Music conveys emotion, builds suspense, and can even mislead. From Fleabag’s seamless soundscapes to Bhool Bhulaiyaa’s chaotic cues, this essay explores the narrative power of music. As part of the Lightbulb Moments series, the author shares insights on how music elevates storytelling—and what happens when it defies audience expectations.
By Sonakshi Gupta
Music, a force in movies and television, often escapes critical scrutiny for its narrative power. Yet, when examined closely, it emerges as a storyteller in its own right—a subtle yet commanding narrator that can amplify, subvert, or even overwrite the visual and verbal elements of a narrative. For a long time, I never fully realized this power—despite growing up in the music-rich world of Bollywood, the Indian movie industry, where songs are deeply woven into the storytelling. I understood the role of music in everyday life through Bollywood movies, but until recently, I hadn’t given much thought to the narrative role of music on a theoretical level. My critical awakening to this notion came during a course on Gender and Affect.
During the course we learned to analyze female-centered TV shows like Fleabag, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, and Killing Eve through the lens of theoretical approaches at the intersection of affect theory and feminist studies. This course not only highlighted creative narrative strategies these series use to navigate postfeminist portrayals of women, but also inspired me to explore the narrative tools—beyond just writing—that shape the perception of the story as a whole. We focused on the props, staging, lighting, and of course, the role of music as a narrative agent. One way music functions narratively is through repetition. The repetition of the same background music in two vastly different scenes offers a link between them, and changes how the scene would be viewed had the music not been present. This connection can either re-create the same emotions, or it can offer a contrast with the previous scene. The success of this phenomena can be seen through movies like Up, easily recognized by a signature tune. The same tune is repeated throughout the movie, with variations in tempo and instrumentation, inciting a wide range of the emotions within the viewer. However, concurrently, a poorly executed score detracts from the story, making it feel forced, mis-matched, and in some cases, even disruptive. Recently, I noticed music causing a narrative disruption while watching the third movie in the Hindi-language Bhool Bhulaiyaa movie franchise, particularly with regard to the song Ami Je Tomar. When examined closely, it can help one see the role of music as a narrative device.
The Ghostly Ballad: Ami Je Tomar
Across the three movies, the haunting melody Ami Je Tomar serves as a recurring motif, shaping audience expectations and influencing their emotional engagement. The song’s appeal is so powerful, it has become synonymous with the movie—to the extent where no one familiar with the movie can refer to one without mentioning the other. If you don’t know Bhool Bhulaiyaa, maybe you can relate to that feeling when you hear the words »Let it go« and immediately think of the movie Frozen, with the melody playing in your head. This influence on the viewer’s memory is because of either how often a song, perfectly intertwined with the plot, is repeated throughout the narrative or because of how it is placed, perhaps shaping a critical plot point of the movie. However, its treatment in Bhool Bhulaiyaa 3 shows how music can inadvertently undermine a story’s coherence.
In the original Bhool Bhulaiyaa, the song Ami Je Tomar emerges as an auditory signature for the presence of the paranormal, intensifying the ominous atmosphere and signaling supernatural occurrences. The track comprises of solo vocals of an anonymous ghostly female figure who roams the castle, her voice echoing behind closed doors. This echoing effect of eerie notes, and the lack of a musical accompaniment to the singing gives a chilling effect. The lead actress Vidya Balan’s character, Avni, dances on this song, slipping fluidly from terrifying to stunning as she falls deeper into a psychological trance, floating between reality and delusion. The impact is immediate—it’s the perfect aesthetic choice to tie the song to her identity but also offers a great insight into her mind. The song serves as a bridge between Avni’s story and the tragic past of Manjulika, a courtesan unjustly killed by the castle’s king, whose envy seals her fate. In a dissociative episode, Avni embodies Manjulika to seek revenge, a transformation powerfully conveyed through this song. Sung in Bengali—a language Avni never learned but the courtesan would have spoken fluently—the song becomes the courtesan’s plea, the ghost’s call, and Avni’s desire.
The second instalment builds on this legacy. By introducing a male rendition of Ami Je Tomar, the movie reinvents its sinister and romantic connotations to suit a different context. The gendered reinterpretation of the song deepens its association with revelation and tension. Once again, the music acts as a prelude to the narrative’s climactic moments, reinforcing its power as a reliable narrative tool.
A Musical Misstep: Bhool Bhulaiyaa 3
The third instalment, however, falters in its use of Ami Je Tomar. While the song’s inclusion signals continuity within the franchise, its application in this movie creates narrative dissonance. Initially, it appears to function as it did in its predecessors—hinting at malevolence but also at heartbreak. It sets the expectation that this, too, is a story about unattained love, especially as the movie opens with the song claiming that a love story has brought the characters and the audience here. However, as the plot progresses, it becomes clear that the music misleads the audience. It suggests one narrative trajectory while the movie veers toward another, culminating in a twist that renders the preceding cues irrelevant.
