Tag Archives: Ritesh Shah

Movie Review: Tehran (2025)

2 Replies

Watch Tehran on Netflix
Watch Tehran on Zee5

Note: I’m forgoing giving Tehran a star-rating as it feels too reductive for a problematic subject.

Tehran is a movie whose potential release window closed years ago. It was filmed in October 2022, a year before norms around addressing Israel’s relationship with the Middle East’s Islamic countries changed. On top of that, the inexperienced storytelling team behind Tehran lacks the finesse to pull it off. This messy film should’ve stayed on the shelf.

The story opens by stating that it is based on real-life assassination attempts on Israeli diplomats in 2012 that took place in three countries: India, Thailand, and Georgia. Maps of the countries are shown on-screen, including a map of the state of Georgia within the United States of America — not the country Georgia, where the attack actually occurred.

John Abraham plays Rajeev “RK” Kumar, a cop in Delhi’s Special Branch — a unit with incredibly wide operational latitude, if the film is to be believed. He’s pulled from his ethics-bending investigation of organized crime onto a Delhi car-bombing case that killed a young flower seller. RK feels especially bad for the dead girl because he has a daughter the same age (as if that’s the only reason a man could care about the welfare of girls). Once that emotional connection is established, RK hardly thinks of his daughter again.

Indian authorities assume Pakistan was behind the attack, but RK notices that the targeted car carried an Israeli Embassy employee. He finds a connection between two other attacks on Israeli diplomats — in Thailand and the non-US Georgia — as well as evidence that they were planned in India. The attackers are all Iranian citizens.

This is a big problem for India’s government, who are days away from signing a deal with Iran to import cheap oil. There are other considerations regarding India’s relationship with Israel, and innumerable diplomats and politicians from all three countries are so hastily introduced that it causes confusion. Yet the oil deal is paramount. Accusing Iran of attempted assassination would surely scuttle the deal, so the higher ups want this case wrapped up quietly.

That won’t fly with RK, who wants justice for the dead little girl who may as well be his daughter (whom he never sees). But instead of just going after the perpetrator of the Delhi attack — an irritating villain named Afshar (Hadi Khanjanpour), whom we know is extra bad because he takes drugs and has gay sex — RK and his team travel overseas to take out the men behind the Thailand and Georgia attacks.

RK’s subordinates Vijay (Dinkar Sharma) and Divya (Manushi Chhillar in a minuscule role) poison the other two assassins in public places on foreign soil, killing both men. Is the commission of war crimes standard training for Delhi police? When RK and company head to Iran to finish off Afshar, RK’s boss tells him not to bother coming back to India. The threat of never seeing his extremely-important-to-him daughter again doesn’t deter our single-minded hero.

A note at the end of the film that states that RK acted “to stop thousands of Indians from becoming collateral damage,” a figure pulled out of nowhere. It’s used to justify the narrative blank check issued to RK to do whatever he feels necessary, regardless of whether he winds up causing collateral damage of his own.

RK’s own actions and choice of killing methods are part of the messy moral universe crafted by Arun Gopalan, based on a story and screenplay by Bindni Karia, neither of whom have many credits to their names. Ritesh Shah and Ashish Prakash Verma also worked on the screenplay, though their robust resumes don’t seem to have helped much. The creative crew is desperate not to be seen as taking sides in the Israel-Iran conflict, while also obviously taking sides.

Considering that the impetus for RK’s actions is the death of a little girl, a scene in which an Israeli assassin shoots an Iranian scientist in front of his young daughter is only shown in passing. Yet a scene in which Iranian assassin Afshar tortures a rabbi — whom we are told was kidnapped when he went to buy his daughter’s favorite bread — is lingered upon. It’s brought up again when an Israeli agent asks RK to get revenge for the rabbi’s death, to which RK says, “You kill theirs. They kill yours. No one is clean here. I’m not here to judge.”

The torture sequence is particularly troubling because Afshar is trying to get the rabbi to record a message demanding that Israel leave Palestine. “Free Palestine” is painted in huge letters on the wall behind him. This is used to establish Afshar as the villain, conflating his advocacy for Palestinian independence with terrorism. The movie does this with another character who has a “Free Palestine” poster, to whom RK says, “It looks like you hold a lot of hate for Israel.”

