Khooni Ilaaka (1999)

The few unfortunate souls who ventured into this film expecting something bold and daring would not have come away disappointed. The film is certainly bold in the sense that it plunges to entirely new depths of cinematic incompetence and is genuinely astonishing in its atrociousness, even by the notoriously forgiving standards of Bollywood horror.

For devotees of z-grade horror, it may be time to invent an entirely new classification system.

“Z-grade” simply isn’t enough anymore.

The plot (excuse me while I fall off my chair in a fit of giggles) goes something like this.

The film opens with a solemn voice-over of the sort usually reserved for Bhagwan himself, informing us that the story is not intended to challenge anybody’s beliefs and bears no resemblance to any person living or dead. A highly serious and dignified introduction which immediately prepares the audience for the nonsense that follows.

A husband and wife receive an urgent message from relatives in another town and set off by car to investigate. Along the way they arrive at a dark forested region ominously known as the Khooni Ilaaka. Helpful locals advise them not to enter the area, particularly after dark.

Naturally they ignore the warning.

Almost immediately their car breaks down in the middle of the forbidden zone and a ferocious storm erupts. Lightning flashes, thunder crashes and the trusty BBC Horror Sound Effects tape is once again pressed into active service.

The husband wanders off into the forest for reasons known only to himself.

Moments later he is attacked by trees.

Not falling branches.

Not possessed roots.

Trees.

The foliage lifts him into the air and proceeds to strangle him with its branches before leaving him dangling from a couple of twigs in one of the most remarkable death scenes ever committed to celluloid.

Meanwhile his wife is attacked by a figure bearing more than a passing resemblance to Ghostface from Scream.

Shortly afterwards another young couple arrive and, in keeping with tradition, their vehicle also breaks down in the middle of the dreaded Khooni Ilaaka. The male half of the duo decides he will not leave until he uncovers the mystery behind the cursed region.

This proves to be a poor decision.

The pair encounter a resident Tantrik who appears to be the area’s sole surviving inhabitant. He warns them that dark secrets are best left undiscovered and explains that he has spent the last twenty years waiting for a suitably powerful Tantrik to wander by and rid the place of its demonic infestation.

A lengthy flashback reveals the source of the problem.

Many years earlier an evil Tantrik used his supernatural powers primarily to molest women who came seeking blessings and assistance. When the local Maharaja finally discovers his activities, he responds in a refreshingly direct manner by having the fellow’s arms and legs chopped off before burying him alive.

Even as he is being dismembered the evil Tantrik swears revenge and reminds everyone that a Tantrik’s powers are not limited by such trivial inconveniences as death.

Thereafter he curses the entire region and returns from beyond the grave accompanied by two equally unpleasant spirit friends. Together they terrorise the population until everyone flees, transforming the area into the dreaded Khooni Ilaaka.

The remainder of the film consists largely of unsuspecting couples wandering into the area so that the trio of spirits can dispatch them in increasingly ridiculous ways.

To be fair, there are one or two death scenes that are genuinely memorable.

At one point the murderous branches are revealed to possess human hands attached to them — specifically the severed hands of the evil Tantrik. In another sequence these disembodied hands emerge from the darkness to attack an unsuspecting victim.

The effects are beyond description.

There are also numerous songs and dance routines which bring proceedings to a grinding halt. Just as the audience begins contemplating the off switch, the murderous spirits reappear to restore some semblance of momentum.

The make-up effects deserve special mention.

The most fearsome of the three evil spirits is a portly blonde gentleman sporting a rubber tongue approximately four inches long. It is admittedly a magnificent tongue, yet despite its prominence he never actually uses it for anything. Instead he prefers to dispatch victims by jostling them aggressively or twisting their necks.

Nevertheless, the camera remains utterly fascinated by the tongue and ensures that it appears in virtually every scene.

The climax arrives abruptly.

A virginal beauty pleads desperately to Bhagwan to protect both herself and her beloved. A few thunderclaps later and several shots of the deity from increasingly dramatic camera angles, a rotund saffron-clad Tantrik suddenly emerges from behind the statue while angelic voices swell triumphantly on the soundtrack.

Cometh the hour, cometh the man.

The heroic Tantrik proceeds to confront the three evil spirits in a battle for the ages. In the film’s most suspenseful moment he is attacked by a pair of severed arms but displays remarkable footwork, sidestepping the assault before crushing the offending limbs beneath his sandals.

Humanity is saved.

The world can breathe again.

Surely even Bollywood horror cannot sink much lower than this astonishing piece of tripe.

Then again, experience suggests otherwise.

For masochists only.