Movie: Vash: Level 2
Director: Krishnadev Yagnik
Cast: Janki Bodiwala, Hitu Kanodia, Hiten Kumar, Monal Gajjar, Vishwa Rawal, Hency Bapat, Chetan Daiya, Prem Gadhavi
Language: Gujarati
Run Time: 1hr 43mins
Theatrical Release Date: 27 August 2025
If you thought Indian cinema couldn’t go darker, Vash Level 2 proves otherwise. Directed and written by Krishnadev Yagnik, this sequel to the 2023 hit Vash doesn’t just revisit familiar territory—it escalates it. What begins as an ordinary regional family drama soon spirals into full-blown urban horror, drenched in dread, chaos, and psychological unease.
Set twelve years after the events of the first film, the story follows Atharva (Hitu Kanodia), who once again finds himself grappling with sinister forces tied to the dark art of Vashikaran. His daughter Aarya (Janki Bodiwala) becomes central to the unfolding nightmare as an unseen power spreads terror across an unsuspecting city.
At first, the disturbances are subtle—odd behaviour, strange silences—but soon the city erupts into madness. Schoolgirls leap off rooftops under hypnotic influence. Children attack teachers. Police officers are ambushed. Buses crash. A petrol pump explodes. The city descends into lockdown, suffocated by fear.
At the centre of this devastation is Rajnath (Hiten Kumar), a master of mind control who thrives on chaos while searching for his elder brother Pratap. Unlike the lurking menace of the first film, here the villain relishes his power openly, revelling in destruction with terrifying ease. Though her screen time is limited, Janki Bodiwala’s (Aarya) performance anchors the film. Every appearance carries emotional weight, adding heart to the terror. Hitu Kanodia (Atharva) as the father struggling against an unstoppable force, he portrays helpless resilience convincingly. Hiten Kumar (Pratap/Rajnath) has a chilling presence, he embodies evil with unnerving calm and calculated menace. Monal Gajjar who plays the principal brings credibility to her supporting role,
grounding the chaos in real-world authority. While the supporting ensemble — Vishwa Rawal (Vidya), Hency Bapat, Chetan Daiya, and Prem Gadhavi — contribute to the film’s eerie authenticity.
Krishnadev Yagnik’s direction is bold, refusing to dilute horror for comfort. The narrative is relentless, feeding dread in steady doses until it bursts into shocking violence. Cinematographers Prashant Gohel and Haresh S Bhanushali craft an ominous visual texture—shadows stretch longer, frames feel claustrophobic, and the city itself becomes a character under siege.
Shivam Bhatt’s editing ensures taut pacing, with little room to breathe between escalating horrors. Andrew Samuel’s score alternates between eerie silences and explosive crescendos, heightening the psychological strain.
What separates Vash Level 2 from typical horror is its psychological undercurrent. It’s not just about jump scares; it’s about manipulation, control, and the fragility of human free will. The film repeatedly makes you ask, “Why is this happening?” — and as the story unfolds, the answers are as chilling as the questions themselves.
It also weaves in a haunting moral undertone: trust is dangerous, never accept food from strangers. If one goes back to the first part, all hell breaks only after Aarya consumes food from an unknown person. The folklore of Vashikaran is repackaged here as a modern, terrifying allegory of blind obedience and societal collapse.
The climax, while intense, stumbles in clarity. Its ambiguity may unsettle some viewers in unintended ways, leaving them more confused than haunted. Yet this open-endedness can also be read as deliberate—a refusal to give audiences closure, ensuring the fear lingers beyond the theatre.
Vash Level 2 is not “fun scary.” It’s disturbing scary — the kind of horror that seeps under your skin and makes you uncomfortable long after the credits roll. With standout performances, chilling direction, and unflinching violence, it marks a bold step for Gujarati and Indian horror cinema.
A must-watch, preferably in Gujarati, for those who can stomach horror that doesn’t just entertain, but scars.
