‘Little Thomas’ movie review: Gulshan Devaiah-Rasika Dugal shine in Kaushal Oza’s delectable revival of innocence

The film unfolds with a rare, unhurried quality antithetical to the overstimulating boom that defines much of Hindi cinema today.

Published - October 21, 2026 10:01 am IST

A still from ‘Little Thomas’ | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement

Time feels stretched when boredom persists. That’s how a geeky kid, Murthy (Ninad Pandith), explains Einstein’s theory of relativity to his friends, Thomas (Hridansh Parekh) and Nigel (Hridyaansh Gokani), in Kaushal Oza’s Little Thomas. Murthy reasons that the same thirty minutes in class feel much longer than the same time spent watching cartoons on TV. Getting lost in a dreamy world of wonder surpasses boundaries of time and space. Much like the low-stakes, emotionally palpable, and endlessly charming appeal of Little Thomas, where a kid’s curiosity leads the proceedings with a gentle, breezy play of aesthetics. The film unfolds with a rare, unhurried quality antithetical to the overstimulating boom that defines much of Hindi cinema today. It slows down time with its allure, reigniting the spirit of the past without indulging much in the reverie of nostalgia.

The film’s frames are coated with innocence as Kaushal introduces the world with a stirring blend of animated reckoning rooted in everyday realism. We see this in the opening portions within the ageing walls of Miranda Bakery in Goa in the 1990s. Its jovial owner, Desmond (Gulshan Devaiah), wants to master the wedding cake, which gets trampled every time under the weight of the bride and groom figurine on top. It reflects the turbulent relationship he shares with his wife, Jessie (Rasika Dugal), a gifted piano player. The two struggle to make ends meet with the bakery slowly losing relevance in post-liberalised times. The threat of an American bakery as competition and Jessie losing her last two piano students to toys brought from Dubai subtextualise the changing times, with the littler ways of being taken over by giant means.

As his doting parents battle these existential worries, Thomas has his own issues, feeling sidelined while playing with friends. A chance encounter with another kid’s baby brother makes Thomas want a sibling of his own. He wonders: where do babies come from? The seven-year-old believes when Desmond tells him that they come from Malaysia, pointing to the tag on the shirt that Thomas wears. He soon learns it is a lie and seeks an answer from a priest, who explains to him about Adam, Eve, and the apple. Finally, their sweet neighbour, Mrs. Briganza, tells him that his baby brother will come if his parents stop fighting and lovingly kiss each other.

Gulshan Devaiah and Hridansh Parekh in ‘Little Thomas’ | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement

Kaushal fills up these sequences with a sense of awe, taking us along the innocent escapades of Thomas and friends. Through them, the feeling of being a child is revived. We remember the laid-back tangerine afternoons spent with lively quarrels and friendly banter. It was a refreshing change to see mischief in their bonds lead nowhere at a time when everything is tailor-made to appease a conflict. The filmmaking extends the playfulness with a magical blend. The sound of a hammer striking a chair smoothly becomes part of the background score in an early scene. Later, when Desmond and Jessie rhythmically brush their teeth, notes of violin are heard. The family’s cutesy ritual of brushing together becomes a visual motif, as it later establishes the serious cracks in Desmond and Jessie’s marriage. Cinematographer Dorian Lucarelli frames these portions with ease as Kaushal ably switches perspective from the mundanities of childhood to the edgy complexities of adult life. Thomas becomes the bridge between the two worlds without losing his sense of being. He operates with his feeble logic and assuring inquisitiveness.

Hridansh Parekh plays the character convincingly. His toothy smile, curly hair, and glistening eyes add to the pleasantries. Hridansh’s sparkling chemistry with the other two kids makes for a lively exploration as Kaushal doesn’t infantilise their concerns, treating the quirks with respectful appeal. Gulshan and Rasika share a striking screen presence too, smoothly handling the finer charms of the Goan dialect without caricaturing it.

The two are seamless in emotional scenes, leaving behind a strong feeling that underscores the thematic overlays of parenting in the third act. Kaushal doesn’t let the heaviness settle for long, as he puts the spotlight back on Thomas. The film takes shape of a mature relationship drama at times and becomes a slapstick fairytale on occasions, revering in the same wonderment as some early 2000s television shows featuring kids. Its existence in 2026 feels rebellious in itself, like the bakery which Desmond holds on to amidst the looming fear of takeover by larger forces. Little Thomas opens up a world of innocence that has been widely left shut to make way for deafening spectacle. The film shows, as Murthy claims in a scene, that time travel is possible. Not through Einstein’s equations but through the time-stretching magic of cinema.