This movie was filmed a year before Israel responded to a Hamas attack with an ongoing genocidal war on Gaza that has killed tens of thousands of Palestinians. Just a couple of months before this movie’s release, Israel bombed nuclear sites within Iran. Had Tehran released as originally scheduled in 2023, perhaps it could have sold its “not taking sides” stance more effectively. It doesn’t get that same kind of grace releasing on August 14, 2025.

On top of all the messy political stuff, Tehran is just not a great movie. There’s nothing special about the acting, stunts, or locations, especially since the makers thought that Scotland could believably stand-in for Iran. This isn’t a project worth sullying reputations for. Just write it off on the corporate tax forms and pretend it never happened.

Links

Movie Review: The Diplomat (2025)

2 Replies

3 Stars (out of 4)

Watch The Diplomat on Netflix

The Diplomat offers a compelling cinematic perspective on India’s relationship with Pakistan, offering an alternative to the usual military conflicts and spy dramas. Though less action-packed than those two sub-genres typically are, the bureaucratic processes in The Diplomat generate just as much tension.

The film — based on a true story — opens in a remote, mountainous region of Pakistan in 2017. Two rustic-looking men and one burka-clad woman drive from a compound to the Indian embassy in Islamabad. As they wait for the office to open, the men tell the woman, “You know what to do.” When the men go out for a smoke, the woman sprints to a receptionist. She begs for help, claiming to be an Indian woman tricked into marriage and held against her will.

Letting her in isn’t an easy a decision. Is she telling the truth? Is she a terrorist? The Indian embassy staff is split on what to do, so they leave the call to Deputy High Commissioner J.P. Singh (John Abraham). The woman’s name is Uzma (Sadia Khateeb), and she holds to her story of abuse and deception even under J.P.’s fierce interrogation. When her passport details check out, she’s given sanctuary inside the embassy.

Anywhere else in the world, the story ends with Uzma on a plane back to India. However, The Diplomat lays out all the conflicting agendas surrounding what J.P. considers to be a humanitarian case, not a political one. Indian External Affairs minister Sushma Swaraj (Revathy) wants J.P. to handle things discreetly. Pakistan’s diplomatic wing seems content with that as well, but their spy branch — led by Director General Malik Sahab (Ashwath Bhatt) — sees the opportunity to stoke public hostility toward India.

With Sahab’s encouragement, Uzma’s husband Tahir (Jagjeet Sandhu) — one of the men from the beginning of the film — files a case that she’s being illegally detained inside the embassy. That leaves the Indian consulate with no choice but to resolve the matter in Pakistani court, where Uzma will have to face her abuser.

Director Shivam Nair and writer Ritesh Shah do a good job handling this aspect of the story. Flashbacks to Uzma’s imprisonment by Tahir don’t explicitly show her rape. Rather, Nair has cinematographer Dimo Popov push in for an extreme closeup on Uzma’s eye during the abuse. Witnessing her fear from such an intimate distance is disturbing.

Both minister Sushma and embassy employee Seerat (Vidhatri Bandi) explain to J.P. that he may not be the best equipped to understand the fear Uzma feels following her sexual assault. Rather than treat J.P. as a superhero who can fix every problem single-handedly, the story has him defer to the women’s judgment about how to help Uzma proceed.

It’s easy to forget that J.P. is supposed to be an ordinary man, given that he’s played by John Abraham (who also produced the film). With Abraham’s hulking frame and action-heavy filmography, one almost expects J.P. to solve more of his problems with violence. That said, Abraham does a nice job breaking type and playing a character so, well, diplomatic.

Khateeb also does fine work in a challenging role, as does the rest of the cast. Though the film shows the dangers the embassy employees face in keeping Uzma safe, it would’ve been nice to hear more from the peripheral characters about their feelings. For example, Seerat seems nonchalant about acting as Uzma’s body double despite the death threats from Tahir’s people. Maybe an embassy worker’s job description involves less paperwork and more general badassery than I realized.

The Diplomat is noteworthy for how it depicts the Pakistani government’s relationship with terrorism as complicated, as opposed to a film like 2024’s Fighter, which characterized the government as being subservient to terrorists. While Sahab’s spy branch sees terror outfits like Tahir’s as useful tools — albeit unpredictable ones — there are like-minded people J.P. can work with in Pakistan’s diplomatic wing. He has a local lawyer (played by Kumud Mishra) he can rely on, and the court system is portrayed as legitimate. There are a few off-handed remarks about Pakistan being chaotic, but the film resists blanket condemnation. In doing so, it emphasizes the importance of India’s diplomatic efforts and the respect deserved by the people tasked with carrying them out.