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In the previous movies, this song, which is ultimately a love song, is included because the ghostly melancholy is a result of haunted love stories. Here, that is not the case. There is no love story to contend with, and yet, a love song forms the center of the movie. Different versions of the song appear throughout the movie, much like in the previous instalments. However, instead of building tension and leading up to the climax, its repetition merely evokes nostalgia for earlier movies without contributing meaningfully to the new plot, making it feel overused and like an aesthetic shortcut rather than a narrative device. This is especially evident during the climactic reveal, where the song’s motif of love feels disconnected from the movie’s driving force—the reason for the ghost’s vengeance. This ›ghost‹ is ultimately revealed to be a trans woman, betrayed by her sisters and executed by her father, the king—punished not for her actions, but for her identity. While the song still plays at the pivotal moment of truth, as in the previous movies, it lacks emotional weight due to the absence of a proper build-up to the twist.
At its core, Ami Je Tomar is a song about unfulfilled desires. Yet, it’s only at the very end that the movie makes a flimsy attempt to tie it to a theme of self-love and identity. If handled well, this could have preserved the franchise’s legacy of haunted love stories by embracing this personal transformation and nurturing acceptance and love for oneself. Instead, the true ›ghost‹ of the movie is an unexpected twist—one that had the potential to be both heart-breaking and progressive but is ultimately executed poorly. Worse still, the uploaded version of the song, easily available on platforms such as YouTube and Spotify, risks spoiling the twist entirely, making the movie itself feel redundant. Though the video is not available, the audience can still guess at a large part of the twist—such as betrayal by family members and feeling incomplete and ill at peace with your body by listening to it. This is a tragedy in itself, as the composition of the song, especially Sonu Nigam’s version of it towards the end, is the best till date. The potential of the song is such that it could give you goosebumps just by listening to it. By simply trying to profit based on past glory, the music sets up an expectation that the story does not fulfil, leaving the audience with confusion and a sense of betrayal.
Narrative Bias and the Role of Music
This discrepancy raises questions about narrative bias and intent. When music is chosen or created, its role as a narrative guide often reflects the filmmakers’ interpretive lens. In some cases, as with Bhool Bhulaiyaa 3, the music can feel imposed—an external commentary that conflicts with the internal logic of the story. Conversely, when music is carefully integrated into the story’s fabric, as in Fleabag, it enhances rather than undermines the narrative. In theory, the final scene of Fleabag is quite sad—the Priest leaves the main character, and she, who constantly breaks the fourth wall, leaves the audience. However, it reads as hopeful, because the music is upbeat and optimistic, with the lyrics of the song that is playing indicating to the viewer she is »going to be alright«. In the course Gender and Affect, we were taught to »close read« the scenes. The Professor always encouraged the class to not just simply look at the scenes, but study everything that is creating the atmosphere. This included the music. An eye-opening moment for me was when we discussed the music in Killing Eve, and how their first meeting, though taking place in a very intimate setting, has an undercurrent of tension flowing through it, because of the music. The soft yet eerie melody does not just underscore the attraction of the two protagonists—it injects a sense of unease, subtly foreshadowing the dangerous, obsessive dynamic that will unfold between them. It made me start focusing keenly on the music in different pieces of media and notice how cleverly it is used to transform narratives. Growing up with Bollywood, where music is deeply embedded in storytelling, I rarely questioned its influence—it felt natural, inseparable from the narrative itself. However, now I question it every time I watch a movie, because it is important to do so, to truly understand the narrative depth of a movie.
The Unseen Narrator
The narrative role of music in visual storytelling is a double-edged sword. When wielded thoughtfully, it can enrich the story, providing layers of meaning and emotional depth. Yet, when misused or disconnected from the narrative’s core, as in Bhool Bhulaiyaa 3, it risks disorienting the audience and undermining the story’s impact. The director and producer of the movie should recognize this.
As viewers and critics, recognizing music as a narrative device invites a deeper appreciation of its power. It also challenges creators to wield this tool responsibly, ensuring that their chosen melodies do more than just something in the background—they must tell the story in harmony with the visual and verbal narrative. For the Bhool Bhulaiyaa franchise, Ami Je Tomar was once a skilled narrator, but its misuse in the third movie reveals a crucial lesson: even the most iconic melodies can lose their meaning when they no longer speak the truth of the story and are simply used for garnering the fans of the franchise towards it.
