Why the Antilia in Mumbai is the Most Ugly House in the World to Many Critics

Why the Antilia in Mumbai is the Most Ugly House in the World to Many Critics

Beauty is subjective. We’ve all heard that a thousand times. But when you look at a $2 billion skyscraper that looks like a stack of mismatched books about to topple over in a breeze, the conversation gets a bit more complicated. Architecture isn't just about sheltering people anymore. It’s a statement. And for many, the Antilia building in Mumbai represents the loudest, most confusing statement ever built. It is frequently cited as the most ugly house in the world, not because it’s falling apart or covered in grime, but because it is a jarring, asymmetrical behemoth that defies every traditional rule of aesthetic harmony.

Mukesh Ambani, the billionaire chairman of Reliance Industries, didn't want a mansion. He wanted a 27-story vertical palace. Designed by Chicago-based architects Perkins and Will, the structure stands 570 feet tall. That’s enough space for 60 floors, but they opted for double-height ceilings. It’s massive. It’s expensive. Yet, to the average passerby or the seasoned architecture critic, it often looks like a series of disjointed boxes shoved together by a giant child.

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Why do people hate how it looks? It’s the lack of repetition. Humans generally like patterns. We like symmetry. Antilia throws all of that out the window. No two floors are alike. Literally. The materials change, the shapes shift, and the "waist" of the building narrows before bulging out again at the top.

Some call it "post-modernist brilliance." Others call it an eyesore.

Honestly, the sheer scale of the building in the middle of Mumbai is what makes the visual impact so polarizing. You have this towering structure with six floors of parking—yes, six—and three helipads, situated in a city where space is the ultimate luxury. The contrast is violent. It’s not just about the windows or the steel; it’s about how the building interacts with the skyline. Or rather, how it refuses to.

The "Cardboard Box" Aesthetic

There is a specific grievance critics have with the mid-section of the house. From certain angles, the cantilevered floors look like open drawers. This isn't an accident. The designers wanted to maximize the view of the Arabian Sea. But in doing so, they created a silhouette that feels unstable.

Architecture critic Rowan Moore once famously described the building as a "collection of bits." He wasn't being kind. When you look at the most ugly house in the world, you’re looking at a structure that lacks a cohesive "skin." Most skyscrapers have a unified facade. Antilia has gardens sticking out of its side, exposed steel beams, and glass walls that seem to belong to five different buildings.

It’s messy.

But it’s also a feat of engineering. The building can withstand an 8-magnitude earthquake. So, while it might look like it’s going to tip over, it’s actually one of the safest places on the planet. This creates a weird cognitive dissonance. You see something that looks "wrong" to the eye, but you know it’s technically "perfect" in its construction.

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Why "Ugly" is Often a Protest Against Inequality

We have to be real about why Antilia gets the title of the most ugly house in the world so often. It’s rarely just about the architecture. Aesthetics are tied to ethics.

When a single family builds a 400,000-square-foot home in a city where millions live in slums, the building becomes a lightning rod for criticism. Is it ugly because of the jagged edges, or is it ugly because of what it represents? For many Mumbaikars and international observers, the visual "loudness" of the house feels like a flex that went too far.

Author Arundhati Roy has been vocal about this. She suggested that the building is a way for the elite to literally rise above the problems of the country. When you’re on the 27th floor looking at the ocean, you don't see the traffic or the poverty below. This "insularity" is baked into the design. The house doesn't try to blend in with the neighborhood. It screams for attention while simultaneously pulling up the drawbridge.

The Myth of the "Incomplete" House

For a while, there was a rumor that the Ambanis wouldn't even move in. People said the Vastu Shastra—the traditional Indian system of architecture—wasn't followed correctly. They claimed the "ugly" design led to bad energy.

This turned out to be mostly gossip. The family moved in around 2012. But the fact that people were so quick to believe the house was "cursed" or "unlivable" shows how much the public struggled to accept its appearance. If it were a beautiful, sleek glass tower like something you’d see in Dubai or New York, would people have been so critical? Maybe not. But because it’s quirky, jagged, and strange, it was easy to cast it as a failure.


Breaking Down the Interior (Or Why the Outside Doesn't Match)

If the outside is a chaotic stack of boxes, the inside is a fever dream of luxury.