Links

Movie Review: I Want to Talk (2024)

1 Reply

2.5 Stars (out of 4)

Watch I Want to Talk on Amazon Prime

Director Shoojit Sircar’s drama I Want to Talk features a career-defining performance by Abhishek Bachchan, but the screenplay by Ritesh Shah feels incomplete.

The film is based on Arjun Sen’s autobiographical book Raising a Father, though it comes with the standard opening note that it isn’t a strict retelling. Bachchan plays Arjun, a ruthless marketing executive living in southern California. He’s in the middle of a divorce from his wife Indrani, with whom he shares an elementary-school-aged daughter named Reya (Pearle Dey).

A coughing fit during a business presentation sends Arjun to the hospital, where it’s determined that he has laryngeal cancer. He leaves in a fog of denial, but a follow-up visit finds cancer cells in his colon as well. Multiple surgeries leave him unable to work, costing him his job, right as his divorce settlement costs him his house. He keeps his Cadillac but downsizes to rental home that has seen better days.

Throughout his medical trials, Arjun tries to shield Reya from the seriousness of his condition while maintaining a busy custody schedule of Tuesdays, Thursdays, and every other weekend. This is where the screenplay struggles. According to the movie, Arjun is able to manage all of his appointments and recovery time without ever talking to his ex-wife about Reya. We only ever see Indrani once during a meeting with their lawyers. From a purely logistical standpoint this would be impossible, and that goes double for trying to explain to a kid who isn’t even ten why daddy can’t lift her up after surgery or why he’s so sleepy all the time.

With Arjun’s ex-wife being a void in the narrative, he’s forced to find support in other places. That includes his grumpy handyman Johny, played by Johny Lever in a role that shows he’s a more talented actor than we get to see in the over-the-top comic roles he typically plays. There’s also Arjun’s dismissive surgeon Dr. Deb (Jayant Kripalani), who comes to tolerate Arjun’s pestering.

Best of all is Dr. Deb’s nurse, Nancy (Kristin Goddard). She sympathetic but won’t let Arjun off the hook when he gets down on himself. Goddard delivers a short monologue that is equal parts heartfelt and hilarious. It’s a highlight of the film.

Another highlight is the evocative score by George Joseph & Koyna. It’s sparingly used but effective. Sircar relies a lot on ambient sounds and visuals of the stark, mountainous landscape near California’s Lake Hemet to set the scene.

Although the world of I Want to Talk is atmospheric, it doesn’t feel full enough. The plot jumps forward several years, and a lot of information about how Arjun manages his life is lost in the transition. We see little of the growth in Arjun’s relationships with those closest to him; they are suddenly friends instead of adversaries. Even important characters feel like they blink out of existence until Arjun needs their help.

The exception is Reya, who is played as a teenager by capable debutant Ahliya Bamroo. Sircar gives Reya enough scenes to establish her as her own person within Arjun’s story. She’s a kid finding herself while navigating a tricky relationship with her father, one further complicated by by his medical problems. But again, her continuing ignorance about his condition after more than a dozen surgeries beggars belief.

All that said, this is Abhishek Bachchan’s movie, and he carries the weight of it gracefully. It’s a performance that is challenging not just emotionally but physically. His movements are slow and pained, evoking memories of another character burdened by frailty in a Shoojit Sircar movie: Abhishek’s father Amitabh Bachchan in Piku. Sircar shows great compassion for people with physical challenges in the way he directs his actors, and both Bachchans interpreted their characters beautifully.

Links

[Disclaimer: my Amazon links include an affiliate tag, and I may earn a commission on purchases made via those links. Thanks for helping to support this website!]

Movie Review: Dasvi (2022)

1 Reply

3.5 Stars (out of 4)

Watch Dasvi on Netflix

Comedies made for an audience of all ages aren’t often considered prestige viewing, but they’re no less difficult to get right. Dasvi does just that, telling a story with broad appeal that never feels dumbed-down, thanks to solid performances and terrific story structure.

Abhishek Bachchan stars as Ganga Ram Chaudhary, Chief Minister (CM) of the state of Harit Pradesh. He’s used to getting his way, flaunting his power by transferring a local police officer he deems too strict and shutting down a proposal to build a school in favor of building a mall.

When he’s thrown into jail pending a bribery investigation, his life doesn’t change that much. Suck-up prison guard Satpal (Manu Rishi Chadha) gives Chaudhary special accommodations, and Chaudhary’s timid wife Bimla Devi (Nimrat Kaur) fills in as CM, taking direction from her husband over the phone.

