Chup Revenge of the Artist review: Flounders as both a serial killer thriller and a discussion about film critics

R Balki’s Chup opens with a familiar disclaimer: “No animals were harmed during the making of this film”. As soon as the words flashed on screen, my brain instinctively went “can you say the same about critics?” For context, Chup: Revenge Of An Artist follows a serial killer who goes around exclusively murdering film critics. It’s one hell of an intriguing one-liner. Using a serial killer thriller template, Balki and his co-writers Raja Sen and Rishi Vermani attempt to mount an ode to the movies, explore the turbulent relationship between filmmakers and critics and the sensitivity of artists and the importance of responsible criticism (I think?). Also read: Chup trailer: Sunny Deol tries to find murderer who kills film critics. Watch

We first mean Danny (a sincere yet stilted Dulquer Salmaan) – a Bandra-based florist who talks to himself (a misguided attempt to depict a fractured mind, the sole purpose of which seems to be to spew exposition at us). Danny is, of course, a lover of the movies and a devotee of the ultimate tortured artist – Guru Dutt (easily the film’s most delightful idea). Danny meets up-and-coming entertainment journalist and aspiring film critic Nila (a spunky Shreya Dhanwanthary, forever cursed to play a journalist apparently). Alongside their blossoming romance, elsewhere we see the gruesome murders of critics pile up (one of the film’s very few promising elements is its use of violence and the gory imagination with which the murders take place). Aside from his choice of victim, the killer also leaves his calling card – carving star ratings on his victims’ foreheads (of course the first murder victim closely resembles a popular Bollywood critic). Enter Inspector Arvind Mathur (a well-cast Sunny Deol), a self-serious investigator here to take down the killer before it’s too late.

As with most R Balki films, Chup offers a great premise and plays with fascinating elements. But once again his edgy ideas are fleshed out into a poor narrative (Ki And Ka, Shamitabh). The problem with Chup isn’t its violent takedown of critics, its odd messaging or that its understanding of film criticism is juvenile and reductive. The issue is that it’s a plain terrible movie. (Yes I know ha-ha, very funny – a negative review of a movie about negative reviews). Chup is a well-intentioned film born out of a love of the movie, but it’s almost impossible to appreciate and engage with its intent and heart because of how diluted, shallow, unsubtle and frequently hilarious-for all-the-wrong-reasons it is.

For one, the impressively watered down dialogue makes Brahmastra’s feel like pure poetry in comparison. The police forcefit words like “critic” and “five stars” and “review” into every conceivable conversation. At one point someone in this movie says “what time does Nature’s Basket close?” I can’t quite explain why, but I couldn’t stop laughing. Chup also attempts to take a balanced view on critics and is oddly all the worse for it. Instead of owning and leaning into its killer-on-a-violent-rampage-against-critics idea, the film keeps dialling it back to lecture us about credibility and how not all critics are bad. The result is strange, uneven messaging that can only be described as “critics are bad but not all critics but some are but they dont deserve to die but they should be more careful but they should be honest but some are honest”. Or something.

On the love story front, until the shaky plot kicks in, Shreya and Dulquer have a gentle, pleasant chemistry. (It’s also the first movie I’ve watched which is mostly shot in and around Bandra which adds its own charm). There are few actors as endearing and likeable as Dulquer Salmaan but earnestness and casting against type alone, can only take you so far. Between the surface level writing and Dulquer’s unconvincing unhinged-ness, Danny fails to live up to the bare basics of what a serial killer should be – just plain creepy. There’s a scene that closes the first half which sees him kill one of his victims by slashing a specific artistic design into their body. In how it’s shot and performed, it’s a rare shining moment of gloriously unsettling violence in an otherwise benign serial killer flick.

As Nila, Shreya Dhanwanthary has an inherent charm and naturalness, but that doesn’t help considering she’s playing an impressively annoying character. There’s a painfully screechy scene in the second half where she becomes instantly hysterical and scared (because the plot needs her to be). The entire sequence serves as pure unintentional comedy and I truly felt bad for her. Instead, it’s Sunny Deol as Inspector Arvind Mathur who emerges relatively unscathed. Aside from the palpable presence he brings to a calculating cop character, his permanently perplexed look feels oddly self aware. As if he knows how baffling the movie he’s inhabiting really is.

Did I mention the convoluted way in which Danny chooses his victims? He doesn’t just go for the critics whos reviews he disagrees with, he intentionally aims for those that use the most murder-friendly metaphors. (I’m serious). So, if a reviewer says a film gave them a “head splitting headache” it’s a perfect opportunity for Danny to ..split their heads open. It also speaks volumes that all of Danny’s victims are men. There’s barely a female critic in sight. It’s the movie’s way of refusing to commit to its own ideas. As if showing a woman being horrifically murdered would be too real.

Thankfully Chup kept me laughing, so I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it. Perhaps the best moment (and one of the funniest sequences of any movie this year) is to see Danny throw one of his victims from one building to another like a blow up doll. Or maybe it was when the police try to write a fake review to lay a trap for Danny. Did they discuss and pitch different murder-y metaphors? I imagined a junior police constable excitedly shouting “what if we said: leave your brains at home!”