Guest House (1980)

A run-down guest house in the middle of nowhere attracts fewer and fewer clients and is consequently threatened with closure. The lazy owner and his equally unscrupulous associates decide upon desperate measures. One of the few guests still frequenting the establishment, a wealthy and rather rotund fellow with a curious beard named Chris-TOE-pher, is promptly murdered for his riches.

Having relieved Christopher of both his life and his valuables, the owners bury the corpse and get on with business. Ironically, trade begins to improve shortly thereafter as a succession of highly questionable travellers start arriving at the establishment, including Narendranath and wife, who appear every bit as deranged as the rest of the clientele.

The Ramsays proceed to pile on enormous quantities of comedy, cheap double entendres and several horribly choreographed song-and-dance sequences set to Bappi Lahiri’s toe-tapping tunes while the plot meanders about aimlessly for what feels like an eternity before finally getting down to business.

Eventually the criminal partners begin falling out as financial troubles once again rear their ugly head. Seasoned second-string villain Sujit Kumar finds himself in a fix after losing rather too much money gambling and decides the solution lies buried alongside poor Christopher. Returning to the grave, he digs up the corpse in order to retrieve a flashy diamond ring that had been buried with its owner.

Unfortunately for him, recovering the ring requires removing Christopher’s hand.

Little does Sujit realise that by chopping off the limb and stealing the ring he is about to unleash a most hideous vengeance upon anyone unfortunate enough to come into contact with either.

After what seems like several geological ages of dumb comedy and insipid romance involving Ramsay regular Vijayendra Ghatge, the severed hand finally begins making its presence felt by terrorising the inhabitants of the guest house.

Just when one thinks the sight of a filthy, rotting hand stalking people around the premises represents the full extent of the horror, matters escalate considerably.

Christopher himself rises from the grave.

Now the undead owner of the severed limb begins prowling about in search of both his missing hand and his stolen loot.

This was one of the Ramsays’ earlier efforts and, although the scenes involving the murderous hand are generally well staged and reasonably entertaining, the endless comedy diversions and frivolous romantic interludes slow the film to an almost terminal pace.

The result is a horribly uneven production containing only a bare minimum of horror and an overwhelming surplus of comedy. Much of the film plods along in a thoroughly unexciting fashion and it certainly does not rank amongst the finer moments of the Ramsay catalogue.

The cast is populated largely by the usual assortment of Z-grade performers, though Premnath as Christopher evidently made certain he received special appearance billing, perhaps in an effort to distance himself from the proceedings should matters go badly wrong.

Perhaps the film’s greatest saving grace, apart from the spectacularly classy severed hand itself, is the wonderfully Bond-like theme song:

“We Meet Again… in the Guest House… Guest House, Guest House…”

One thing you can always count on is Bappi Lahiri’s commitment to quality.

The film itself may stumble repeatedly, but the severed hand and the music score at least ensure that Guest House never quite disappears into the same grave as poor old Chris-TOE-pher.