From Mahal to Munjya, Stree 2 and Thamma, horror in Hindi cinema has shapeshifted from creaking mansions and echoing havelis to feminist witches, self-aware satire, social unease and psychological dread
Imagine this: it’s midnight, a crumbling haveli stands silent, curtains sway in the wind, and a woman in a white sari hums softly as her candle flickers. That was the classic era of fear, when Hindi horror was a symphony of mystery, melody, and darkness.
Now imagine its modern counterpart: a witch in a red sari who hunts only men, her victims leaving messages scrawled in blood: Don’t come tonight. This is the new face of Bollywood horror: where fear is braided with satire, story, and social commentary. From Mahal (1949) to Stree (2018) and Munjya (2024), this genre has mirrored the evolution of Indian cinema itself.
The Ramsay Brothers: The golden age of cheap thrills
The roots of Indian horror were laid in Mahal, starring Ashok Kumar and Madhubala, in 1949. Films like Madhumati (1958) and Woh Kaun Thi? (1964) fused romance with suspense, but it was in the 1970s and ’80s that the Ramsay Brothers gave horror its cult identity. Their low-budget hits — Purana Mandir (1984), Purani Haveli (1989), and Do Gaz Zameen Ke Neeche (1972) — turned spooks into memorable fares.
What made them iconic? A cocktail of fear, titillation, gothic mansions, and ingenious sound effects. Sasha Shyam Ramsay once revealed that her father took inspiration for Veerana’s witch’s hairstyle from a melted Eclairs, and created eerie sounds using a hot iron griddle. The Ramsays later brought terror to television too, with Zee Horror Show (1993–2001), a cult favourite that still echoes in nostalgia.
By the 1990s, the Ramsays faded, giving way to a sleeker, urban horror led by Ram Gopal Varma, Vikram Bhatt, and Ekta Kapoor. Films like Raat (1992), Raaz (2002), Bhoot (2003), 1920 (2008), and Ragini MMS (2011) reimagined the genre with metropolitan anxieties and high production values. The sequels may have faltered, but these filmmakers proved that the ghosts had moved out of havelis and into high-rises.
Tumbbad and Stree: When horror found its soul
Then came Bhool Bhulaiyaa (2007), a genre-bending hit that fused fear with farce. Priyadarshan’s psychological dramedy, powered by Vidya Balan’s haunting performance and Akshay Kumar’s comic timing, showed that laughter could coexist with dread. Later films like Go Goa Gone (2013), Pari (2018), and Bulbbul (2020) diversified the horror palette: zombie comedy, feminist fable, mythic fantasy.
Also read: Bhargav Saikia interview: ‘Ecology, feminism run parallel to each other in Bokshi’
2018 marked a turning point. Rahi Anil Barve’s Tumbbad revealed that true horror hides not in ghosts, but in human greed. As actor Sohum Shah said, it’s the kind of story our grandmothers once narrated, but retold now through a lens of myth and morality.
That same year, Amar Kaushik’s Stree redefined the genre again, a tale of a witch who hunts men, doubling as a satire on patriarchy. Its success birthed India’s first horror-comedy universe, with Bhediya, Munjya, Stree 2 and Thamma expanding the lore while keeping the laughs alive.
The rise of horror comedy: Laughter in the dark
Modern horror has also reclaimed the small town. Stree was set in Madhya Pradesh’s Chanderi, Munjya in the coastal Konkan, and Bhediya in the forests of Arunachal Pradesh. These are stories that grounded the supernatural in folk memory and local superstition.
This blend of fright and farce has become so ubiquitous that, as filmmaker Aditya Sarpotdar jokes, “Soon audiences might say, enough already — why is every film a horror comedy?” Yet actors like Sohum Shah insist the true horror wave is still ahead: “We’re still at the stage of fun horror. The real Conjuring-level cinema hasn’t begun yet.”
Also read: Stree 2: Amar Kaushik’s film dismantles patriarchy with a supernatural twist
Bollywood horror has shed its ghosts but not its anxieties. It now dwells in emotion, greed, humour, and social unease. From the Ramsay mansions of the 1980s to the haunted lanes of Stree and Munjya, the genre continues to evolve — and as Shah reminds us, “This is just the beginning. The new age of fear has only just begun.”
Indian horror films no longer hides behind jump scares or fog machines; it asks what it means to be afraid in a country of tradition and technology, faith and fakery, patriarchy and protest. The haunted house has moved inside the head. In today’s cinema, the ghost is often just a metaphor for what we refuse to confront: our own guilt, greed, or loneliness. And that may be Bollywood’s most unsettling evolution yet: that the scariest stories are no longer about the things that go bump in the night, but about the silences we carry within.
(This piece first appeared in The Federal Desh)
