‘Killer Soup’ Netflix Series Review - The Odd Couple

Konkana Sen Sharma - a fine actor and a terrific director - resembles a witch in Abhishek Chaubey's Killer Soup. As Swathi, an ex-nurse and an aspiring chef, she cooks unsavory Paya soup, which her lover, Umesh (Manoj Bajpayee), and her husband, Prabhu (Bajpayee again), throw in the washbasin or litter baskets. Even the other characters throw their plates when they taste the Paya soup. Swathi, however, loves her dish and thinks it tastes awesome. This so-called dish might as well be a witches' brew. One can imagine Swathi, with a pointed nose, black cloak, and a pointed hat, cackling in delight while preparing her soup in a big, black container. The nose, the cloak, the hat, along with the flying broomstick are, of course, all invisible. Yet, when you look at Swathi, you only see her as an evil sorceress.

Swathi is also a cunning, manipulative seductress. To help Umesh escape from her house, she distracts Prabhu through her sexual charms by saying things like, "Hit me baby." (Sharma's comic delivery of this suggestive remark makes you chuckle). The women in Killer Soup know that their sensuous powers can make men fall to their knees. Apeksha (Anula Navleker) provocatively touches a man's suit before giving him crucial information. A doctor laps up the shallow compliments given to him by Asha (Shilpa Mudbi), a head constable (she aims to just distract him). But it's Kani Kusruti, as Kirtima, who really looks like an enchantress when she holds Umesh (who she thinks is Prabhu) in her arms after her Kalaripayattu performance. She looks ravishing and kisses so passionately that the screen heats up with an erotic fire.

Kirtima gets a rousing action scene whose strength comes from our sudden realization regarding her martial arts skills. Even the background score jumps in elation. But we are soon reminded that in Killer Soup, luck is on the side of evil. Kirtima is a good character; good characters are hard to find here. An honest police officer like Thupalli (Anbuthasan) suffers fatal consequences (one of his hair stands like an antenna). He does his job too diligently and meets his maker. The death is accidental, but it looks as if the Devil is supporting Swathi in her mission. This moment comes to our mind again when another character similarly falls to their death. Killer Soup is filled with echoes. Arvind (Sayaji Shinde) shows a man a flower and tells him that if taken in small quantities, the flower will take you to heaven; in large quantities, it will take you to hell, and you will be "turned off" if you consume it in excess. This same line, albeit with different words, is repeated by another character later.

There is a scene in Killer Soup where Arvind sees Umesh and cracks a joke about how he can take Prabhu's place to have sex with his wife. This joke is converted into an eight-episode series that goes in various directions. Yes, Umesh ends up taking Prabhu's place. Yes, he and Swahi have sex. But Killer Soup is not a sex comedy or an erotic thriller. The comedy here is black. This is the kind of show that makes you squirm through an acid face reconstruction. Some scenes, like the one where Apeksha tells Sandy (Jasir) to fuck off and the one where Swetha tells Apeksha to fuck off, shake you up with their dramatic fierceness. Then there are fairy tale-esque, dreamy visuals involving fireflies in a forest. These images lack emotions because they are produced through an unconvincing source: Inspector Hassan's (Nasser) affection for a deceased officer. I am referring to Thupalli, whose relationship with Hassan is not developed very deeply, which is why Hassan's madness merely feels like an excuse to increase the quirkiness. Nasser, though, is an incredible actor, and he lends some credibility to the stress, the hallucinations.

In fact, every actor gives a fantastic performance. They all fit the part. Bajpayee, expectedly, is in superb form. I love how he delicately walks the fine line between comedy and seriousness. I also love how characters effortlessly mix English with their native tongue. Everyone has a distinct accent. These voices alone bring in a lot of wonderful, mirthful flavor. The story unfolds in Mainjur, which is effectively turned into a fantasy land. Chaubey manages to do here what Zoya Akhtar failed to do with Riverdale: Make her fantasy setting a part of the real world. There is a town called Minjur on the outskirts of North Chennai. Mainjur, though, is created with imagination. It's filled with reality as well as spectral illusions.

Swathi and Umesh's relationship is darkly delicious. He uses her for money, while she uses him to fill the void with love. But in their own twisted way, they are made for each other. In terms of appearance, Swathi is the beauty, and Umesh is the beast (he is cockeyed). But once you get to know them, he looks like a beauty, and she looks like a beast. Killer Soup shows us how Swathi is pushed towards the bad side. You can hear her heart breaking into a million pieces whenever someone casually, or negatively talks to her about her dream of owning a restaurant. Swathi starts an affair with Umesh because he gives her the respect, the affection that Prabhu fails to offer. It helps that the two men look quite similar to each other. Swathi finds her ideal husband in Umesh. While digging someone's grave, she realizes that not only in photos but also in real life, her lover can replace her husband. While watching Killer Soup, it becomes evident how Swathi is tightly intertwined with Umesh. Hence, we get that surreal "happily-ever-after" final scene on a bus that's strangely moving as well as weird. The more you think about the show, the more you grow confident that no other final scene would have made sense. Because from beneath all the violence and quirkiness, a very warped romance strongly emerges.

The shots are composed with great care, but the tone is incredibly dynamic, so much so that it feels as if everything will collapse at any minute. In lesser hands, this discomfort between the mood and the images would have given rise to something shaky, something faint. I am not a fan of either Udta Punjab or Sonchiriya, but these films indeed display Chaubey's skills as a talented filmmaker. His assurance keeps Killer Soup, which he wrote with Harshad Nalawade, Anant Tripathi, and Unaiza Merchant, from crumbling to pieces. The show is not perfect, but it's also not not succulent.

Final Score- [8/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
Follow @vikasonorous on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times