Merry Christmas, released on January 12, 2024, in theaters and later streaming on Netflix from March 8, is a disappointing misstep from Sriram Raghavan—a director whose knack for taut, twisty thrillers feels lost in this plodding, overstretched mess. Billed as a neo-noir mystery set against a festive Bombay night, this Hindi-Tamil bilingual starring Katrina Kaif and Vijay Sethupathi promises intrigue but delivers a screenplay so lackluster it drags a promising premise into a mire of boredom and missed opportunities. It’s a film that tries to coast on mood and star power, but its flimsy writing ensures it’s more yawn-inducing than captivating.

The plot hinges on Albert (Vijay Sethupathi), a brooding loner, and Maria (Katrina Kaif), a secretive single mom, who meet on Christmas Eve in 1980s Bombay. A chance encounter—spiced with dinner, a movie, and a dead body—spirals into a supposed game of deception. Adapted from Frédéric Dard’s Le Monte-charge, it’s a setup that screams potential, but the screenplay, credited to Raghavan, Arijit Biswas, Pooja Ladha Surti, and Anukriti Pandey, fumbles it spectacularly. What should’ve been a tight 90-minute cat-and-mouse chase balloons into a 144-minute slog, padded with aimless detours and a pace so glacial it feels like the film’s stuck in holiday traffic.

Vijay Sethupathi does his best as Albert, bringing a weary charm that’s the film’s only consistent bright spot. His understated melancholy carries scenes the script can’t, though even he can’t salvage the clunky dialogue or vague motivations. Katrina Kaif’s Maria is a mixed bag—she’s watchable, hinting at layers of guile and grief, but the screenplay gives her little to work with beyond looking enigmatic. Their chemistry flickers but never catches fire, smothered by a story that’s too busy navel-gazing to let them shine. The supporting players—Sanjay Kapoor, Vinay Pathak—pop in and out, but they’re footnotes in a narrative that forgets to give them purpose.

The screenplay’s sins are legion. It starts strong, dripping with retro Bombay vibes—Regal Cinema, neon signs, Pritam’s moody tunes—but quickly loses steam. The first half meanders through repetitive beats (another drink, another walk), while the second half drowns in a convoluted climax that thinks it’s clever but feels like a chore. Twists arrive too late and land too soft, dulled by a script that prioritizes atmosphere over coherence. Pinocchio metaphors and caged-bird symbolism are strewn about like breadcrumbs, but they lead nowhere meaningful. It’s as if the writers had a mood board and forgot the plot, leaving a half-baked tale that’s neither thrilling nor poignant.

Madhu Neelakandan’s cinematography tries to compensate, painting a pretty 80s postcard, and Daniel B. George’s score adds some tension, but it’s lipstick on a pig. The editing is lethargic, letting scenes linger past their welcome, and the bilingual gimmick—shot in Hindi and Tamil with minor cast swaps—feels like a pointless flex. Even the music, with a nostalgic “Raat Akeli Thi,” can’t mask the emptiness of a story that’s all style, no substance.

Merry Christmas is a letdown—a thriller that forgets to thrill, sunk by a screenplay so lackluster it squanders its stars and setting. Raghavan’s past gems (Andhadhun, Badlapur) set a high bar, but this feels like a rough draft he forgot to polish. I’d give it a tepid 2.5 out of 5 stars—saved from total ruin by Sethupathi’s quiet grit and a few aesthetic flourishes, but doomed by writing that’s as flat as day-old champagne. It’s not unwatchable, just underwhelming—a festive misfire that leaves you wishing for a tighter, sharper gift under the tree.