Euphoria Review: A Thoughtful Drama with Surface-Level Writing
Euphoria Review by Kausalya Rachavelpula
Euphoria is less a film about crime or law and more a reflection on accountability, how it is formed, ignored, and finally demanded. Instead of asking who committed the crime or how justice is served, the film repeatedly circles a quieter, more uncomfortable question: where did things go wrong?
The narrative imagines a world where systems function cleanly, laws are respected, authority is not compromised, and justice follows its intended path. This deliberate idealism removes the usual distractions of corruption or loopholes and forces attention onto personal responsibility. In that sense, the film presents a “what-if” scenario: if institutions do their job perfectly, the burden of failure shifts entirely onto individuals and families.
Rather than lingering on the crime itself, Euphoria attempts to trace its emotional aftershocks. The most striking choice the film makes is moving away from familiar perspectives and instead focusing on the family of the convicted. Through Bhumika Chawla’s character, the story examines a mother caught between moral integrity and unconditional love. Her conflict is not about defending her son, but about accepting that he is beyond denial. The film positions her as someone who must confront the painful realisation that goodness at home does not automatically translate into goodness in the world.
The idea of upbringing runs quietly beneath the surface, how early guidance, supervision, and moral clarity shape a child’s future. However, the film struggles to balance this theme. In trying to comment on generational parenting, it sometimes slips into overgeneralization, blurring the line between reflection and accusation. Several narrative threads are introduced but not fully resolved, leaving the film with unanswered questions that feel less intentional and more like missed opportunities. The writing occasionally relies on familiar rhetoric, softening the sharpness of the issues it wants to address. There were dialogues which were cliched and irrelevant.
Performance is where the film regains its footing. Bhumika Chawla anchors the story with restraint and emotional authority, embodying the cost of moral consistency. Sara Arjun, though briefly seen, functions as a catalyst rather than a presence, her role lingers beyond her screen time. Vignesh Gavireddy carries the most demanding arc, and he handles it with sincerity. His transition from adolescence to adulthood is not only physical but internal, marked by visible emotional erosion. While effective, this arc could have benefited from deeper exploration, particularly in depicting how he slowly disconnects from his own conscience.
The climax is where Euphoria finds strength, that too because of the three main performances by Vignesh, Sara and Bhumika. Stripping away ambiguity, it delivers a decisive moral conclusion, one that reinforces the belief that consequences are inevitable and redemption, though possible, is never painless. The final moments focus less on punishment and more on reclamation, presenting a mother’s attempt to reclaim not just her son, but the values she once believed she had instilled.
Euphoria Review: Euphoria stands as a film that is more interested in who we fail to become than in who commits the crime. Its ambition is evident, even when its execution falters, making it a thought-provoking reflection rather than a definitive statement.
Fridaywall rating: 2.25/3
