దక్ష – ది డెడ్‌లీ కాన్స్పిరసీ

About the name here - it should be: Daksha: The Deadly Conspiracy (2025), Telugu supernatural thriller, 102 min | Dir. Vamsee Krishna Malla Vamsee Krishna Malla sets out to crossbreed a police procedural with a pharma-phobic ghost story, and for the first 20 minutes the hybrid feels functional: Lakshmi Manchu’s no-nonsense cop stalks through dimly lit morgues while Achu Rajamani’s score drops the obligatory violin shrieks. Yet once the central conspiracy—corporate capsules laced with occult side-effects—is spelt out in block letters, every scene begins to feel like an elongated trailer for a twist you can phone in from the lobby. The film mistakes blue gels and smoke machines for atmosphere, and the supposedly “hair-raising” set pieces arrive with the punctuality of a delayed bus, giving you enough time to second-guess every reveal. Manchu commits to the role—blood-shot eyes, perfect cop-strut, third-act tears—but the script gives her nowhere to go except from “suspicious” to “very suspicious,” punctuated by the odd fist-fight that feels choreographed in slow motion. Mohan Babu’s much-hyped cameo amounts to three exposition-heavy scenes and one moralistic monologue delivered in the same baritone he’s used since the ’90s. Samuthirakani, reliably jittery, is stranded as a whistle-blower whose only function is to dump back-story into the heroine’s lap. The supporting cast of scheming lab techs and jump-scare spirits try their best, yet the dialogue keeps flattening them into plot furniture: “The trial data is… inhuman!” gasps one doctor, pretty much summing up the film’s idea of subtlety. Technically, Daksha is adequate: Gokul Barathi’s neon corridors look slick on a big screen, and the 102-minute sprint ensures you won’t be bored for long stretches—only quietly underwhelmed. The social-message garnish (corruption kills, literally) is admirable but handled with the finesse of a PowerPoint slide, and the climactic twist is borrowed from a 2005 Hollywood B-reel most viewers will have half-forgotten. In a year when Telugu genre cinema is pushing boundaries—think Virupaksha or Mangalavaaram—this one settles for the safety of the median, landing squarely in “watch-it-on-OTT-while-folding-laundry” territory. One star for effort, another for Manchu’s conviction; the rest is prescription-strength placebo.