  • The Snow Room: Mumbai is hot. It’s humid. So, the Ambanis built a room that spits out man-made snowflakes to keep them cool.
  • The Hanging Gardens: These aren't just pots on a balcony. They are multi-story vertical gardens meant to act as a carbon sink and cool the building naturally.
  • The Theater: A private 50-seat cinema. Because why go to the movies when you can bring the movies to your 20th floor?

The interior design is reportedly based on themes of the sun and the lotus. Rare woods, marble, mother-of-pearl—it’s all there. But here’s the kicker: because the outside is so fragmented, the inside feels like a series of separate worlds rather than a home.

Is it the most ugly house in the world if the inside is stunning? That’s the $2 billion question.

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Most people will never see the inside. They only see the exterior. And the exterior is a jagged silhouette against the sunset. It’s a building that refuses to be ignored, and in the world of architecture, being "ugly" is sometimes better than being boring.

Other Contenders for the Title

Antilia isn't the only building that people love to hate. If we look globally, there are a few other structures that regularly compete for the crown of architectural disaster.

  1. The Chang Building (Elephant Building) in Bangkok: It’s shaped like an elephant. Literally. It has eyes and tusks. While it’s iconic, many find the literal interpretation of an animal in a massive office building to be kitschy and dated.
  2. The Žižkov Television Tower in Prague: It’s famous for the giant crawling babies (sculptures by David Černý) that appear to be climbing up the sides. Without the babies, it’s a gray, industrial spike. With them, it’s a nightmare-inducing pillar.
  3. The Longaberger Basket Building in Ohio: It’s a giant basket. It was the headquarters for a basket company. It’s the definition of "novelty architecture," which almost always ends up on "ugliest" lists once the novelty wears off.

Compared to these, Antilia is unique because it isn't trying to be an object. It isn't a basket or an elephant. It’s just... a shape. A very, very expensive, confusing shape.


Assessing the Impact: Is Antilia Actually "Bad" Design?

Expert opinion is split.

Some architects argue that Antilia is a masterpiece of "bespoke architecture." It is perfectly tailored to the needs of the client. If the client wanted a 27-story house with 6 floors of cars and a snow room, and the architect built it so it doesn't fall down in a monsoon, is that a success?

From a purely functional standpoint, yes.

From a "New Urbanism" perspective, it’s a disaster. Modern urban planning emphasizes buildings that contribute to the "streetscape." They should have active ground floors, they should provide shade, and they should harmonize with their neighbors. Antilia does none of this. It sits behind high walls and towers over everything, casting a literal shadow over the community.

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We have to remember that many buildings we now love were once considered the most ugly house in the world—or at least the most ugly structure.

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The Eiffel Tower was loathed by the Parisian elite when it was built. They called it a "gigantic black smokestack." The Guggenheim in New York was compared to an inverted oatmeal cracker.

Will we love Antilia in 100 years?

It’s hard to say. The Eiffel Tower is a public monument. Antilia is a private house. It’s much harder to grow fond of a billionaire's skyscraper than it is to love a park centerpiece. As of now, the consensus remains: it’s a fascinating, expensive, and deeply polarizing piece of the Mumbai skyline.

What You Should Take Away From This

If you're ever in Mumbai, you'll see it. You can't miss it. It’s the tallest thing in Altamount Road.

When you look at it, don't just think about the "ugliness." Think about what it took to build it. Think about the engineering required to balance those massive cantilevered floors.

Next Steps for the Curious:

  • Look at the floor plans: If you can find the published conceptual sketches, you’ll see the engineering is actually quite brilliant, even if the "skin" of the building is messy.
  • Study the concept of "Vastu Shastra": Understanding why the family was hesitant to move in gives you a lot of context regarding Indian cultural views on home and harmony.
  • Compare it to "The One": Look up the Bel Air mega-mansion known as "The One." It’s another contender for "most expensive/extravagant" and offers a very different, horizontal take on the same level of wealth.

Ultimately, calling Antilia the most ugly house in the world is a way for us to process something that is otherwise too big to understand. It’s a house that is also a skyscraper, a garden, and a garage. It’s a contradiction in glass and steel. Whether you love it or hate it, it has achieved the one thing every architect dreams of: it made the world look.

True beauty might be in the eye of the beholder, but true "ugliness" on this scale requires a serious budget and a lot of guts. It’s a landmark. It’s a talking point. And in the end, it’s a home. A very, very strange home.