‘Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba’ review: Diminishing returns

One thing Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba understands is the value of a memorable setting. There’s a fetching scene in the rain, slo-mo, bright red and blue umbrellas, scored with ‘Ek Haseena Thi’ from Karz. There’s a boat ride with the Taj Mahal as the backdrop, romantic if it weren't for crocodiles swishing by below. My favourite is the meeting at the fairground. Rani (Taapsee Pannu), Rishu (Vikrant Massey) and Abhimanyu (Sunny Kaushal) sit on one of those giant arks that swing back and forth, and face up to their deceptions and hurts. It’s only right that the ride oscillates in a scything motion, for this is a franchise in which any weeds obscuring the path of love are violently cleared. 

At the end of Haseen Dillruba (2021), married couple Rishu and Rani have successfully fooled Agra’s finest into thinking he’s dead; they blow up their house along with her lover-turned-blackmailer, he cuts off his arm and leaves it there for the police to find. It’s a crazy sacrifice in line with the kinky emotional tenor of that film, where love hurts both thematically (she cheats on him with his cousin) and literally (he punishes her by laying painful and dangerous traps, even as she starts falling for him). It’s a smart bit of continuity when, in the new film, during their first lovers’ clinch, Rishu backs Rani into a dresser and steps on her toes. He can’t stop hurting her.

With Rishabh assumed dead and the murder case against Rani closed, the lovers are hoping to skip town and start a new life in Thailand. The entry of a new foe complicates matters. Inspector Mrityunjay Paswan (Jimmy Sheirgill) has a personal stake: he was the uncle of Neel, Rani’s hunky lover in the first film. Called in by ACP Jamwal (Aditya Srivastava) on the hunch that Rishabh is alive, he immediately goes about unnerving Rani and trying to smoke out her husband. The couple hit on a risky scheme: Rani will marry the persistent but shy compounder Abhimanyu, who’s head over heels for her, to throw the police off her scent. 

Rani’s sudden proposal to Abhimanyu doesn’t work as a scene—the film just goes through with it because it has to be done. Soon, Rani’s in another loveless marriage with a dupe, but there’s a difference. In Haseen Dillruba, there was the perverse pleasure of timid Rishu breaking bad. But Abhimanyu doesn’t work the same way. Kaushal has a lovely speaking voice but doesn't offer anything that Massey can't. There’s never a feeling he has a shot with Rani, and that’s a problem. His Abhimanyu is the big reason the film feels predictable, despite a series of increasingly insane twists.

Jayprad Desai takes over directorial duties from Vinil Mathew—the difference isn’t really discernible. The series feels like a Kanika Dhillon joint; writer of both films, co-producer on this, first- and third-billed in the opening credits. It’s a curious writing career—some perversity, some social uplift, a fondness for triangles. There’s a kinky edge to some of the writing in Phir Aayi that’s very Dhillon: Rani and Rishabh planning to spend their lives together and telling each other in the same breath not to stray, or the woman with the damaged leg (Bhumika Dube) who has the uncontrollable hots for one-armed Rishabh. 

The pressure of writing a coherent mystery seems to weigh on Dhillon. The film gets very silly after a point—the big showdown on the bridge is a mess, incoherently shot, acted and conceived. The obsession with the works of (fictional) pulp writer Dinesh Pandit hasn’t paid off over two films, despite a late attempt here. Phir Aayi is at its best when Rani and Mrityunjay are trying to outwit each other (both Pannu and Sheirgill can spit out a sarcastic line). But we get as much of them as we do of Rishabh—more interesting in the first film when we couldn’t read his intentions—and his pale shadow, Abhimanyu. 

Netflix’s recent film slate has ranged from excellent (Amar Singh Chamkila) to good (Kho Gaye Hum Kahaan, Jaane Jaan) to dire (Murder Mubarak, Maharaj). Phir Aayi is towards the lower end of this scale, rescued at times by Pannu but mostly flailing. The film feels underbudgeted and hurriedly put together. Above all, it feels unnecessary. There was no compelling reason to revisit these characters. They’d exhausted their surprises in the first film, and the plot has to work extra hard to compensate.    

The final twist is ridiculously wishful. Ulajh, released last week, tries in its dying moments to will into being a sequel that will probably never happen. If tentatively leaving a door open for another film is this damaging to the one you’re releasing, saner heads should prevail. 

‘Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba’ is on Netflix.