24 frames per second

The opening chapter of Dhurandhar – The Revenge gives us a glimpse of Jaskeerat Singh Rangi before he became known to us through the first film as Hamza Ali Mazari. It occurred to me later that, as a cheeky nod to another film on an overlapping subject with one significant overlapping character, this chapter could’ve been titled: The past is prologue.

That being said, the duology itself seems to fit that description. If the first film was nearly all setup, the second film is nearly all payoff. For a film that uses subcontinental variations of the f-word often enough to make Scorsese proud, pretty much the only penetration the film concerns itself with is of the speeding metal variety.

In the weeks following its release, there is sure to be a lot of discussion/teeth-gnashing about the film’s propaganda. Let’s be clear, the reference to mountains of fake currency, slaughterhouses in UP and suchlike in the first part were all placed with the express intention of being followed up on in this one. So nothing really comes as a surprise. As for whether the film is factual, I think it is best to think of it a bit like Forrest Gump — there are real historical events, and a fictional character in the midst of it all, but that’s about far as it goes.

The appeal of cinema, especially when the subject isn’t fluff, is always going to be a mix of what it’s about and how it’s about it. I tend to favour the latter a bit more, but your mileage may vary.

So what remains for me to talk about it: Does it work as a film?

The answer, for me, is: not entirely. Much of the running time is devoted to Hamza’s revenge tour. Having established himself as the apex predator in the Lyari jungle, he now begins to hunt in earnest. There’s more ketchup here than in a Heinz factory. The trouble is, these lengthy sequences muscle out the potential for true drama and tension.

Here’s a man who has been living undercover as a spy for a very long time. But he is surrounded by people whose paranoia isn’t so much a character trait as a survival skill, so the threat of being detected is always there. Given the number and importance of the people being offed, everybody in this world ought to be under suspicion, not least an unknown Baloch who seems to have risen quickly to the top of his heap. Plus, the border between the world he inhabits and the world he left behind is a bit more porous than he thinks, so there’s always the risk of coming face to face with someone from his past — and indeed he does. And let’s not forget, being undercover isn’t exactly a picnic for the psyche when you’re pretty damaged to begin with.

All of this ought to make for some fantastic drama and genuine chew-your-nails-off-like-Venus-de-Milo tension. What we get instead is people being killed. I’m not a big fan of bad guys, but I could’ve done with a smaller body count and more drama.

It’s not like Aditya Dhar doesn’t know how to craft good drama. A photograph being burned in the beginning finds its echo in a similar moment much later. A promise of a story to be told later is fulfilled, if only with just a line, but it works beautifully. There’s a moment when Hamza sees what a piece of the world he left behind has evolved into, and Ranveer manages to convey a complex emotional landscape with so little obvious acting that it becomes a thing of beauty. But between turning inward and turning outward, Dhar tends to choose the latter more often than not, which leads to a film that’s action packed but a lot more dull that it ought to be.

Consider the outstanding close-up just before the end credits. You get a window into a character’s inner world, and the performance more than matches the moment. It’s a perfect ending. And then, once the credits start rolling, you get another sequence, ending in another close-up, and all that beauty is wasted.

Having said all of that, I will, however, add this: The film offers one delectable treat: five fantastic minutes towards the end, and a moment of revenge that really hits the spot. Pure masala filmmaking, this. If there is a moment that truly justifies the title, this is the one. You’ll know it when you see it.