Cast : Tapsee Pannu, Harshvardhan Rane, Vikrant Massey

THE MEAT AND POTATOES

Haseen Dilruba has tired and delineated tracks, like terrible Bollywood compilations of the ’90s. There’s one for humor, one for whodunit, one where Rani is unhappiness, one where Rishu is incensed, one where Rani has a fling, one where Rishu aspires to slaying her, and on and on.

Every track is complemented by a background score that tells us how to feel. Sometimes, the music kicks in before the actors can emote; sometimes it overcomes their passions. And when the background score is insufficient, we get one song after the other explaining the already clarified. It’s also inept of previous philosophy, stuck in the quagmire of typecasts.

Take, for instance, Neel (Harshvardhan Rane), Rishu’s cousin, who seduces Rani. It is not sufficient that he’s different from her husband, he must be a diametrically opposite conception: He has long locks, tattoos, a French beard; smokes a joint, lifts weights, flirts. Even the subplot focused on Rani and the scrutinizing cop is brimming with red herrings (“women like these are so cunning”) and compelled absurdity, for when Rani is informing her story, the cops line up near the door like submissive spectators.