Three years back when I watched Netflix’s Haseen Dillruba, despite not being a fan of romantic crime thrillers, I was surprisingly invested. The film was well-written, thoughtful, had multiple layers, and was thoroughly enjoyable. So, naturally, when the sequel was announced, I was ready with my popcorn tub, soda can, and high hopes. To say that Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba disappointed, would be an understatement. Jayprad Desai’s sequel feels like a desperate attempt to cash in on the original’s success, with no care or thought given to the new story. While Desai attempts to recreate the experience of the first film, he seems to have overlooked the things that made Haseen Dillruba work.
Last time we were in Dillruba world, Vikrant Massey’s Rishabh had cut off his hand and staged his own death to save his disloyal wife Rani (Taapsee Pannu) from going to jail for murdering her former lover. This dramatic ending provided a perfect springboard for the director to build onto something much more meaningful for a sequel. Instead, Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba suffers from painful pacing, an overstretched screenplay, cringey dialogue, an illogical plot, and no real hook to keep you stuck in its story.
Jimmy Shergill has a sporadic role in the film
The film opens in Agra, where Rani is living as a small-time makeup artist, while Rishabh is hiding in disguise, trying his best to get the arrangements made for the couple to move abroad and start afresh. With the Uttar Pradesh police somehow still hung up on the case, the two toxic lovebirds cannot be seen together. They now exchange coy glances like forbidden high school lovers across the street, talk on hours-long phone calls, and meet in secret.
And oh, like always, they speak fluent Dinesh Pandit – the crime novelist whose works gave them the perfect exit plan last time. You’ll see the crazy couple painting quotes from his books on walls or even garbage vans to send messages to each other. Okay, admittedly, however painful the rest of the film might be, this laureate exchange is quite impressive. It might not have an ounce of practicality, but the almost Sherlocky idea is in alignment with the kind of madness that had taken over our protagonists towards the end of the first film.
The Kashyaps are now in Agra, planning to start a new life abroad as soon as possible
We also have a new main character now: Abhimanyu, a medical compounder who is smitten by Rani – reminding us of Rishabh’s pre-disaster phase. He is perpetually in the hope of wooing the widow, unaware of her criminally insane and very much alive dead husband and their disturbing history. While Sunny Kaushal is fabulous in certain scenes that manage to convey the eeriness of the circumstances – especially in his first scene with Massey on a carnival ride – the character feels underwritten.
Other major characters, including the leads Pannu and Massey, and Jimmy Shergill’s Monty, face similar fates. Unlike the first film, the underwhelming script leaves little to no room for the characters to shine and lay bare a darker aspect of their psyche. To see such a talented pool of actors being criminally underutilized is unpardonable.
There is a scene in which Shergill, playing a cop and the uncle of the victim in the film, tells his senior officer that “this case is like indigestion.” Umm… to take creative liberty and have theatrical dialogue is fine, but this was totally out of place, Jimmy. His sporadic presence is marred by overacting and fails to portray the pain of someone who recently lost their nephew and now has blood in their eyes.
Taapsee Pannu’s Rani Kashyap again finds herself on the police’s radar in this sequel
The film also suffers from irrationality. A bunch of things are happening just because the filmmaker wants them to happen that way. While some illogical plot points could be chalked down to luck and coincidence, the film’s story overstretches its reliance on convenience and starts bordering on incredulity. Characters are meeting and getting married in the span of three days; people are having a gala time boating in a crocodile-infested river; jumping off cliffs isn’t causing as much as a scratch; and people are inexplicably bumping into each other! Even if the makers wanted to give the story the vibe of gossip magazine column, a bit of rationality would have done the trick.
That said, the film has thankfully done a fair job with visual metaphors. Throughout the film, we find many clever poetic cues. Rani’s hand-shaped phone stand was the most fascinating of them all. The film’s inclusion of “Ek Haseena Thi” from Rishi Kapoor’s Karz (1980) makes for another interesting choice. The song is itself a tale of a woman’s betrayal and adds just the right note needed to keep things playful. Sadly, Kapoor’s medley can’t solely carry the burden of the film.
Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba lacks the essence of the original film
Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba fails to create the kind of curiosity that fuels such thrillers. Even the shocking revelations won’t take you by complete surprise. The storyline falls flat and there are hardly any thrills. Given that the characters had turned almost cynical towards the end of the original movie, more depth was needed to keep the momentum going. The film barely scratches on that surface, delivering a superficial flow of events. Even though the characters scream, yell, cry and do everything in their power to convey their helplessness, the film fails to make you feel for them, unlike the first film.
The only motivation to continue watching this two-hour disappointment is the faint hope that the original movie’s charm will resurface. And indeed, it does, but only sporadically and in fleeting moments. For fans like me, these brief glimpses are a cruel tease, hinting at what could have been if the sequel had lived up to its predecessor’s standards. If you’re new to the twisted romance of Rani and Rishu, you might be able to look past its flaws. But if you’re familiar with the original film, the disappointment might be too much to bear.
Rating: 6/10