Poster of Boal Macher Jhol, the first episode of the anthology Adhunik Bangla Hotel
Poster of Boal Macher Jhol, the first episode of the anthology Adhunik Bangla Hotel

Adhunik Bangla Hotel: Spine tickling stories with mouthwatering Bengali cuisine

From timeless classics like The Shining to slashers like A Nightmare on Elm Street, and even spine-chilling series like The Haunting of Hill House, I am unapologetically addicted to horror. You can call me a chilling junkie—it fits like a bloodstained glove.

This Halloween, while hunting for something spooky (especially Asian horror), I stumbled across a Bangla anthology titled Adhunik Bangla Hotel. The poster featured Mosharraf Karim, and I had a flicker of hope—after all, he’s a phenomenal actor who rarely disappoints. Surely, this would be worth the watch, right?

I was wrong.

Packed with clichés, poor makeover, and a disastrous ensemble cast in the first episode, this anthology was more comical than scary. The poorly composed background music only added to the hilarity—unintentionally, of course. Let me break it down for you.

The anthology comprises three stories: Boal Machher Jhol, Khasir Paya, and Haser Salun. The first two? Absolute disasters. Think of bad cinematography, lazy storytelling, and visuals so awkward they would make even die-hard horror fans cringe. And yet, somehow, Mosharraf Karim managed to shine through the mess. His brilliance, however, was not enough to salvage the sinking ship of shattered expectations.

Poster of Khasir Paya, the second episode of the anthology Adhunik Bangla Hotel

Let us talk about Khasir Paya. It had a better cast, but the lighting? Picture an eternal power outage. Even the protagonist’s late-night office scenes looked so dimly lit, you’d wonder how they managed to find their desks, let alone work. Is it too much to ask for some horse sense in the lighting department?

Now, horror relies heavily on good makeup and costumes. But here? A wobbly wig, kaftan-like drapery on dead bodies, and bruises that looked like they were painted during recess made the whole affair unintentionally comedic.

That said, the casting choices were commendable. Talented actors like Mosharraf Karim (with his impeccable method acting), Gazi Rakayet (and his glorious ponytail), and Robena Reza (with her natural flair) gave their all. But even the best actors can’t save a sinking ship if the script is full of holes.

There were a few redeeming moments. The serene visuals of rural Bengal in Boal Machher Jhol—especially when a university professor (Gazi Rakayet) visits his former student (Mosharraf Karim)—felt like a breath of fresh air. It is virtual travel at its finest, with glimpses of Bangladesh’s countryside that could rival postcards.

Poster of Haser Salun, the third episode of the anthology Adhunik Bangla Hotel

In this first episode, in the village where the professor visits his student, the dead start coming back—not just returning, but also leading normal lives with their respective professions and daily activities. The narrator repeats the same story multiple times. The episode could have ended in 20 minutes, but it’s stretched to an entire hour.

The second episode, Khasir Paya, could have been better. The child actor, who was supposedly a supernatural character, performed commendably well. However, the storyline was average and highly predictable. Among all three episodes, I found the camera work in this one to be the best, but poor lighting ruined it all.

The third story, Haser Salun, was the saving grace of the anthology. It leaned more toward a thriller vibe, and I honestly wished it had fully committed to that genre instead of pretending to be horror. The ending was predictable, but Salauddin Lavlu’s brief appearance was like a warm hug. His performance reminded me why good actors can occasionally make the unbearable bearable.

If I were to give this series a star rating, the lone star would go to the acting talents of these brilliant performers who gave their absolute best despite the script’s flaws.

Final verdict: If you are a horror junkie who’s watched classics from every corner of the world, skip this. However, if you are curious about Bangladeshi traditional cuisine, want a glimpse of rural Bengal, or simply need something to chill—go ahead and press play. Just do not say I didn’t warn you.