All that changes when the prison gets a tough new warden, Jyoti Deshwal (Yami Gautam Dhar). Wouldn’t you know, she’s the same strict cop Chaudhary had transferred before he went to jail. She axes Chaudhary’s special privileges, including his daily calls to Bimla Devi, who’s left to govern on her own. Jyoti mocks Chaudhary’s eighth-grade education, calling him an “uncouth bumpkin.”

This hit to his pride — and his desire to avoid manual labor — inspires Chaudhary to take on the challenge of earning his high school diploma while behind bars. If he fails, he promises to drop out of politics.

Chaudhary is a fun comic hero because his flaws are obvious to the audience, but not to him. We know his dismissive attitude toward education needs to change, but why should it while he’s living the life he wants? When he finally gets on the right path, it’s a fun twist that his biggest obstacle is not the warden but his own wife, who’s come to enjoy the power that comes with being the CM.

A lot of the jokes in Dasvi stem from verbal faux pas committed by Chaudhary and Bimla Devi. Not all of the wordplay humor translates, but Laxminarayan Singh does a good job of nailing most of the jokes via the English subtitles (as when Bimla Devi insists that they build an “effigy” of her, when she means “statue”).

But Dasvi isn’t so much a laugh-out-loud comedy as it is one that lets the powerful make fools of themselves. The film doesn’t rely on tacky jokes or goofy sound effects, instead letting well-drawn characters highlight what’s funny about a perverse situation. This is all possible thanks to a carefully constructed screenplay by Suresh Nair and Ritesh Shah and some ace direction by Tushar Jalota, who helms his first feature film.

The cast does exactly what it needs to do to set the right tone, giving characters the right mix of silliness and sentiment. Abhishek Bachchan, Yami Gautam Dhar, and Nimrat Kaur carry most of the load, but supporting actors like Manu Rishi Chadha and Arun Kushwaha — who plays the math wiz bicycle thief Ghanti — complete the world-building.

Dasvi feels a lot like a Hollywood comedy in its structure, but it still makes room for a Bollywood-style dance number and a closing speech about the importance of education (for better or worse). It fits that such a widely accessible film would debut on Netflix, a platform always looking to reach a global audience. Making an all-ages film that families around the world can enjoy watching together is a worthy goal and no mean feat.

Links

[Disclaimer: my Amazon links include an affiliate tag, and I may earn a commission on purchases made via those links. Thanks for helping to support this website!]

Movie Review: Pink (2016)

19 Replies

pink3 Stars (out of 4)

Buy the DVD at Amazon
Buy the soundtrack at iTunes

Pink is a clear, convincing skewering of the double standards women are held to regarding their sexuality, and an indictment of the way those standards enable violence against women.

Two vehicles speed toward Delhi late one night. One car carries three male friends, one of whom bleeds profusely from a head wound. A cab ferries three somber women, the only indicator that something is wrong being Minal’s (Taapsee Pannu) smudged lipstick.

We can guess what happened. The bleeding man, Rajveer (Angad Bedi), forced himself on Minal, who defended herself with a glass bottle. She and her roommates Andrea (Andrea Tariang) and Falak (Kirti Kulhari) hope that the guys — Rajveer, Dumpy (Raashul Tandon), and Minal’s schoolmate Vishwa (Tushar Pandey) — will leave things be.

The men seem willing to until another friend, Ankit (Vijay Verma), whips them into a frenzy of wounded male pride. They harass and torment the women, hoping to drive them out of town. When the women file a police report, the men use the political clout of Rajveer’s family to file a counter charge of attempted murder against Minal.

All of this occurs under the watchful eye of the women’s odd neighbor, Deepak Sehgal (Amitabh Bachchan). He walks the neighborhood wearing a black mask and stares intimidatingly at the women’s apartment. Yet the former attorney reveals himself to be an ally, emerging from retirement to defend Minal in court.

One important note for international viewers is that the English subtitles leave much to be desired, and not just because of spoken English dialogue that doesn’t match the captioning. I understand enough Hindi to tell when translated subtitles don’t quite capture what is being said, sacrificing content for brevity, and that happens a lot in Pink.

Poor subtitling may explain why I found some parts of the story confusing. It’s unclear precisely what mental illness forced Sehgal to retire, or why he comes across as sinister early in the film. Bad translating may also be to blame for a perplexing scene late in the film featuring Falak on the witness stand.

