suman’s third suitor is gondhali performer Saheba (Anju Prabhu), the inappropriate man she truly loves and is now permanently separated from. As the gondhal carries on, the soon-to-be unhappily married Suman tries to plot a course out of the village.

Davakhar, who also wrote the script, uses the archetypes of romantic melodrama as a springboard for an admittedly straightforward story about faith, duty, secrets and lies, and the darker impulses simmering just beneath the surface even during our most sacred moments. The establishing opener is a masterclass in efficiency, laying the groundwork for the main players and how they relate to each other, pitched so precisely it’s obvious there’s a powder keg in the town just waiting for a spark to ignite it.

Bhivada and the patil clearly have a history, though it’s never detailed – it doesn’t need to be. Suman knows she has some degree of power over the men surrounding her, even if she has none within her own family. Sarjerao is a nepo baby who’s happy to exploit his privilege, but deep-down fears he’s an imposter. Ultimately, they all impact each other in violent ways.

As much fun as Davakhar has with what are essentially stock characters, it’s his unwavering focus on Maharashtrian culture and commitment to using its motifs and iconography to tell the story that gives Gondhal its singular vision – the result of two years of research. In the foreground is the increasing tension hovering over the wedding party and Suman’s clumsy machinations, but in the background are the legends and tales of Khanderaya and other gods as told by the gondhali players, bathed in warm red and orange light and inky, deep darkness.

Though the narrative has its share of loose ends (one of which is disturbing for who it involves), Gondhal is immersive and enlightening, but also gleefully pulpy, and a breath of fresh air for Marathi cinema.