Jigra Movie Review: Alia Bhatt’s film tests both patience and suspension of disbelief.
The protagonists of Karan Johar’s “Rocky Aur Rani Kii Prem Kahaani” and Vasan Bala’s “Jigra” are both portrayed by Alia Bhatt, a leading actress renowned for her exceptional talent. The only link between the saree-clad romantic heroine and the determined woman striving to rescue her brother is their fierce protectiveness; should anyone threaten them or their loved ones, they would not hesitate to retaliate. This characteristic is prominently displayed by Bhatt, reminiscent of her roles in “Gully Boy” and “Gangubai Kathiawadi,” with Bala presenting the most compelling version of this trait to date.
“Jigra” narrates the tale of siblings Satya (Alia Bhatt) and Ankur (Vedang Raina), who were orphaned during their childhood and subsequently raised by affluent relatives. When Ankur finds himself on death row due to drug charges in the fictional nation of Hanshi Dao, Satya is determined to secure his release at any cost.
Vasan Bala’s Jigra, a contemporary reinterpretation of Gumrah, also produced by Dharma Productions and starring Alia Bhatt in the lead role, is poised to resonate with today’s audience. While it exhibits a polished execution, it falls short of delivering the spine-tingling impact characteristic of notable films set abroad, such as Alan Parker’s often controversial yet compelling Midnight Express (1978). This raises a pertinent question: in an age dominated by travel influencers, budget-friendly travel options, and an abundance of true-crime documentaries and podcasts highlighting the dangers of travel, are fictional narratives losing their cautionary significance?
In the film, Alia portrays Satya, an orphan who is deeply devoted to the care of her younger brother following their father’s tragic suicide. The siblings rely on the charity of a distant uncle for their upbringing. Bala demonstrates a remarkable ability to explore transactional human relationships, as seen in his previous works, Mard Ko Dard Nahi Hota and Monica, O My Darling. When tech enthusiast Ankur (Vedang Raina) finds himself wrongfully imprisoned in the fictional East Asian nation of Hanshi Dao during his inaugural business trip, Satya takes it upon herself to charter a plane for his rescue. However, her aspirations are swiftly dashed upon arrival, as the local laws are unforgiving towards suspected drug offenders like Ankur, imposing a death sentence by electrocution.
Jigra is classified as a ‘jailbreak’ film, although this term is not mentioned until an hour into the narrative. As time dwindles for Ankur, and with no legal or diplomatic options available, Satya collaborates with Bhatia (Manoj Pahwa), a retired gangster and father, along with Muthu (Rahul Ravindran), an ex-police officer in search of redemption. Their objective is to infiltrate a high-security prison located on an island. “It’s complicated, unlike a masala movie,” remarks Bhatia, a surprising observation to make in a Vasan Bala film, known for its nostalgic and inclusive approach to cinema.
Watching a Vasan Bala film evokes a continuous sense of nostalgia, blending affection with playful references to other cinematic works. Satya embodies a reinterpretation of Amitabh Bachchan’s troubled orphan character; an early flashback references Ranjeet, Amreesh, and Jeevan, the iconic trio of villains from the Bachchan era. In Bala’s perspective, the boundaries of cinema are perpetually fluid: the eccentric prison warden of Indian descent, portrayed by Vivek Gomber in a surreal Singlish, is named Hans Raj Landa. One could continue to identify such references (including nods to Kim Ki-duk and an Easter egg featuring Red Apple cigarettes), yet a question arises: does Bala’s stylistic approach consistently align with the emotional trajectory of his narrative, as it did in his previous works, or is it starting to resemble the whims of a film enthusiast?
Alia Bhatt delivers a swift and reassuring performance as Satya, embodying a character that is both restless and unpredictable, akin to a bottle rocket precariously tilted on an unfamiliar street. Comparisons have been drawn, not without merit, between the intense familial ties in Jigra and those in Sandeep Reddy Vanga’s Animal (2023). However, Bala, known for his gentle approach, does not fully explore the depths of Satya; a pivotal scene where she suggests self-harm as a negotiation tactic, only to be dissuaded by more rational voices, highlights this ambivalence. Vedang Raina, who previously impressed as the charismatic Reggie in The Archies, delivers a compelling and often poignant portrayal of Ankur. Nonetheless, I find myself wishing the narrative had been exclusively from Satya’s viewpoint, rather than oscillating between the two groups—one inside the prison and the other outside—each entangled in overlapping schemes, which ultimately muddles the overall impact.
Despite the late declaration of “I got the fire,” Jigra fails to achieve a significant emotional resonance. The series of ambushes, infiltrations, and escapes in the final act feels implausible and exaggerated. It presents a traditionally chaotic climax for a film that truly excels in its quieter, more poetic moments: Satya resting on a harbor bench, enveloped in the soft blue-grey light of dawn; basketball serving as a symbol of sibling love; a lifetime of experiences encapsulated in the slow passage of time within a restaurant, devoid of any background music. When Bala returns with his next project, it would be beneficial for him to further develop this aspect of his artistry.
