Actor-director Rajat Kapoor’s recent outing, Everybody Loves Sohrab Handa, now streaming on ZEE5, is a chamber-bound murder mystery that rather than adhering to the mechanical pleasures of the genre, seems intent on peeling the veneer of civility and social composure to expose something murkier underneath.
Raman (Neil Bhoopalam) and Jayanti (Palomi Ghosh), accompanied by their psychiatrist friend, Chandra (Rajat Kapoor), mark a decade of marriage by hosting an intimate getaway in a secluded mansion, far removed from the din of their everyday lives. Close friends and associates gather to celebrate, though the air is less easy than it first appears. Among the invitees is Raman’s business associate, Sohrab Handa (Vinay Pathak), who arrives with his aging father (MK Raina), his wife Isha (Koel Purie), and his younger brother Arun (Chandrachoor Rai), along with a house help. Also present are Sohrab’s brother, Sandeep (Sharat Katariya), and his wife, Suman (Sadiya Siddiqui), a college professor, Madhavan (Ranvir Shorey) with his much younger partner, Nazia (Kankana Chakraborty), and a television journalist couple, Sandeep (Danish Hussain) and Naina (Waluscha De Sousa). As the day unfolds, it becomes evident that Sohrab’s harsh and needling presence unsettles the carefully maintained social balance. It exposes fissures that polite conversation can no longer contain. By the time Handa is found dead, the rupture feels almost preordained.
The narrative begins with a conventional introduction to its characters. But what starts as a convivial gathering gradually curdles into discomfort, as strained exchanges reveal a dense web of grievances simmering beneath the surface of camaraderie. Sohrab Handa, with a disarming lack of restraint, says exactly what is on his mind, often to the discomfort of those around him, and is fully aware of this tendency. Madhavan offers a more philosophical, if faintly disillusioned, perspective, arguing that society itself has grown morally bankrupt. This stands in contrast to Sandeep’s more pragmatic, market-driven view of journalism, one that caters to what the public demands. Amid this quiet clash of worldviews, Handa cuts through with blunt irreverence, dismissing philosophy as little more than idle jabbering. It is this very abrasiveness that renders him deeply unlikable, a bully in the way he treats both friends and family. And yet, the film complicates this easy moral judgment. As Chandra suggests to Raman, there is something vulnerable about Handa, a suggestion that lingers uneasily beneath his outward coarseness. These contrarian undercurrents lend the drama a sharper psychological edge, nudging it beyond the mechanics of genre into something more probing and ambivalent.
Even after the arrival of Sub-Inspector Qureshi (Saurabh Shukla) and his subordinate, which formally sets the investigation in motion, it becomes increasingly clear that the inquiry had, in effect, begun long before the crime itself. What initially appears to be a familiar exercise in suspicion and revelation gradually assumes a more psychological preoccupation. It becomes less concerned with who committed the murder than with what compels someone to do so in the first place. What emerges, then, is not merely a question of culpability, but a slow unravelling of a social ecosystem in which almost everyone harbours a reason, however buried, to wish Handa gone. Through a series of flashbacks, these motives are gradually brought to the surface, each recollection adding a layer of tension and complicating our understanding of both victim and suspect. Then, there are the quieter, more revealing moments that momentarily soften the film’s caustic edges. These bits, understated yet pointed, add texture to the narrative, widening its emotional register and hinting at the invisible hierarchies and private wounds that coexist alongside the more overt tensions.
Rajat Kapoor, also a prominent theatre practitioner, brings that sensibility to bear in the way he directs his ensemble. Vinay Pathak, as Sohrab Handa, leans fully into the character’s abrasive candour, earning our irritation even as he commands attention with a certain unsettling conviction. Neil Bhoopalam imbibes Raman with an outward calm that barely conceals anxieties tied to reputation and business, while Ranvir Shorey lends Madhavan a philosophical weariness, a man who gestures towards optimism even as he suspects that decline is inevitable. Danish Hussain, as the journalist, embodies a more transactional worldview, shaped by the demands of selling what the public is willing to consume. Together, they sketch a spectrum of male apprehensiveness, each refracting a different response to a shared moral misgiving.
Among the women, Palomi Ghosh, Waluscha De Sousa, Sadiya Siddiqui, and Koel Purie bring a distinct presence to their roles, their performances registering in glances, hesitations, and withheld reactions rather than overt declaration. Kapoor himself, appearing as a psychiatrist who gradually assumes the role of an observer within the unfolding investigation, maintains a watchful presence.
The cinematography by Rafey Mahmood captures the intimacy of the interiors and the unease that lingers between characters through a measured use of compositional confinement. Suresh Pai’s editing maintains a steady rhythm, drawing us into the drama while allowing the back-and-forth movement between timelines to unfold smoothly. The sound design by Resul Pookutty heightens the atmosphere, with careful modulation of ambient sound and dialogue. Meenal Agarwal’s production design, meanwhile, grounds the film in a lived-in minimalism, with the mansion becoming more than just a backdrop.
Everybody Loves Sohrab Handa becomes another addition to Rajat Kapoor’s body of work as a filmmaker committed to probing the complexities of human behaviour within intimate social spaces. In doing so, it lingers less as a conventional mystery and more as a quietly unsettling and effective moral inquiry.
Hindi, Thriller, Drama, Color