This atypical film is based is based on a screw story. A pity, this unconventional and somewhat disturbing film got swamped in the Saiyaara cyclone. Murderbaad deserves to be seen. It is not a great work of art, nor does it purport to be that. It is an untold story, told with a surprising agility and an intuitive knowledge as to how to get the audiences’ attention even when dealing with a rather ugly subject: necrophilia.
Writer-director-producer Arnab Chatterjee takes on the theme with a bold blend of sensitivity and a pulpy raciness. That said, the film should have been half an hour shorter. With a more austere editing (Dev Rao Jadhav) could have projected a more pacy perspective, reducing the scattering of red herrings to a more manageable micro level.
The plot seems to favour the populist format—songs, suspense, etc—but the theme repudiates any egalitarian manoeuvres. The basic dilemma—who would want to watch a film about a mentally sick man who likes to make love to corpses (luckily female only) — is like a fish bone stuck in the throat.
Arnab Chatterjee makes a concerted effort to get past the hurdle. He has the support of a cast that knows its job, but just about. Nakul Rohan Sahdev as the necrophilic protagonist puts up a brave front. It is not an easy part to carry past the checkposts. The young actor tries hard. But his inexperience shows up at crucial junctures, especially in the last half an hour. He is more relaxed doing the rakish romantic tourist guide.
Manish Chaudhary has played this kind of stuffy professional innumerable times. His character of the police procedural in-charge not only offers the actor no room to breathe freely, it also puts his character into some imbecilic situations where he takes incalculable risks with the life of the NRI girl Isabelle (Kannika Kapoor) who is used as a bait .
I liked how the narrative makes the transition from Jaipur to Kolkata to nab the bizarre sexual offender. There is a very sly moment of humour when a friendly police officer in Kolkata offers geela sandesh to a female cop from Mumbai who is clearly not into sweets.
While not lacking in grace I found the film denuded of subtlety. On the other hand, the narrative never leans into sleaziness, which considering the subject matter it could have easily done.
The climax is borderline implausible. But there is a classic Bengali Rabindra Sangeet Ogo Bideshini played as the theme song. It reminds us that this film knows what it is doing even while negotiating a theme that is off-putting to the average filmgoer.
