Lord Curzon Ki Haveli

There’s something innately delicious about a good mystery — the kind that tightens its grip with every scene, whispering secrets just out of earshot, inviting the viewer to lean in, connect dots, and squint into the cinematic shadows. Alas, Lord Curzon Ki Haveli is not that film. Instead, what unfolds is an overwrought chamber drama that aspires to Hitchcockian suspense but lands somewhere between amateur theatre and a particularly awkward dinner party.

Lord Curzon Ki Haveli, directed by Anshuman Jha, may have been a great mystery thriller on paper. The film, with a very Hitchcock vibe, starts on a promising note, but soon enough, almost 15 minutes into the film, it loses steam. Yes, that early. I will be honest, I sat alone only for its actors. It features Anuj Mathur, Rasika Dugal, Paresh Pahuja and Zoha Rahman- all very watchable actors, all who have proved their mettle in projects before. But Lord Curzon Ki Haveli is unable to use these actors to their hilt thanks to a sketchy plot which is woke unnecessarily and a terribly written screenplay.

If you’ve ever stared at old British buildings from the colonial era that are scattered throughout hill stations such as Shimla and Mussoorie, and thought, “I bet something deeply absurd and faintly colonial is going on in there,” then Lord Curzon Ki Haveli exists to confirm your suspicions. Within minutes of the movie, we are in the territory of posh dread and psychological warfare, except this time, the ghosts are postcolonial. A mystery movie laced with dark comedy, it throws four Indians into an English countryside dinner party and watches them unravel.

Two unlikely couples find themselves in a house far away from the madding crowd in the English countryside. It’s meant to be a convivial dinner, getting to know each other better. But right from the time they are ushered in by their hosts Rohit (Arjun Mathur) and Sanya (Zora Rahman), Ira (Rasika Dugal) and Basukinath (Paresh Pahuja) sense there’s something off: a big chest, placed in the middle of the living room. It becomes an object of increasing concern: what is inside? Or is it who? Is there, shudder, a body inside?

You can see why Lord Curzon Ki Haveli sounds attractive on paper. Regardless of the budget, it’s an “independent-minded” Hindi film, the kind that used to be conceived, crowd-funded and exhibited in the pre-streaming age by film-makers like Sandeep Mohan, Q and Sudhish Kamath. The title is intriguing if one knows their history. It’s a chamber drama, shot largely in the living room of a British manor. It’s a lean production; the main score is Beethoven, the sound design is a co-writer, the suspense is supposed to be Hitchcockian. There are only four, sometimes five, characters in the house. It’s fully conversational, an introvert’s nightmare. There’s enough room for the lens to lurk around. The performers have worked in an indie setup before. The mood — where actors have the freedom to put on strange accents and do strange things — is a front for social commentary.