Film Review: Ek Chatur Naar

Introduction

Black comedy has always been the rebellious child of Hindi cinema unruly, sharp, and often misunderstood. Too slippery to tame, too strange to fit neatly into formulas, the genre has frequently been dismissed as niche, when in fact it thrives by holding a cracked mirror to society. At its worst, black comedy collapses into buffoonery; at its best, it becomes a scalpel, carving into hypocrisies while making you laugh at your own unease. Umesh Shukla’s Ek Chatur Naar is very much in the latter camp.

Set in the atmospheric, decaying beauty of Lucknow, Ek Chatur Naar is a carnival of contradictions. It is hilarious and unsettling, buoyant and grim, a satire that teases and torments in equal measure. At its heart is Mamta (Divya Khosla Kumar), a widowed mother saddled with debt, raising her young son while dodging creditors and enduring the eccentric chaos of her alcoholic mother-in-law Radha Rani (Chhaya Kadam). What might have been a straightforward tale of struggle quickly transforms into a game of deceit, manipulation, and moral inversion when a lost smartphone lands in Mamta’s lap, unleashing a chain of events that spiral into controlled chaos.

The premise may sound familiar an ordinary person stumbling upon a dangerous secret but Shukla layers it with the pungent humour of Lucknow’s gullies, the stink of corruption, and the resilience of a woman determined to twist her fate. With echoes of Ghanchakkar (2013) and Blackmail (2018), yet infused with its own flavour, the film marks one of the boldest mainstream black comedies in recent memory.

Screenplay & Script Sense

The film’s greatest strength is its writing. The screenplay, crafted by Siddharth Goel, Jay Master, Deepak Nirman, and Himanshu Tripathi, thrives on precision rather than clutter. Too often, Hindi comedies drown in unnecessary subplots or slapstick detours, but Ek Chatur Naar resists the temptation. The first half plays like a chessboard being carefully set up. Each piece Mamta, Abhishek Verma (Neil Nitin Mukesh), Home Minister Qureishi (Zakir Hussain), Inspector Triloki (Sushant Singh), and the ruthless moneylender Thakur (Yashpal Sharma) is introduced with clarity, their quirks and moral weaknesses sketched in deliberate strokes.

The narrative trigger Abhishek losing his phone in a metro is deceptively simple, but what lies inside the device is a Pandora’s box: a sex tape, a list of bribe givers and takers, and enough dirt to ruin reputations. For Mamta, initially just a woman trying to pay off a crushing ₹20 lakh debt, the phone becomes a weapon.

The film’s humour is earthy, woven into dialogues sprinkled with Lucknowi tehzeeb and local wit. It never feels forced; instead, it grows organically out of desperate situations. The second half tightens into a cat-and-mouse game, each twist plausible yet surprising, avoiding the trap of over-explanation. The finale audacious and logical in retrospect is a masterstroke, reminding us that black comedy works best when it hides its answers in plain sight.

Direction

Umesh Shukla has long been associated with comedies that carry a satirical sting (Oh My God, 102 Not Out). With Ek Chatur Naar, he pushes into darker territory while retaining his flair for irony. His biggest triumph lies in tone. Black comedy is notoriously difficult to balance: lean too far into absurdity and it becomes slapstick; lean too far into cynicism and it loses its humour. Shukla walks the tightrope with skill.

He lets the story breathe, resisting the Bollywood impulse to fill every moment with noise. The pacing is deliberate but not sluggish. Humour arrives in unexpected bursts, puncturing tension without deflating stakes. Importantly, he roots the film in Lucknow the city is not a backdrop but a living character, its decaying havelis, clogged nullahs, and bustling metro shaping the story’s texture.

If there is a flaw, it is in Shukla’s hesitation towards the end. The climactic shift from survival drama to revenge saga feels slightly clumsy, as though the film itself was unsure whether to fully embrace Mamta’s slyness or soften her into earnestness. But even here, Shukla manages to pull off a finale that leaves audiences buzzing, if not entirely satisfied.

Acting

The cast of Ek Chatur Naar is one of its biggest assets.

• Divya Khosla Kumar as Mamta Mishra delivers her career-best performance. She plays a character of contradictions mother and manipulator, victim and schemer. There is a sly sparkle in her eyes as she outsmarts her adversaries, yet an emotional depth in her quieter moments with her son. While her Awadhi accent falters occasionally, her emotional authenticity never does. Watching her transform from cornered prey to cunning predator is the film’s emotional anchor.

