★★★★½ (4.5/5) Watch it if you liked: Marriage Story (but darker), The Son , or A Separation . Avoid if: You are sensitive to depictions of psychological manipulation or domestic tension. Ranjish is currently streaming exclusively on Hunters Original . Viewer discretion is advised.
If you watch it, do so with company. And be prepared to sit in silence when the credits roll.
In a landscape saturated with formulaic crime dramas, Ranjish (2023) arrives not as a whisper, but as a wound. Produced under the acclaimed Hunters Original banner—known for pushing the boundaries of raw, unflinching storytelling—this short film is a masterclass in atmospheric tension and tragic inevitability. It doesn't just tell a story; it forces you to sit with the discomfort of a soul slowly unraveling. The Premise: When Silence Becomes a Weapon At its core, Ranjish (translated as rancor or bitterness ) explores the quiet apocalypse of a broken marriage. Unlike typical domestic thrillers that rely on loud confrontations, the film opens on a scene of terrifying stillness. The protagonist, Ayaan (a career-defining performance by Kabir Mehta ), returns home to find his wife, Zara (the riveting Anushka Sen ), seated at a dimly lit dinner table. The food is cold. The air is colder. Ranjish -2023- Hunters Original
On social media, the hashtag #RanjishHunters trended for two weeks, with viewers sharing personal stories triggered by the film’s themes. Hunters Original released a trigger warning and a mental health resource guide alongside the film—a first for the production house. Ranjish (2023) is not entertainment. It is an experience—one that will leave you hollowed out and thoughtful. It cements Hunters Original’s position as a home for bold, uncomfortable art that refuses to look away from the darkest corners of human connection.
The cinematography by is particularly noteworthy. One sequence, where Ayaan watches Zara sleep, is shot entirely from a fixed angle for over two minutes. Nothing happens—no dialogue, no movement—yet the tension is unbearable. You feel the ranjish curdling in his chest. The Turning Point: A Crime of the Heart Without revealing spoilers, the film’s third act pivots into territory that is both shocking and tragically logical. When Zara finally decides to leave, Ayaan’s response is not violent in the physical sense, but psychological. He weaponizes their history—her insecurities, her past traumas, her love for him—as a cage. The film’s most devastating line comes when he whispers, “You will carry me with you. Even after you’re gone. That’s not love. That’s just fact.” ★★★★½ (4
What follows is not a dialogue but an autopsy of a relationship. Through fragmented flashbacks and heavy silences, we learn that Zara has discovered Ayaan’s secret—not an affair, but something far more corrosive: a pattern of emotional erasure, gaslighting, and quiet domination. The film’s title, Ranjish , hangs over every frame like a shroud. Hunters Original has built a reputation for stripping away the gloss from crime and psychological drama. With Ranjish , they go a step further. The crime here is not a murder or a heist—it’s the slow assassination of another person’s spirit. The film’s visual language reflects this: claustrophobic close-ups, a desaturated color palette leaning toward muddy browns and deep blues, and sound design that amplifies the creak of a floorboard or the drip of a leaky faucet into instruments of dread.
Anushka Sen, however, is the film’s quiet earthquake. With minimal dialogue, she conveys decades of exhaustion, hope, and finally, a cold, deliberate clarity. Her final shot—a single tear rolling down her cheek as she smiles—is already being called one of the most memorable closing images of 2023 indie cinema. Since its release on the Hunters Original platform in late 2023, Ranjish has sparked heated debate. Some critics have called it “relentlessly bleak” and “difficult to watch.” Others have hailed it as a necessary reckoning with emotional abuse—a topic often sanitized or romanticized in mainstream media. Viewer discretion is advised
It is here that Ranjish transcends the typical short film. It asks a harrowing question: What if the worst prison is not one built of bars, but of memories? Kabir Mehta’s Ayaan is not a monster in the conventional sense. He is charming, articulate, and at times, painfully vulnerable. That is what makes him terrifying. Mehta plays him as a man who believes his own victimhood—a performance that has drawn comparisons to Javier Bardem in No Country for Old Men but grounded in middle-class reality.