Jigra Review: Alia Bhatt Does Full Justice To The Film

Jigra Review: Vedang Raina puts his best foot forward in the guise of the harried and tortured Ankur.

A jailbreak thriller riding on the shoulders of the waif-like Alia Bhatt is, owing to the very nature of the effort, no ordinary cinematic project. Jigra employs the broad conventions of a rescue drama but gives it a spin by putting the onus of the saviour act on a woman who will stop at nothing once she sets herself a goal.

But that isn’t the only reason why Jigra, Vasan Bala’s fourth film as director, is noteworthy. It may be far from perfect – for one, it is 20 minutes too long and, as a consequence, somewhat sluggish in parts – but it does a neat job of crafting a gripping action drama.

Jigra, scripted by Vasan Bala and Debashish Irengbam, is marked by minimal plotting, understated performances and flawless technical attributes. The backstories of the principal characters, including Satya and her brother, are accounted for without wasting any footage.

The story of a woman wronged by fate and family revolves around Satyabhama Anand (Bhatt) who heads to a fictional Southeast Asian nation governed by draconian laws when her brother Ankur (Vedang Raina), implicated in a possession of drugs case, ends up on death row there. His execution is months away and Satya has not time to waste.

She knows that Ankur is innocent, that he is a victim of circumstances stemming from the terrible hand that life dealt the two siblings. She is determined to liberate her kid brother come what may. She makes common cause with a jovial ex-gangster Bhatia (Manoj Pahwa), who, too, has a good reason to help her.

Bhatia quickly becomes the father figure that Satya has never had, having been raised by distant relatives who have treated her more as a factotum than family. (Early in the film, an engagement ceremony is in progress and Satya is in staff uniform until the family patriarch instructs her to don civil attire – indicating her tenuous status in the world she inhabits).

Satya and Bhatia are joined by Muthu (Rahul Ravindran), a retired Indian-origin policeman who knows the jail inside out. The trio draws up a daring plan to get Ankur, Bhatia’s son Tony and another wrongly convicted prisoner out of the high-security prison that is run by a ruthless officer in charge, Hans Raj Landa (Vivek Gomber).

Jigra has stretches that could have done with sharper editing, but explosive pace and breathless action is not what the film is all that interested in. It glides quickly through its early portions to set the stage for Satya’s foray into an alien land where she has no friends until she meets Bhatia and Muthu.

Once Satya settles in and finds a residence close to the prison, Jigra slows down appreciably to follow the moves that the aggrieved woman makes as she firms up her plans to pull off a jailbreak with the help of those that know the innards of the correctional institution better.

The film’s final act marks another overt change of pace. It makes a clean break from the more leisurely build-up and delivers a protracted action block that strains credulity somewhat but is mounted with exceptional flair and flourish. Because it crackles with energy, it does not overly wear down the audience.

Up until this point of Jigra, Manoj Pahwa and, to a markedly lesser extent, Rahul Ravindran, share screen time with Alia Bhatt. In the climax, however, it is the lead actress who hogs all the spotlight. It’s her mission and she moves to the centre of the stage.

Satya’s actions are rooted in her past. She has always been protective of her kid brother. In the film’s first scene, she asks Ankur for the names of classmates who have bullied him. I will punish each of them, she asserts. But as she and Ankur enter their home, they witness a tragedy that alters their lives forever.

“Tu meri rakhi pehenta hain na, tu meri protection mein hai (I tie a rakhi on our wrist, you are under my protection),” Satya says to Ankur, reversing the power dynamic in the sister-brother relationship.

She verbalises this assurance when she, hard-pressed to hide her sense of alarm, meets Ankur for the first time in jail and vows that as long as Big Sis is around no harm will befall him. It is as much a statement of intent aimed at calming her brother as a promise to herself.

Satya’s resolve and derring-do are severely tested several times. That her jailbreak plan is questionable, both logistically and morally, is pointed out to her more than once. But she stands firm. There is no way she is going to let her brother end up on the electric chair.

As Satya’s mission hurtles towards its climax, the sweep of Jigra expands and encompasses gangsters, political rebels, prison rioters and rapid action police squads. The finale acquires propulsive power as Satya storms the prison even as the jail administrator uses all his might to stop the three young men that the protagonist is out to rescue.

Shot by Swapnil S. Sonawane, Jigra is a visually dynamic thriller with a restless, energetic rhythm that offsets the occasionally deliberate pace of the narrative. Achint Thakkar’s background score enhances the film’s intrinsically propulsive quality.

Alia Bhatt has better performances and more rounded characters behind her, but the role of Satyabhama Anand is unique. And not just in the context of her individual oeuvre. She delivers a solid and convincing star turn as a “hero” who defies ingrained gender perceptions and parameters.

Vedang Raina puts his best foot forward in the guise of the harried and tortured Ankur, a young man who hangs in there because he is confident that his didi is hazaaron mein ek (one in many thousands).

It is easy to see why he thinks the way he does: the lady has no qualms about breaking bones – and the law – when her brother, the only family she has, is in danger.

Manoj Pahwa, as always, livens up the film with a phenomenally effortless and effective performance.

It goes without saying that Alia Bhatt does full justice to Jigra. The question is: does Jigra do justice to the quiet, measured flair that she brings to the role? Just about. And that, by all reckoning, is no mean feat.