As of writing this review, it’s been almost a week since my grandmother passed away. Having witnessed how each person in my extended family attempts to traverse their own very personal paths of grief, my rendezvous with the newest Amazon Original series “Andhera” (Eng.: “Darkness”) couldn’t have come at a better time—not just as a vessel for distraction till I could process my own emotions properly, but also one that eventually ended up being a piece of visual storytelling I’d need the most.

Created by Gaurav Desai, the series stars Prajakta Koli (“Neeyat;” Eng.: “Motive,” 2023), Karanvir Malhotra (Amazon Original series “The Forgotten Army,” 2020), Priya Bapat (“Visfot,” 2020), Vatsal Sheth (“Malang;” Eng.: “Wanderer,” 2020), and Surveen Chawla (Netflix series “The Mandala Murders,” 2025-present) in primary roles. 

Across the narrative, a set of apparent suicides throws the newly transferred Inspector Kalpana Kadam (Bapat) into a sinister web involving three seemingly disparate individuals—supernatural vlogger Rumi (Koli), mentally embattled medical student Jay (Malhotra), and eccentric shut-in Jude (Kavin Dave; “Dhoom Dhaam;” Eng.: “Fanfare,” 2025) that threatens to tear open old wounds and consume her whole.

The series itself may have been billed by Prime Video within the horror genre, which—while not entirely untrue—paints a somewhat incorrect picture for potential viewers. Sure, elements of horror do exist, with some clever scares sprinkled throughout its eight-episode run. Pigeonholing “Andhera” as a primarily horror-heavy show, however, severely limits the generous helping of science fiction and mystery that really helps the narrative tick.

Through the introduction of a wildcard supporting character in orphaned child Omar (Mohit Prajapati; “Shabaash Mithu,” 2022), Desai’s series unfortunately leans into territories reminiscent of the Duffer brothers’ global Netflix hit “Stranger Things” (2016-2025). While the parallels between the two shows often hew too close for comfort, the approach of “Andhera” to those plot threads work purely in service to its larger storytelling arc, unlike in the Netflix show, where the insistence of ’80s pop culture iconography upon the show’s narrative threatens to make it painfully unapproachable to generations that didn’t grow up with the franchises it nods to.

Before any assumptions are made prematurely, “Andhera” isn’t just a loose remake of sorts to the show; its narrative intent is a lot more ambitious. While Desai and co-writer Raaghav Dar do explore familiar themes of grief and loss, they expand upon them, and commit fully to diving down the rabbit hole—the singular traumas of Kalpana, Rumi, and Jay, sprouting from various emotional responses like guilt, social stigma, and anger, end up being strong foundations to its world-building.

The duo doesn’t put all their cards on display immediately, which risks alienating viewers who want to be hooked from the start. As each episode picks up pace, though, with every cold open visually playing on different genres—the second episode does a sci-fi mystery spin, while the third throws in vivid brushstrokes of classic physical comedy, thanks to Dave’s pitch-perfect comedic turn—things get a whole lot more interesting.

The most memorable part in the show, among its many strengths, is the arc of Dr. Ayesha, played with pitch-perfect conviction by Chawla, who owns every pixel of the frames she’s a part of. Her chemistry with Bapat brings in a much-needed breather to the tense proceedings and grounds viewers enough to prepare them for the next twist in the narrative.

Should viewers kickstart “Andhera” by performing a complete reset on the stilted expectations they might have by being (mis)informed on the genre by both the information provided on Prime Video and the implications of its marketing, the journey has the potential to surprise more often than not. 

And for those like me, who have recently been trying to make sense of their own grief, and why it hits us like a ton of bricks, “Andhera” may not have any answers. But it sure makes us feel seen and heard, what with its unabashed commitment to mental illness, and the very human condition of trying to find our place in a world where we’re haunted by the pitch-black demons of our own losses. It feels pretty strange that the release of the show coincided this closely with my tragedy, but it somehow ended up feeling like the show I didn’t know I needed the most.

“Andhera” might be an occasionally bumpy road, but there’s something about it that continues to make it one of the most fascinating works in Indian television. With its unapologetic portrayal of mental illness, the powerhouse performances of Surveen Chawla and Priya Bapat, and a consistently engaging story, Desai puts his best foot forward in bringing out a show that balances sincerity and self-awareness in its narrative’s metaphorical tightrope walk. It may not begin with extreme fanfare, but stick with it, and the road to the finish line gets a whole lot more satisfying. Very good.