Maharathi

Based on Paresh Rawal8217;s play of the same name, Maharathi presents a howdunnit: there8217;s a body in the deep freeze, and we all know the manner in which it ended up there, but the cops don8217;t.

Alcoholic film producer Naseer puts a gun to his head, much to the consternation of his gold-digger of a wife Neha. Driver-cum-general dogsbody Paresh is present when the bullet finds a head, and the plush Persian carpet turns into a pool of blood. The body is stashed in an old-fashioned large deep freeze, with the intention of claiming crores from a couple of sources 8212; a will, or a huge insurance policy, depending on whether it is deemed a suicide or a murder.

Nair8217;s second directorial venture, after his romantic Ahista Ahista, is a completely different film, reminding you of the classic closed-door murder mysteries of yore: the bungalow Naseer lives in is marked by expensive decay, the wife is appropriately attired in very few clothes, and Paresh appears to be alternately grasping and caring.

It8217;s a wonderful cast, and they all do their job well, but what8217;s missing from Maharathi is that crucial sense of danger. The film unspools minus ominous overtones: crimes of passion need edge, and Maharathi doesn8217;t have any.

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