Sister Midnight Movie Review : Amid the Chaos of a Surreal, Plotless Experiment, Radhika Apte Stands Tall

By Abhishek Srivastava

Story: Uma, a headstrong small-town woman, moves to Mumbai after an arranged marriage but feels out of place. Restless and trapped, she undergoes a wild transformation that breaks society’s rules.

Review: ‘Sister Midnight’ is one of those films that’s hard to describe without resorting to words like “bizarre,” “surreal,” or simply “what did I just watch?” From the very first frame, it throws you into a world that’s chaotic, wild, and often confounding. On the surface, it’s about a newlywed woman battling loneliness and frustration—but any attempt to explain the plot beyond that feels futile. This Radhika Apte-led British production is less interested in telling a story and more in creating an experience—one that’s metaphor-heavy and deliberately unsettling.

There are moments in the film that really grab you—strange little scenes that linger in the mind—but trying to piece them together into a coherent whole is a losing game. It’s clearly an experimental film, packed with long, static shots and an almost maddening sense of stillness that dares you to stay with it. If you’re someone who enjoys decoding metaphor and swimming through ambiguity, there’s something here for you. If you’re after a narrative that makes sense from start to finish, you might struggle.

The story follows Uma (Radhika Apte), a new bride who moves into her husband Gopal’s (Ashok Pathak) cramped home in a slum. She’s temperamental, clueless about running a household, loves smoking, and speaks to her husband mostly in commands. Her only real support is a kind neighbour. Eventually, boredom pushes her into taking a cleaning job, which is when things start to spiral. She kills a goat and dumps it in a pile of trash. Then, it’s birds. Later, during an awkward attempt at intimacy, her husband dies—and she casually keeps the corpse in the house. The events become increasingly surreal: a visit to a monastery, a train journey, and finally, a strange chase scene involving goats. It’s dreamlike, absurd, and tough to pin down.

The one thing that keeps it all from collapsing is Radhika Apte. She’s in practically every frame and is terrific—layered, unpredictable, and completely convincing as a woman gradually losing her grip. Her performance gives the film a strange sort of grounding. Ashok Pathak plays her husband with a quiet, believable helplessness and proves once again that he’s an actor to watch. Chhaya Kadam, in a brief role as the neighbour, is understated and effective.

Tonally, the film sits somewhere between black comedy and fever dream. There’s a certain reckless energy in how it moves—from one weird scene to the next—that keeps you watching, even if you’re not always sure why. The cinematography is striking and helps build a mood that’s equal parts grimy and hypnotic. But there’s no getting around the fact that much of it is repetitive and, at times, exhausting. The use of foreign music tracks might come across as inventive, but their relevance is often hard to figure out. Ditto for a scene from ‘The Seven Samurai’ playing on TV at a chai shop—interesting, yes, but what’s the point?

At its core, ‘Sister Midnight’ doesn’t follow a traditional plot structure. It thrives on moments, mood, and metaphor. If you like your cinema strange and symbolic, it has something to offer. But if you’re looking for a clear beginning, middle, and end, this one might just leave you bewildered. — ToI