Lord Curzon Ki Haveli Movie Review: Rasika Dugal, Arjun Mathur’s chamber piece opens with intrigue then nosedives into nonsense

Things would rarely go right in a film which has two ill-fitted couples, a dinner party and a wooden chest the hosts refuse to open. Actor Anshuman Jha’s debut directorial Lord Curzon Ki Haveli has a juicy premise, one whose promise is established from an initial shot of a man’s foreboding boots and a hammer wickedly swaying by their side. Somebody is going to get killed tonight, or is somebody already dead?

The question perturbs Dr. Basuki Nath (Paresh Pahuja) who, probably on the insistence of his wife Ira (Rasika Dugal), has come to visit her friends Rohit (Arjun Mathur) and Sanya (Zoha Rahman) at their isolated summer house in the British countryside. Basuki is an uptight, anglophile who refuses the offer for a drink. His wife Ira, on the other hand, is a subdued free-spirit who wouldn’t mind her orange juice being spiked by some vodka. Rohit and Sanya are polar opposite. They are a bohemian couple who don’t think much about pausing the evening to sneak back into their bedroom for a quickie.

Directo: Anshuman Jha

Writer: Bikas Ranjan Mishra

Cast: Rasika Dugal, Arjun Mathur, Paresh Pahuja, Tanmay Dhanania and Zoha Rahman

Lord Curzon Ki Haveli goes from 0 to 100 a little too fast. It, however, sows its seeds well. How can Sanya, a failed actor, and Rohit, a fired employee, afford such a lavish house? Is Ira flirting with Rohit? Why does Sanya own so many clothes that are more befitting for a noble Englishwoman? Is somebody really knocking from inside the chest or is Basuki hallucinating? All of this, however, blooms into a big, messy weed, whose patterns aren’t worthy to be deciphered. What starts off as absurd, turns abysmal. When Basuki ties Rohit and Sanya up and threatens them, they aren’t bothered, as if they had forgotten to react appropriately in such a situation. As the night progresses, secrets start unravelling. Basuki is shown his hypocrisy, Ira sheds the garb of being a homely wife, Rohit and Sanya might be hiding more than they are revealing. But everything progresses towards cheap shortcuts. A pizza delivery guy enters the picture, solely to take the narrative forward. Paresh Pahuja’s idea of playing a bhadralok Bengali is acting stiff. The film seems to jump from one thread to another, not coming together. The reveal too doesn’t give more than a whimper.

The conviction of competent performers like Arjun Mathur and Rasika Dugal piques some interest in Lord Curzon Ki Haveli but they too soon merge into the hogwash the film progresses to become. In the packaging of a thriller, we get a scattered commentary on Indians in the UK, grappling with their identity, that often feels like an afterthought. The film also tries to titillate when it runs out of ideas, giving the feeling of a B-grade production which equates sexual with narrative thrills.

A contained film offers a variety of possibilities, Lord Curzon Ki Haveli, however, takes routes which go around in circles and leave you dizzy by the end. Inspired by Alfred Hitchcock, the camera stays on the little details. Is Rohit’s foot tapping the source of the knocks coming from the chest? What is the relevance of zooming in on the logo of the brand on the t-shirt of a pizza delivery boy? It’s a classic case of imitating style without the substance. The film in its execution forgets the core of Hitchcock’s philosophy on thrillers. A bomb going off under a table is shock, it ticking under is suspense. Lord Curzon Ki Haveli only aims to shock and rattle. It doesn’t understand that one of the most haunting lines in film, ‘What’s in the box?’ (Seven, 1995), isn’t a question that needs to be answered.