‘Murder Mubarak’ Netflix Movie Review - Audience Look for Comedy While the Police for the Culprit

If anyone is taking note of the worst films of 2024, they should include Homi Adajania's Murder Mubarak in their list. Don't be fooled by its "quirky title." Don't be aroused by its "quirky" opening scene where a cat named Prince Harry licks what looks like blood while the characters (or stick figures) are introduced through "quirky" one-word descriptions like tharki, junkie, fekuchand, bechara, and bullshitter. You will never be able to guess why these characters gather in one place together. No, it's not for a wedding or a birthday party. Do your best. This is a "quirky movie." No idea? Fine. They assemble for a tambola party. That sound you hear is not of boisterous laughter. It's humor gasping for breath in this over-controlled production, where whimsical background noises desperately accentuate that certain lines should be taken as cues for guffaws. Murder Mubarak is one of those comedies where your mouth opens for yawns, not chortles.

There is one good joke here, however, and its presence in this dull picture seems more surprising than the reveal regarding the identity of the killer. Murder Mubarak is the kind of disaster where the audience, before the police, cannot catch the murderer because there are no dots to connect. Crucial information about someone is brought to the table near the end during a confession. Anyway, there is another reason why I was unable to sniff out the culprit - I was busy de-freezing my senses. Murder Mubarak is an expert at mind-numbing procedures. It knows a thing or two about putting the viewers in hibernation.

Where do I even start? The very first thing that grates on your nerves is the flatness with which the scenes are directed. Every frame looks rigid and lifeless. Cringy commercials, like the one played in movie theaters in which a man lectures that you needn't go to the police first before taking an injured human to the hospital, look more lively in comparison. The actors commit to their vapid parts with enthusiasm, but their zest directly conflicts with Adajania's colorless treatment, rendering everything tedious.

The movie unfolds at a Royal Club in Delhi, but everything looks like a discarded studio set. The whole film could have very well been shot on a green screen set. Moreover, the actors might have performed with props, which could have been replaced with the bodies of the other actors later during the editing process. While watching Murder Mubarak, I never - in any scene - got the impression that two (or more) people are sharing a frame with one another. You feel a distance between them. Unsurprisingly, there is no chemistry between Sara Ali Khan and Vijay Varma. They apparently harbor romantic feelings for each other, but that romance never becomes convincing or palpable. Then again, you shouldn't expect that latter quality in a cheap-looking film like Murder Mubarak.

Khan and Varma get the most terrible scenes here. Their lovey-dovey nonsense saps you of energy and life. It also stops the story dead in its tracks. They come up with their own nice in-joke involving ACP Bhavani's (Pankaj Tripathi) "Hmm," which elicits a smile from you when they giggle in front of the inspector. It's perhaps the only likable thing in this mess. And "mess" is the accurate word to describe this dud, given how scenes just seem to randomly come and go without any rhythm, especially during the final portions. Adajania doesn't have the spontaneity to make a material like this work. No one matters to this director. He sees his characters the same way he sees objects in the background. There is no difference between a cushion and the woman who sits on this cushion. Murder Mubarak is made by somebody who finds no joy in the filmmaking process.

Final Score- [2/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
Follow @vikasonorous on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times