• Neil Nitin Mukesh as Abhishek Verma shines in a role tailor-made for his suave yet sinister persona. Abhishek is ambitious, adulterous, and utterly unscrupulous a man dreaming of political power while sinking deeper into moral quicksand. Mukesh plays him with relish, oscillating between arrogance and panic, menace and cowardice. His chemistry with Divya sparks some of the film’s most gripping moments.

• Chhaya Kadam as Radha Rani is an absolute riot. What could have been a one-note comic role becomes a fully fleshed character a drunkard, yes, but also a woman whose eccentricities mask wisdom and tenderness. She brings both laughter and poignancy.

• Zakir Hussain as Qureishi is reliably slippery, his politician’s smile concealing daggers.

• Sushant Singh as Inspector Triloki adds weary gravitas, portraying a cop who has long made peace with corruption.

• Yashpal Sharma as Thakur, the menacing moneylender, embodies menace with relish. His gun-toting gang and cold threats give the story its teeth.

The supporting cast, including Heli Daruwala as Tina and Rajniesh Duggall in a smaller role, round out the ensemble effectively.

Cinematography

Cinematographer Uday Singh crafts a visual palette that mirrors the story’s contradictions. The film eschews glossy visuals in favour of grit and texture. Lucknow is shot with affection and critique narrow lanes, dimly lit rooms, the contrasting modernity of the metro against the decay of the side slums. The camera lingers on faces, letting expressions carry tension. Wide shots of crowded gullies add claustrophobia, while close-ups of Mamta and Abhishek in their battles of wit create intimacy.

The colour scheme leans towards muted tones earthy browns, smoky greys, the occasional burst of bright festival colours grounding the film in realism while hinting at the absurdity lurking beneath.

Music & Background Score

One of the pleasant surprises of Ek Chatur Naar is its restraint in music. Unlike typical Bollywood comedies, there are no forced item numbers or jarring romantic tracks. Instead, the soundtrack, composed by Vayu and Sharan Rawat, is lean and purposeful.

The standout is a haunting leitmotif sung by Kailash Kher, echoing Mamta’s struggles and ambitions. It recurs at crucial moments, tying the narrative together with emotional heft. The title track a reimagined riff on the iconic Padosan number “Ek Chatur Naar” adds a nostalgic layer, though its use sometimes feels more gimmick than necessity.

Background score is used sparingly but effectively, punctuating tension rather than overwhelming it. The silences often speak louder, letting viewers squirm in anticipation.

Editing

At 2 hours and 14 minutes, the film moves briskly without feeling rushed. Editor Sanjay Sankla deserves credit for maintaining a taut rhythm. The first half lays groundwork with deliberate pacing, while the second half tightens into a relentless dance of deceit. The cuts are sharp, avoiding unnecessary digressions.

Where editing falters is in the climax, where a slightly abrupt tonal shift dilutes the impact of the final twist. A smoother transition could have elevated the finale further. Still, the film’s overall rhythm is engaging, keeping audiences hooked throughout.

On the Plus Side

• A rare, well-executed black comedy in mainstream Bollywood.

• Strong writing that balances humour, suspense, and satire.

• Divya Khosla Kumar’s career-best performance.

• Neil Nitin Mukesh relishing a morally corrupt role.

• Chhaya Kadam’s riotous turn as the drunken dadi.

• Lucknow captured with grit and texture.

• Restraint in music, avoiding unnecessary fillers.

• A finale twist that is both surprising and logical.

On the Minus Side

• Divya’s Awadhi accent falters in places.

• Abrupt genre shift in the climax weakens impact.

• Some supporting characters (especially Zakir Hussain’s Qureishi) fall into stereotypes.

• The iconic title track remix feels more like a marketing gimmick.

• Limited theatrical appeal may find stronger footing on OTT.

Final Verdict

Ek Chatur Naar is not disposable entertainment. It is intelligent, daring, and wickedly funny cinema that makes you laugh, squirm, and think often at the same time. Umesh Shukla has crafted a film that balances absurdity with authenticity, allowing the ridiculousness of circumstance to generate humour while never lowering the stakes.

Divya Khosla Kumar astonishes with her most layered performance to date, Neil Nitin Mukesh revels in corruption, and the supporting cast adds texture and wit. While the film occasionally falters in tonal shifts, in underwritten supporting roles it remains a razor-sharp satire on survival, morality, and the compromises ordinary people make in extraordinary situations.

In a year crowded with formulaic entertainers, Ek Chatur Naar dares to be different. It may not break box-office records, but it will certainly earn a place as one of Bollywood’s finest black comedies of recent years.