Of marriages, murders and irreversibility

Bingo! The Factory can smile! My Wife's Murder is, simply put, a worthier effort (also considering it's much lower profile compared to even the next-to-be-released James; and also for being an honest unpretentious effort) compared to the other efforts from the factory in recent times.
Thankfully and as expected, this movie is not a yet-another-whodunnit. In fact, almost everybody in the movie knows who did it. The obviousness with which the policemen track the criminal behind the murder is what I would say as the singularly striking and applaudable aspect of the movie.
Ravi Patwardhan (played with remarkable understanding and restraint by Anil Kapoor) has been nagged by his wife (Suchitra Krisnamoorthy) ever since he got married to her and after so many years he feels their marriage has not worked out. In one of those unpleasant fights, his wife dies accidentally when he slaps her in a fit of rage.
From then on, his attempts (with able support from his assistant who in an act of utter "bewakoofi" tries to save him) to cover up the murder is rivetingly told by the Jijy Philip, the director, without diluting the credibility of the proceedings (like not allowing the protagonist to be "smart" matching his wits with the cops). Some of Ravi's moves might appear stupid when looked at as a mere game of escaping from the cops (as any other lesser movie will turn out to be). The murderer-by-accident's helplessness and loss of logical reasoning is portrayed as real as it gets. For eg., the way Ravi carefully repositioning the carpet and the draw over it in his bedroom after he uses it to cover up the blood temporarily (who is going to question him on the position of the carpet, anyway?). His deadpan expressions (in an attempt to not show his fear, he does reveal thye truth that he is less upset about the loss of his wife) each time the police investigates him about his wife's death is so apt and yet so convincing that he has to be the murderer, suggesting that tracking the murderer is quite easy, after all, in domestic circumstances. And at the end, all Ravi Patwardhan does, when he hears the first gunshot from the cops is to cry back in agony - "Arreyy.. Yahaan pe bachhe hain.. Dikhaayee nahin deta hai kya?".
The way the undercurrents in the other "marital" relationships in the movie are touched upon is also commendable. Boman Irani is terrific, as always, and walks away with honours for the best performance. All the other performances are first-rate (a usual, for a factory venture). From the technical side, the cinematography by P. S. Vinod is stark, realistic and also renders the necessary claustrophobic environment in the first half of the movie.
Indeed, My Wife's Murder is a small film, but still a rare effort and first of its kind in Bollywood. Don't even read further. Go watch My Wife's Murder before it vanishes out of the theatres.
P.S.:- Add to this my egoistic bliss for having pinned my hopes on an underdog from RGV stable and having a very satisfying experience. A factory product is always awaited by me, but not always with the same inexplicable eagerness I had for this movie.