Trunk Tale:
There have been films set mostly in a single location, and one that takes place almost entirely in an isolated mansion is relatively rare. The premise lends itself best to a murder mystery, or, if the filmmaker dares, a dark farce.
The quirkiness of Anshuman Jha’s film is confined to its title, Lord Curzon Ki Haveli. Living in this isolated mansion in England, where cell phones don’t work, and the nearest bus stop is a long walk away, are Rohit (Arjun Mathur) and Sanya (Zoha Rahman). Even though they are expecting guests for dinner, they are more interested in romping in bed than making preparations. Sanya then spends the rest of the film dressed just in a man’s shirt.
They are in stark contrast to the unhappy couple trudging to their door—the husband, Basuki (Paresh Pahuja), a grim looking doctor, and his wife, Ira (Rasika Dugal) trying to be extra chirpy to offset his sullenness.
Basuki’s manner is borderline rude, though not quite as uncivilised as the hosts walking off for a quickie in the upstairs bedroom, after serving the guests orange juice. Basuki notices a large wooden trunk in the living room and asks what’s in it. In jest, Rohit replies that it contains the dead body of Lord Curzon. Basuki demands to look inside the locked trunk and Rohit refuses to open it, which leads to the angry doctor attacking and tying them both up. If, till this point, the film held out some hope of some mystery, intense drama, psychological or maybe sexual tension, it quickly dissipates into ridiculousness.
Jha and his writer, Bikas Ranjan Mishra, decide that the absurdity they have unleashed must have a purpose, so as Basuki’s Brown Sahib snobbery (though the fan of the British doesn’t know who Lord Curzon was) and Ira’s suffocation as the wife of this joyless man are revealed, the issue of colonialism, racism, illegal immigration and social hypocrisy are thrown in. An inept pizza delivery man (Tanmay Dhanania), is trapped in this loony web—a man who can’t get a simple order right, does not really make Indian immigrants look good!
The actors do their bit, particularly Rasika Dugal, who goes from meek desi wife to bitter, scorned woman without hitting any false notes. The music by Simon Fransquet is another plus point, sparingly used to underline the tense moments.
A homage to chamber dramas, like Alfred Hitchcock’s Rope—this film lacks either the wit or the wickedness to go anywhere with the mildly intriguing set up. It is decidedly a difficult task, particularly in this time of diminishing attention spans. It is more like a play, still, there is some degree of unpredictability to the script—though, it is obvious that if there is a coffin-sized trunk there will be a body in it.
(This piece first appeared in rediff.com)
