It was quite a surprise that I could sit through this movie without having to think of all the euphemisms that would convey my disgust and frustrations. That's because for once my attention was held by a movie of this genre. Nothing to rave about, but this psychological thriller is interesting all the same.
A local painter, Rajesh, has a fascination for painting semi-nude women. Now, that would make you think that the Parisians have got competition on their hands. But it's difficult for the guy to remain poised after doing what he does. So, the next thing you know, we have dead females everywhere. All of them being his ex-models.
Rajesh meets his Achilles' Heel in the form of one Sunita. Instead of painting her in the nude, he paints her in traditional Indian attire. Why he does this, is a mystery. Though you may be eager to know the reason, it is a typically corny one that only the Indian filmmakers can think of.
The movie scores where I supposed it to, and the mystery part only serves to reinforce the paisa-vasool feeling. But again, don't expect anything on the lines of Psycho or you are bound to swear off mystery movies.