So when I decided I’ll review Mrs Serial Killer, I thought I’ll take notes like a good little nerd. The first line I have is “What the hell is happening”.
Mrs Serial killer is supposed to be a crime thriller written, directed and edited by Shirish Kunder, and co-produced with wife Farah Khan, about a woman, played by Jacqueline Fernandez, trying to save her husband, Manoj Bajpayee, who’s been accused of being the town’s ‘next-door serial killer’.
The only thing this movie killed is my patience.
It’s difficult to point out what horrified me the most. The lighting throughout the movie, Jacqueline acting, or the fact that all these actors probably voluntarily signed up to act in this. One can only imagine they lost a bet and were dared to take up this movie.
One thing I really want to flag here is the lighting. From red and purple shades to hallways lit up like the inside of a club, it seems like the makers invested more in the lighting department than a good script-writer.
The small town’s serial killer kidnapped and murdered pregnant and unmarried women, and took out the foetus to store in a jar. What is this obsession with unmarried and pregnant women? Will there ever be a scenario in Bollywood where they’re just left alone? Hume nahi banna kisi ka muse ya ‘victim’ (We don’t want to be anyone muse or victim).
Moving over from this weird fascination. The first 10 minutes of the film throw too many twists and turns and leaves you wondering what the next one hour and 20 minutes will have to offer.
From Jacqueline’s very exaggerated planning and conniving to cook up a plan to save her husband, to the extent where it sometimes seems like she’s forgotten she’s driving, to the very painful attempts to get in elements of horror, to a dash of casual homophobia, where the ‘rebel gurrrl’ (who actually wears a t-shirt that says ‘rebel’ because how else will we know, right?) says “You’re wearing women’s perfume! Are you gay?“: if you still want to watch this, proceed with caution.
Mrs Serial killer can’t seem to find one tone to stick with. Suspense-filled moments are ruined by over-the-top acting and the damn lighting.
When you finally think you’re biting into a juicy thriller-esq moment, Bajpayee’s character exclaims, “That’s not fair. Trailer comedy ki dikhake picture romance ki dikha raha hai.” (That’s not fair. The trailer you showed was a comedy, but the movie is a romance.)
Well, what was not fair was that trailer thriller like dikhake picture comedy ki dikha di. (The trailer you showed was a thriller, but the movie was a comedy.)