Murdaa Ghar (2000)

A dark stormy night, the kind that starts all Bollywood horror films, is in full swing. An artist inside is struggling for inspiration to paint his masterpiece and having a moronic servant prattling on doesn’t help him gather his concentration. There is a rap on the door, and in gingerly steps a drenched young woman who has been stranded in the storm and has no place for shelter. (shades of House No.13?).

The artist, checking her out, asks if he could have her pose for his painting, but moments later, his eyes start playing tricks on him and on closer inspection, she doesn’t appear anything as gorgeous as she did when she first appeared. The killer shock that is supposed to end this opening scene sadly fails to make much of an impact as the startling transformation that occurs is that she puts on a dime-store rubber mask!

Next, we are shown that a family are about to return to their old ancestral home back in the village. It doesn’t take much time for a romance to blossom between a feisty village belle and the family’s young stud, and they share a fine disco dance or two during their delightful courtship. Then we have an unbearable Jagdeep clone as a minion (hard to imagine a more nightmarish thought) attempting to induce the chuckles of the front-bench crowd and failing miserably as well as a god-awful antakshri to suffer.

Finally, strange things begin to occur, like the family lawnmower starts baying like a wolf and scurrying about the place with a life of its own before ingeniously lassoing the eldest brother to an early demise! A white sari-clad mystery beauty strolls around in the mist singing a melancholy lament. It’s an astonishingly inept scene, and one must admire the filmmakers for having the gall to show such a piece of crap to paying audiences.

Later in proceedings, Shakti Kapoor, the only recognisable name in the cast, makes a telling appearance and provides the reason for all the vengeful mayhem that the family Haveli has seemingly evoked upon itself.

Finally, there is the usual showdown involving a Trishul-wielding Tantrik with a pair of shapely breasts spouting all sorts of fantastic mumbo jumbo pitted against the vengeful spirit hell-bent on unleashing the most diabolical mayhem imaginable – for example, her set of rubber fangs bought at the local joke shop or her goon’s rubber mask or perhaps her booming laughter.

This putrid film is yet another example of why Bollywood horror all but died out during the ’90s. It is a lamentably awful film with no redeeming qualities at all. Everything about the film is hopelessly inept – it’s difficult to credit it with anything more than a glorified home movie. The acting is deplorable, and the scenes of supposed horror are only scary in how inept and uselessly constructed they are. Murda Ghar is a dreadfully uninspired piece of garbage – failing at every level as a remotely compelling horror film. Mercifully, it’s a concise film, even if it may not seem that way while watching it.