‘Charlie Chopra & The Mystery of Solang Valley’ series review: An elementary whodunit

Vishal Bhardwaj and Wamiqa Gabbi attempt to set up a homegrown female detective franchise adapted from Agatha Christie’s works; except, they have ‘Fleabag’ on their mind

Embarking on his first Agatha Christie adaptation, director Vishal Bhardwaj has skipped the usual suspects — and detectives — and settled on The Sittaford Mystery, a shivery, snowbound story from 1931. The book’s one-off heroine, the nippy and likable Miss Emily Trefusis, presented a ripe opportunity for Bhardwaj and lead actor Wamiqa Gabbi. Unburdened by the cultural ubiquity of a Poirot or a Miss Marple, they could take the character anywhere they pleased; even make her a foulmouthed Punjabi girl in a beanie who frequently addresses the screen. And yet, this need for eccentric invention becomes a roadblock for Charlie Chopra & The Mystery of Solang Valley.

Before we meet Charlie, we’re introduced to some of her suspects. On a stormy evening evocatively shot by cinematographer Tassaduq Hussain, several people huddle inside a cottage, watching a séance. A spirit named ‘Lady Rose’ is apparently summoned; she, in turn, indicates the death of one Brigadier Rawat (Gulshan Grover). Though the guests seem to brush it off, one twitchy character decides to trudge down to Manali — several kilometers away — and check on his old friend. His instincts prove right: the moneyed brigadier is found slain in his home. The cops hastily arrest Jimmy, the ex-armyman’s nephew who had visited him earlier in the day, the improbability of Vivaan Shah playing a cold-blooded murderer clearly lost on the Manali force.

Also Read | ‘If I am not a leftist, I am not an artist’: Vishal Bhardwaj

Particularly convinced of Jimmy’s innocence is his fiancée, Charulata aka Charlie. She is an amateur sleuth (in a sweet detail, it was her mother, Patiala’s fearsome Dolly Chopra, who was the professional). Arriving posthaste in Manali, Charlie unearths a web of secrets and lies, motives and money problems. Turns out, mustachioed Rawat was leaving behind a large estate and everyone, including his closest relatives, wanted a piece. Kenneth Branagh with his recent Poirot films has revived interest in the all-star Christie adaptation. Bhardwaj takes a different, slightly arthouse route to this trend: in addition to the entire Shah family — Vivaan, Naseer, Ratna Pathak, Imaad, Heeba — we get Lara Dutta as one of Rawat’s secretive tenants, and Priyanshu Painyuli as a streetsmart reporter who teams up with Charlie.

Wamiqa Gabbi is one of the most exciting actors working in current Hindi cinema. She’s got wit and charm — and a prettiness that is not standard-issue Bollywood. She was striking in Jubilee, playing an actress in the 1940s and 50s, but also sweetly memorable in the Vishal Bhardwaj segment in Modern Love: Mumbai. The actor and director have forged a thrilling creative partnership — they have Khufiya coming up next week — and while Charlie may not be the most compelling protagonist on paper, Gabbi peeps and probes with flair and self-possession. There is, however, one fatal snag.

Now and then, Charlie trains her hazel-brown eyes on the camera and talks directly to the audience. It is a blatant steal of Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s inspired fourth-wall-breaking in the two seasons of Fleabag. Here, it’s not so inventive, Charlie’s remarks neither cutting nor revealing in a special, privileging way. They work as an occasional exclamation mark — “What even...?!”, Gabbi blinks on multiple occasions — but mostly register as a gimmick. Also, what’s the point of getting inside a detective’s head when the fun lies in staying on the outside, observing and trying to work out their every move?

Bhardwaj and his co-writers draw out the suspense with a series of reveals and red herrings. Episodes flit from character to character; the process of elimination — once we latch on to it — leaves out only a handful of suspects to charge. It is a rather standard, elementary way of designing a whodunit. As in his Shakespeare films, though, Bhardwaj finds interesting ways to Indianise the material. Charlie’s introductory scene is at a brash Punjabi wedding, where she gamely tracks down the groom’s stolen shoes (notice the motif of implicating footwear). A sub-plot resolves itself through knowledge of the 1966 thriller Teesri Manzil. Elsewhere, a reference to Hindustani classical music is followed, funnily and inevitably, with a death by tabla.