Indian cinema has often thrived on spectacle — its song, dance, colour, and melodrama drawing crowds to theatres across generations. Yet alongside this grandeur lies a subtler, quieter tradition: films that resist noise and turn instead to allegory, parable, and fable to reflect society’s deeper truths. Jugnuma: The Fable, Raam Reddy’s latest feature starring Manoj Bajpayee, stands firmly in this lineage, offering a meditative cinematic experience.
A deceptively simple story
At the heart of Jugnuma is Dev, a landowner living in the Himalayan foothills. Surrounded by apple orchards and villagers wary of encroaching wildfires, Dev retreats into his own world. His wife, Nandini, watches helplessly as his detachment grows.
The film introduces characters not only through their actions but also through the murmurs of myth. Villagers speak of wandering horsemen; lullabies and folktales weave their way into the narrative, creating a layered texture that feels both real and surreal.
Bajpayee in a restrained performance
Manoj Bajpayee, one of Indian cinema’s most versatile actors, steps into the role of Dev with an understated intensity. His portrayal of a man grappling with despair yet driven by a fragile dream — to build wings that might lift him away from his pain — carries much of the film’s emotional weight.
Rather than turning to melodrama, Bajpayee channels stillness. His silences, pauses, and hesitant gestures become more eloquent than any long speech. Nandini, played with quiet strength, anchors the narrative, embodying resilience against her husband’s growing withdrawal.
Allegory at work
Raam Reddy is no stranger to this kind of cinema. His earlier Thithi had already established his ability to use humour and allegory to reflect on mortality and tradition. With Jugnuma, he goes further, leaning into fable-like storytelling.
The invention of wings becomes a metaphor for longing — not just Dev’s personal desire for escape, but also the human urge to transcend despair. The wildfires are both literal and symbolic, creeping ever closer to remind us of ecological fragility. The horsemen and whispered tales evoke the spectral presence of history, myth, and memory within everyday life.
Visual and soundscape
Cinematography plays a crucial role in the film’s rhythm. Expansive shots of orchards and mountains are juxtaposed with close-ups of fragile wings being stitched together. The camera lingers, allowing the audience to sink into the landscape’s stillness.
The sound design avoids intrusive music. Instead, it layers folktales, lullabies, and ambient noises into a subdued chorus, reminding viewers of oral traditions that quietly shape identity.
A different path for Indian cinema
While mainstream Indian cinema continues to flourish with grand narratives and box office spectacle, films like Jugnuma represent a parallel current. They appeal to audiences willing to sit with ambiguity and silence, to explore cinema as meditation rather than distraction.
Reddy’s work shows that Indian cinema need not always compete with spectacle but can embrace its own reflective traditions. Jugnuma will likely find resonance at international film festivals, where audiences are attuned to allegory, but it also speaks to an Indian audience that recognises the fable as part of its cultural DNA.
Conclusion
Jugnuma: The Fable emerges as a film that values silence over sound, allegory over spectacle, and myth over mere realism. By placing Manoj Bajpayee’s restrained performance at its centre and weaving together folktales, myth, and personal despair, Raam Reddy has crafted a cinematic meditation that stands apart from the mainstream. It reminds us that Indian cinema’s richness lies not just in its spectacle, but also in its quiet, enduring fables.