Phir Aayi Hasseen Dilruba (2024) Movie Review

The Vinil Matthew-directed, Kanika Dhillon-penned first installment, “Haseen Dilruba” (2021), became one of the most streamed movies for Netflix upon release. That popularity could be attributed to the plot’s musculature or at least the overall idea: a love triangle between a housewife, Rani Kashyap (Taapsee Pannu), her husband, Rishu Saxena (Vikrant Massey), Rishu’s elder cousin, and his conventionally more attractive brother, Neel (Harshvardhan Rane).

The love triangle soon becomes deadly, and the movie becomes a post-mortem of morality dying at the altar of love and lust, pushing Rishu and Rani towards each other even as they succumb to violence, planned with the help of pulp novels written by author Dinesh Pandit, whom Rani swears her entire life’s compass and relationship choices by.

One of the issues with “Haseen Dilruba” had been its sloppy attempts to elevate itself from its pulpy roots. Instead, the film focused for the majority of its runtime on the deterioration of the marriage between Rani and Rishu rather than on the sleaze and the convoluted plotting that would force characters to take up arms or even cut off limbs for each other.

It never explores that deterioration with enough depth, and neither does it highlight the character arc of an introverted, hapless character like Rishu, plumbing to desperate ends and consequently becoming more attractive to the eyes of Rani. The ideas the movie ultimately does explore—and would continue to explore—are about two horrible people unable to live without each other, even as the world and the law are hellbent on tearing them apart and bringing them to justice.

Phir Aayi Hasseen Dilruba (2024) Movie — A still from “Phir Aayi Hasseen Dilruba” (2024)

“Phir Aayi Hasseen Dilruba” (2024) displays a couple of changes. A change in director is notable, with Jayprad Desai replacing Vinil Matthew. Secondly, the script shows more of its love of amoral characters, trying to carve out their definitions and boundaries of love and the steps to execute them.

As the movie begins, Rani and Rishu are hiding out in Agra, living separately, choosing to meet surreptitiously under the rain, in the crowds, hands touching. Their conversations only occur a few feet apart or through earpods, which are also color-coded. But their moments of temporary peace are disrupted by two new characters colliding into their lives.

Abhimanyu (Sunny Kaushal), a hapless admirer of Rani, whose haplessness becomes essential for the couple once they realize that they are being chased by the returning Inspector Kishore Rawat (Aditya Shrivastava) – now an ACP – under the leadership of Commissioner of Police Mrityunjay Prasad (Jimmy Shergill), who has a personal vendetta against Rishu. Rishu also has to contend against the advances of his landlady Poonam (Bhumika Dube), whose connection with Rishu extends to the two of them surviving in this harsh pulp world with the loss of appendages—for Rishu an arm, for Poonam a leg.

As Rani and Rishu hatch a plan, again based on the ideas of her favorite author, Dinesh Pandit, whose writings the couple uses as coded messages to communicate, their plans get a monkey wrench when Abhimanyu also gets wise to their machinations. As secrets start to unfold, the plot becomes complicated.

Thankfully, while the plot becomes complicated, it isn’t convoluted. On the contrary, the focus on the plot and the twisty nature of storytelling allows for the suspension of disbelief to be more congruent. Abhimanyu’s character arc resembles Rishu’s from the previous film, except the turn occurs much earlier, and the consequent revelation is delectable. It brings unpredictability to the proceedings, and Sunny Kaushal is a revelation in the role.

The movie, however, has its share of moments that could be deemed illogical, even as the screenplay sets up for the presence of those illogical moments, like crocodiles under the Yamuna. It accounts for a fantastic overhead shot, but it is also one of those homages to pulp fiction and the rapidity with which they would come out, recycling plots and introducing outlandish elements within a familiar potpourri to engage the readership. “Phir Aayi Hasseen Dilruba” excels at homaging its pulp roots far better than its predecessor.

The issues, though, stem from its narrative as well. Firstly, it utilizes episodic structure in its editing at times, especially in those final 20 minutes. Secondly, as much of a baroque and sensual sensibility as it wants to bring forth before diving in fully to trashy pulp, “Phir Aayi Hasseen Dilruba” is surprisingly constrained in its depiction of violence. As far as noir or even pulp novels are concerned, implicitness is preferred, understandably, but I would have preferred the movie to push the envelope a bit further. It does, however, never shy away from giving characters empathetic dimensions, ensuring that even as the characters delve further and further into their ambiguous morality, a viewer can still root for them.

After all, jilted lovers communicating via poems or constructing elaborate plans based on pulp novels and succeeding in that endeavor feels intentionally self-deprecating from the perspective of the film’s creators. It is further established by dialogues exchanged between characters, from Abhimanyu being frustrated at having to deliver a tiffin to his wife’s husband and then going out to watch a film with his wife to Rani learning of the elaborate plan and rebelling against it, arguing that the story they are taking inspiration from is outlandish even for her tastes. I would have appreciated it if the special effects and CGI, especially in those underwater sequences or the film’s denouement, had been rendered better.

This is quite arguably the biggest surprise of the year for me, considering my dislike of the first installment. The fact that some of its sequences, especially the love triangle, evoke the swampy, delectable trash noir of John McNaughton’s “Wild Things” is a massive compliment. The flowery nature of the language works as a suitable complement against the primal nature of the actions undertaken by these characters.