Where director Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury and writer Ritesh Shah excel is in the film’s structure. They start with the aftermath of the instigating event and proceed from there, without flashbacks or man-on-the-street reactions (thank heavens). Cases of rape are almost always “he said, she said,” so the audience is limited to the same kind of evidence that a jury might have. Only during the closing credits do we actually see the events that led up to Minal braining Rajveer with the bottle.

Pannu, Kulhari, and Tariang give nuanced performances that portray the range of emotions the women experience in a realistic way. Minal is the “strong” one, but there are limits to what even she can endure. Falak’s instinct to agree to whatever terms will make their problems disappear most quickly is understandable.

Likewise, the actors playing the perpetrators portray their characters as generally normal guys who bring out the worst in each other. Vishwa is reasonable and even a little sympathetic when he’s not with his friends, though he’s clearly not strong enough to stand up to them. Rajveer isn’t a cartoon villain, but rather an entitled bully. He’s gets what he wants because no one stops him.

The morality tale exacted by the younger characters is distilled into tidy lessons by Bachchan’s character during the courtroom scenes. I’m not sure if lawyers in real Indian courtrooms are allowed to monologue as long as Sehgal does, but his words are impactful.

The movie proceeds at a cautious pace to make sure that the audience has time to absorb the moral message being doled out. For those already versed in feminism and issues of violence against women, the pacing feels slow. But Pink is a movie made to change minds, and hiring a legend like Amitabh Bachchan to deliver the message is a smart way to ensure that people listen.

[Update: Thanks to @karansingh9008 and @Djimitunchained for letting me know via Twitter that Sehgal’s illness wasn’t explained in the Hindi dialogue either.]

Links

Movie Review: Madaari (2016)

9 Replies

Madaari1 Star (out of 4)

Buy the DVD at Amazon
Buy the soundtrack at iTunes

Madaari (“The Puppetmaster“) is phony populism at its worst. The entire story hinges on unrealistic assumptions presented in an annoying manner.

Man-on-the-street footage is among the laziest of filmmaking cliches because it serves as a form of storytelling peer pressure. The audience is shown that they must feel a certain way because that’s how these hundreds of random, nameless characters feel. It removes the burden from the filmmaker to craft a convincing narrative while simultaneously assuming that the audience wouldn’t be able to understand a convincing narrative even if they saw one.

Without man-on-the-street footage, Madaari wouldn’t exist. Time and again, we are presented with montages of nobodies telling the audience how to feel, gathered around screens and nodding in unison. It’s irritating.

Take the opening of the film. News channels report that the son of Home Minister Prashant Goswami (Tushar Dalvi) has been kidnapped. An anonymous citizen is so shocked that he nearly drives into oncoming traffic. Cut to a shot of a teenage daughter telling her father that he must have misheard the news, since it would be simply too shocking if the home minister’s son was really kidnapped.

WE GET IT! The kidnapping of a politician’s child is a big deal. We’d understand that just as clearly if the information was presented to us with a shot the minister himself receiving the news that his son was kidnapped. Also, this news has no direct impact on the lives of ordinary citizens, so why do they react so dramatically? It’s not like the news was: “Zombies have taken over India! Run for your lives!”

The kidnapper in Madaari is Nirmal (Irrfan Khan), who doesn’t demand ransom but rather information about the fate of his own 7-year-old son, Apu. It’s clear from Nirmal’s choice of target that he suspects government corruption is at play.

Apparently, much of the public also considers the government corrupt since Nirmal immediately becomes a folk hero. But let’s be clear about this: Nirmal becomes a folk hero for kidnapping a little boy!

It’s not enough for the movie to imply that the home minister had it coming (twisted as that would be). The story blames 8-year-old Rohan (Vishesh Bansal) for his own kidnapping because he’s insufficiently Indian. He eschews traditional street food in favor of french fries and drinks bottled water because local tap water makes him sick. As if kidnapping a “foreign” kid is somehow morally justifiable.

Let’s reiterate: Rohan is eight. He’s eight! He’s entirely a product of his upbringing and his environment, neither of which he has any control over because he’s a little kid.

This is important because, even though Rohan is not in mortal danger early on, Nirmal eventually threatens the boy’s life. Yet that doesn’t change Nirmal’s folk hero status. How is it heroic to threaten to kill a kid?

