Mumbai: 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.
A Bakery, a Marriage, and a Changing Goa
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 — reflecting 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.
Where Do Babies Come From?
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.
The seven-year-old believes Desmond when he says babies come from Malaysia, pointing to the tag on Thomas’s shirt. He soon learns it is a lie and seeks an answer from a priest, who explains 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.
Playful Filmmaking
Kaushal fills 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 — the laid-back tangerine afternoons spent with lively quarrels and friendly banter. It is refreshing 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, later establishing the serious cracks in their marriage. Cinematographer Dorian Lucarelli frames these portions with ease as Kaushal switches perspective from the mundanities of childhood to the edgy complexities of adult life.
Standout Performances
Hridansh Parekh plays Thomas convincingly. His toothy smile, curly hair and glistening eyes add to the pleasantries, and his sparkling chemistry with the other two kids makes for a lively exploration — Kaushal doesn’t infantilise their concerns, treating the quirks with respectful appeal.
Gulshan and Rasika share a striking screen presence, 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.
The Verdict
Kaushal doesn’t let the heaviness settle for long, putting the spotlight back on Thomas. The film takes the shape of a mature relationship drama at times and becomes a slapstick fairytale on occasion, revelling in the same wonderment as some early 2000s television shows featuring kids.
Its existence in 2026 feels rebellious in itself — like the bakery 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.
