Readers Write In #717: Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba Is A Disappointing Affair

By Vikas Yadav

Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba opens with Rani (Taapsee Pannu) running towards the police station. Later, her husband, Rishabh (Vikrant Massey), runs after a thief who steals Rani’s purse. We also see a man holding two mannequin heads trying to catch up with a woman riding a rickshaw. It’s only natural then that the movie itself is about Rani and Rishabh wanting to run away to a foreign country together. As someone who loved the first Haseen Dillruba, I was really looking forward to this sequel. One of the pleasures of that 2021 film was the interplay between fire and water. From my review: “The film takes place in Jwalapur, but it’s the view of paani you see first. Figuratively, the fire could be associated with feelings of lust, love, and anger, while an incident that attenuates these feelings could be seen as water.” Water also plays a key role in Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba. It rains when Rani runs towards the police station. It rains when Rani asks Abhimanyu (Sunny Kaushal) to marry her. And then there are also those news reports about crocodiles roaming in the river. You can be sure that the characters will meet these animals later.

Haseen Dillruba had Vinil Mathew as its director, and he really understood the passionate moods of the script from Kanika Dhillon. The mad intensity of the romance, which resulted in a severed arm, was vigorously brought to the foreground. The climax, as a result, felt not merely shocking but also convincingly presented an unhinged vision of heaven made for people like Rani and Rishabh. Jayprad Desai takes the director’s chair for this sequel, and the only area where he manages to find some success is in the film’s appearance. With the help of cinematographer Vishal Sinha, Desai gives Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba a pulpy look. The lurid colors are lip-smackingly good and effectively put us in a trashy environment packed with love, lust, and raging hormones. Desai, however, does almost nothing with this mood. The passions are muted – the emotions never catch fire. I don’t even remember seeing a literal fire. Did all those shots of water dilute the incandescent feelings of love? Poonam (Bhumika Dube) mentions that she jumped from the second floor for her ex-boyfriend. Abhimanyu, with a flower in his hand, waits for Rani while getting drenched in the rainfall. The scene where he talks to Rishabh unfolds on a swing that moves back and forth. So there are moments when Rishabh appears on top of Abhimanyu and when Abhimanyu appears on top of Rishabh. This visual accurately represents how the two men try to prove themselves superior in front of each other. 

We observe these things and make these connections, but we never actually feel them. If Mathew reveled in the characters’ insanity and placed it front and center, Desai merely touches this madness. Under his wings, this sequel looks like a weak imitation of the original. Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba might have watched Haseen Dillruba and then must have thought, “Hey, even I can create such a demented atmosphere.” How does it prove itself? By throwing unbelievable twists upon twists at us. You cannot call the original’s contrivances “logical,” but they had convincing powers. They, in their own way, felt natural. The twists and turns here, though, come across as desperate for attention as well as reaction. Dhillon’s writing isn’t very strong. If you want to figure out what motivated her to write this film, you will not find answers in this sequel. Everything reeks of an amateurish touch.

Dhillon doesn’t supply some crucial answers. For instance, do Rani and Rishabh each and every time write lines from Dinesh Pandit’s book on their own on the walls? If yes, then it’s shocking that they don’t get caught sooner. We are told that some police officers are assigned the task of keeping an eye on Rani’s movements. Does Mrityunjay Prasad (Jimmy Sheirgill) ever relieve them of this duty? We don’t get a scene that tells us this information, which is why we find it strange that Rani and Rishabh are not caught red-handed when they argue indiscreetly at a market. Also, isn’t it odd that Abhimanyu has a cupboard filled with Pandit Ji’s books, but Rani never inquires about the contents of this locked furniture? How did she live in his house all those days without mentioning the cupboard?

Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba wants you to refrain from asking these questions. It asks you to surrender to its logic, which seems difficult because you are never involved in the story or the characters. Haseen Dillruba could have told you that the color of the sky is pink, and you would have accepted it without raising any objection. But when Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba tells you something, you refuse its words by applying common sense to the events. Desai gives you deadly crocodiles and a horror movie-like background score. Yet, you never find the film as unhinged as the first part. Both movies start like a gentle rom-com before turning towards dark corners. This sequel, however, is never able to make its beats palpable. Mathew’s fantastic direction could be spotted in his use of the actors. He made their expressions so real that you were able to form a direct connection to the characters’ emotions. The sex between Rani and Neel looked like a fervid love affair. When she later made out with Rishabh, you could almost feel the erotic eruption. When Rani jumps on Rishabh in Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba, the kiss doesn’t appear heated. The problem here is that Desai doesn’t properly use his actors. Their expressions allude to something intense without fully developing into something…intense. Whatever they feel for each other, it remains limited to their faces. Nothing explodes in this sequel. Poonam is the only character who radiates some eroticism, but she isn’t allowed to do much. She is completely wasted.

The Haseen Dillruba movies tell us that no man who looks innocent is really innocent. Boys can become monsters for their women. We didn’t need the reminder again through a bland sequel. We also didn’t need constant reminders about Rishabh’s sacrificial hand. Dhillon turns her characters into superhumans. They don’t just defeat crocodiles; they jump from a high peak and emerge without injury or scratches. Dhillon merely pushes her story towards extreme madness and, in the process, creates a convoluted rubbish that is more interested in dispensing shocks. I would have been relieved if Rani and Rishabh had met their makers. I would have been happier if I hadn’t had to listen to all those “Pandit ji kehte hai” dialogues. If Dhillon wanted to portray her characters as brilliant, she failed to do her job. When someone quotes the author, you feel like rolling your eyes or banging your head against a brick wall. Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba wants to be a bad film in a good sense, but it ends up being only terrible. The screen says, “Phir Aayi Hasseen Dillruba.” In the end, you ask, “Par kyun?”