Rahul Desai
Based on author Anuja Chauhan’s 2021 book Club You To Death, Part-White Lotus and part-Knives Out, the film is a snide social satire masquerading as a high-society whodunit. At 143 minutes, it’s a bit long and meandering, but the indulgent world-building is part of the payoff.
Murder Mubarak revels in kooky upper-class dramedy. The older cast members, in particular, serve their eat-the-rich renditions. Given the already-excessive tone of the North Indian club culture, Murder Mubarak employs a needless barrage of music and cartoonish sound effects.
But the craft is intent on teaching us the difference between slapstick and sardonic. It used to be my pet peeve, but that pet has now escaped into the wilderness and become a feral peeve.
Speaking of priorities, a chunk of Murder Mubarak is devoted to a lingering romance that looks at odds with the larger eccentricities of the story. There are various reasons for this, not least the lack of chemistry. This makes sense in hindsight, but it’s hard to digest while it’s happening.
The climactic twist (or revelation) plays a key role in rationalizing the treatment and flaws of the film. This one does a decent job in that sense, because the ‘victims’ remain prey to the whims and romanticisms of the privileged class.
It’s the heart that reveals the body. Murder Mubarak takes the scenic route to find the balance, but it arrives. And it commits. Better late – if not straight – than never.