Toaster Netflix Review: Rajkummar Rao’s Dark Comedy Has Sparks But Runs Out of Bread
There is a certain kind of film that announces itself with such a ridiculously specific premise that you are either completely sold in the first thirty seconds or you quietly prepare for disappointment. Toaster, now streaming on Netflix, is exactly that kind of film. A man. A wedding. A five-thousand-rupee appliance. And somehow, a dead body. On paper, this should have been one of the more delightfully unhinged watches of the year. On screen, it mostly is, until it isn’t.
Directed by Vivek Daschaudhary and written by Parveez Shaikh, Akshat Ghildial, and Anagh Mukerjee, Toaster marks the maiden production venture of Rajkummar Rao and his wife Patralekhaa under their newly launched banner, Kampa Film. That context matters. This is not just another Netflix commission. It is a personal project, a bet placed on a very specific brand of absurdist Bollywood comedy, the kind that trusts its audience to find murder genuinely funny if the timing is right.
The story follows Ramakant, played by Rajkummar Rao, a legendary miser who instinctively gravitates toward anything free or discounted. He is the sort of man who will bring a doggie bag to a feast or argue with a customer service executive over a refund of six rupees. Honestly, there is something almost meditative about his commitment to cheapness. Ramakant lives with his wife Shilpa, played by Sanya Malhotra, in a Borivali residential colony populated almost entirely by senior citizens. The couple’s dynamic is the film’s warmest thread, and for a while, it holds everything together rather beautifully.
The chaos, of course, begins with the toaster. When a wedding in the colony is called off, Ramakant becomes fixated on retrieving the expensive appliance he gifted, only to discover it has already moved on and now carries a dirty secret belonging to a powerful politician. The toaster passes through hands, draws in a stoned young man named Glen played by Abhishek Banerjee, a morally flexible police inspector, and a silver-haired neighbour whose mysteries run deeper than her appearance suggests. What follows is, for the first half at least, genuinely funny in the way only Indian dark comedy can be when it is firing on all cylinders, ridiculous, rooted, and somehow oddly sympathetic.
Truth is, the first act of Toaster is its best argument for its own existence. Director Daschaudhary keeps the absurdity grounded enough that the stakes feel real even when the situations are clearly not. He relies on a suspension of disbelief, a comfort with anything-goes humour, and well-rounded characters to deliver the laughs. There is a sensibility here where bland-looking apartments are vice dens and outwardly respectable appearances guarantee nothing. It is the Mumbai that feels lived in, the kind where everyone is hiding something and a toaster really could end up at the centre of a political scandal.
Rajkummar Rao, as expected, is doing the heavy lifting. He has a proven talent for playing characters who dodge life’s curveballs in clumsy, self-righteous ways. Right from the start, Ramakant is annoying, familiar, and endearing all at once, compensating for his penny-pinching with wide smiles and a salesman’s charm. It is a performance that operates in multiple registers simultaneously, and Rao makes it look effortless even when the screenplay is not giving him much to work with.
Sanya Malhotra is reliably good but underused. The spunky Malhotra adds much-needed support to Rajkummar’s character, though one would have wanted to see more of her. Her Shilpa has a whole inner life that the film keeps hinting at and then abandoning. The character redeems herself in unexpected ways in the second half, but by that point, you are already feeling the stretch.
Because here is the catch. The second half loses its grip. The crisp premise is overstretched, though the buffoonery does remain consistent throughout. There is a difference between a comedy that earns its length and one that simply keeps going because it has not figured out how to stop. Toaster, somewhere around the ninety-minute mark, starts to feel like the latter. The gags, which were sharp and situational early on, begin to repeat their own rhythms. The dark thriller elements arrive with less tension than you would hope for, and the political satire, which genuinely had potential, never quite gets the room it deserves.
The surprise element of the ensemble is Archana Puran Singh, who proves she is much more than a show judge paid to laugh. Her approach to the role is bound to shock many as she defies expectations in unexpected ways. It is a genuinely committed performance and probably the film’s boldest casting choice. Farah Khan shows up in a cameo that is brief, memorable, and exactly the kind of comic punctuation the film needed more of throughout. Pratik Gandhi and Patralekhaa herself also appear in surprise roles, adding to the film’s air of unpredictability.
And just like that, you find yourself at the end of Toaster feeling pleasantly warm but not quite satisfied. It is the cinematic equivalent of a decent breakfast you had because the kitchen had limited ingredients. Enjoyable in the moment, forgettable by afternoon. What saves it from being a disappointment is the sheer specificity of its world and the fact that Rajkummar Rao, even on a slightly off day, is incapable of being boring.
Patralekhaa said of the venture: “Toaster immediately stood out because it finds humour in the most unexpected places, and the moment we read it, we knew it was a story we wanted to bring to life.” That instinct was correct. The execution, unfortunately, is about half a setting too high. But for a debut production from Kampa Film, there is enough here to be genuinely excited about what comes next.
Toaster is streaming now on Netflix. Worth a watch for Rao’s performance alone. Just manage your expectations for the second half, and you will probably enjoy the ride.
Stay updated with the latest in fashion, lifestyle, and celebrity stories—straight from the world of Debonair. Follow us on Instagram, X (Twitter), Facebook, Youtube, and Linkedin for daily style and culture drops.
Zayn blends critical thinking with genuine fandom. Whether it’s decoding OTT series arcs or rating the latest Bollywood blockbuster, he writes with clarity, pop fluency, and a dash of irreverence.
