Baby Do Die Do Review: Huma Qureshi’s Film Doesn’t Do Enough

Baby Do Die Do struggles to find its footing as it moves from one contrived twist to another, observes Mayur Sanap.

There’s a moment in Baby Do Die Do where a goon looks at Huma Qureshi’s character and casually calls her a hitman. Another one quickly corrects him: ‘Hitwoman’.

They laugh at their own joke. But she simply stands there before pulling the trigger. A bullet is the only way she can hit back because, unlike them, she cannot fight with words. She is deaf and mute.

This physical trait adds an interesting dimension to Baby Karmarkar, the assassin Huma Qureshi plays. Her Marathi surname doubles as a clever nod to the film’s title, with Kar-Mar-Kar echoing the rhythm of Do-Die-Do.

It’s a fun idea. But sadly, the film doesn’t do much with it.

Once the plot kicks in, you realise beyond the catchy title and the stylish packaging, there just isn’t much to the film that can hold it all together.

The Plot

Huma’s Baby is a contract killer who works for her handler, whom she calls Papa (Chunky Pandey). Baby is trained to use a peculiar red umbrella that doubles up as her weapon.

At home, her cranky single mother (Mangala Kenkre) thinks she works as an ordinary property dealer and never misses a chance to diss her.

Baby comes across as unusually calm and detached, but her demeanour is shaped by a childhood incident that changed her life.

Her lifelong mission becomes to find a person who was responsible for it.

Where It Falters

The film starts with an interesting idea, but the writing doesn’t take it very far. Director Nachiket Samant, who has also co-written the screenplay with Gaurav Sharma, aims for a pacy, pulpy thriller but never quite builds that quality the premise needed. The film is neither a pulpy thriller nor a zippy dark comedy, which takes away from the fun it could have had in its two-hour runtime.

The ease of murder here is almost amusing.

Baby is not some femme fatale, but an ordinary woman who moves through the city in the rain, in local trains, blending into the crowd. She enters a building, and walks down a corridor without drawing attention.

She reaches her target, acts quickly, and leaves the spot almost miraculously. The film tries to make it all look edgy, but it comes off unintentionally funny, given how effortlessly she operates.

The biggest issue is predictability. If you have watched Bollywood revenge dramas, you will likely see the major twist coming well in advance. There are no real surprises waiting at the end.

The action set piece, especially in the climax, doesn’t fully deliver either. It tries to build tension without going overboard with gory details, but the payoff is rather underwhelming because the staging feels so off.

Huma Qureshi’s Performance

Huma Qureshi stays committed to the role, but the script doesn’t give her enough to play around the role. As a result, her performance feels rather one-note.

Rachit Singh plays her partner Siddhu, who calls himself ‘gharelu‘ and ‘non-toxic’. It sounds progressive on paper, but the writing reduces him to a cute guy-in-love trope that makes him more annoying than lovable.

Chunky Pandey, as the supari killer, steps away from his usual comic image, and he does it comfortably. Sikander Kher, as shady businessman Zafar, continues in a familiar stoic space that now feels repetitive. Himanshu Malik and Vidya Malwade’s track briefly promises some playfulness, but it disappears too soon.

Seema Pahwa does a Radhika Apte from Monica, O My Darling, but without the same zest.

Where the film does work is in its look and atmosphere. The Sin City-esque skyline and rain-soaked streets give Mumbai a stylish noir look. There is a clear visual ambition here, and debut cinematographer Tojo Xavier brings out a very unique visual representation of the city.

But there’s very little of this visual flair that could elevate the drama on screen, since Baby Do Die Do struggles to find its footing as it moves from one contrived twist to another.

For a film with two ‘Dos’ in the title, it is ironic how often it seems unsure of what to do next.