And why should it matter what the public thinks of this guy anyway? Director Nishikant Kamat and writers Ritesh Shah and Shailja Kejriwal overestimate the public’s ability to influence operational decisions in a case like this, pushing the story in a direction that is absurd and stupid.

Lead investigator Nachiket (Jimmy Shergill) adopts a wait-and-see strategy as his rescue plan, since the members of Prashant’s party are most concerned about the optics of the situation. “If he can’t protect his own son, how can he protect the nation?” This doesn’t leave much for Shergill to do, an unfortunate victim of the film’s pathologically boring tendencies.

When given the opportunity, Khan shows all the skills in his acting arsenal. He’s grounded in his depiction of Nirmal, portraying him as a man shattered but functional. Nirmal’s post-traumatic flashback scenes are more informative and emotionally effective than the news footage Kamat uses as filler.

The climax of Madaari is not only unrealistic, it doesn’t satisfy the hunger for social justice the story so desperately tries to stoke. Madaari isn’t even substantial enough to qualify as populist junk food.

Links

Movie Review: Rocky Handsome (2016)

14 Replies

RockyHandsome2.5 Stars (out of 4)

Buy the soundtrack at Amazon or iTunes

When reviewing a remake, comparison to the original can be unavoidable. One can’t very well unsee a movie just to be able to evaluate its remake without preconceptions. The question then becomes: had I not seen the original, how do I think I would feel about the remake?

Had I seen Rocky Handsome first, I presume that I would have found it convoluted but interesting, especially in regard to its brutal violence and dark thematic elements. However, having already seen The Man From Nowhere — the South Korean film on which Rocky Handsome is based — the Hindi remake doesn’t hold a candle to the original.

Rocky Handsome‘s story is virtually identical to The Man From Nowhere, though the action shifts from Seoul to Goa. A solitary pawn shop owner (John Abraham) nicknamed “Handsome” by his neighbors goes on a killing spree when gangsters kidnap Naomi (Diya Chalwad), a neglected little girl who lives in his building. As Handsome tracks down Naomi, the cops and gangsters pursuing him learn the truth about this mysterious assassin.

Structural changes by director Nishikant Kamat and writer Ritesh Shah make the early parts of Rocky Handsome confusing. Apart from an opening credits musical flashback to Handsome’s romance with Rukshida (Shruti Haasan), the first twenty minutes focus on his tenuous friendship with Naomi, with only a glimpse of the girl’s drug-addicted mother, Anna (Nathalia Kaur). There’s no setup for an intense scene when Naomi discovers her mother being tortured by gangsters in their apartment.

A flashback explains that, one month earlier, Anna stole some heroin without realizing it belonged to notorious mafia brothers Kevin (director Nishikant Kamat) and Luke (Teddy Maurya) Fereira. In The Man From Nowhere, the theft is the opening scene. The audience knows that there will be hell to pay, but not how or when, thus building tension, if not dread.

Also during the flashback, the local police present a rapid-fire montage of the main players in the Goa drug trade, as if it’s possible for the audience to remember so many characters and relationships introduced in such a short span of time.

The selling point in the trailer for Rocky Handsome is the movie’s violence, which is handled well. It’s bloody and cruel, and John Abraham successfully pulls off everything from shootouts to knife fights. A dilapidated church is an eerie staging ground for a climactic battle.

Abraham is less successful in his characterization. As a man grieving his dead wife, he seems more emo than haunted. He first appears on screen slouching under a hoodie like a sullen teen.

Characterization is the biggest problem in Rocky Handsome. Naomi is too chipper, especially compared to her world-weary prototype from The Man from Nowhere, So-Mi. The brothers’ Thai assassin Attila (Kazu Patrick Tang) is flat and has no impact on the narrative, unlike the vitally important Rowan from the original.

Worst of all is Maurya, who turns eccentric Luke into an impotent joke. There’s nothing frightening to Luke’s antics, and he becomes increasingly annoying the longer he’s on screen.

Truth be told, there are few tense moments in Rocky Handsome. Bollywood doesn’t do menace particularly well, though Kamat and Shah had a perfect template to work from. Though there’s plenty of gore, they shy away from the best opportunities to scare the audience.

As I wrote at the outset, if I hadn’t seen The Man From Nowhere, I’d probably have been more entertained by Rocky Handsome. If entertaining is good enough, then by all means, buy a ticket for Rocky Handsome. But if you want greatness, skip it and watch The Man From Nowhere on Netflix instead.

Links