It feels as though the creators of Jigra embarked on their cinematic journey without a completed map. The narrative travels a promising path, only to abruptly steer into chaos in its second act, relying heavily on a barrage of action sequences reminiscent of a relentless climax. As the sirens and gunfire rise to a crescendo, one can’t help but wonder if the filmmakers paused somewhere in the story-telling process, shrugging off inquiries about the latter half with a resigned, “Second half, bas goli-barood (just guns, bombs)!”
Jigra, an action-thriller directed by Vasan Bala, features the star-studded cast of Alia Bhatt and Vedang Raina. Despite its potential, the film can be likened to an overture that forgets its symphonic progression post-intermission. With a 2/5 rating, it struggles to sustain the initial intrigue it generates. This is a plight not uncommon in the world of cinema – the first act captivates, dazzles even, but sustaining that momentum proves elusive as the novelty wanes.
The genre of Jigra culminates in a classic prison-break, a thrilling concept that unfortunately devolves into a ceaseless finale sequence, adorned with a musical backdrop trying to salvage the narrative. The culmination feels unending, straining the audience’s patience with an overwrought attempt to justify its protracted conclusion. The film leaves viewers pondering if it was pieced together from an unfinished script, abruptly transitioning into a marathon of gunshots and explosions.
Now, why does Jigra incite such disappointment? Particularly given how often narratives fall into the trap of promising beginnings fizzling out. The answer may lie in the expectation set by its premise. Initially, Jigra engages the audience, immersing them into an intricate universe filled with clever cinematic transitions—from cigars to firecrackers, glasses to towering skyscrapers. The film’s first half includes engaging scenes, such as the intimate touch of fingers through a prison window, reminiscent of a tender but doomed hope.
The film’s rich tapestry of cinematic nods provides warmth to movie aficionados, referencing directors like Robert Rodrigues, Wong Kar-wai, Kim Ki-duk amongst others.
. These Easter eggs create a depth that keeps viewers vigilant. But what point do they serve in a narrative fizzling into chaos? The film presents an interesting setting, suggestive of Singapore with its severe penalties and cultural nuances blended into a fictional city-state, likened to a chaotic mix of Singaporean order and the tumult of Jakarta or Bangkok.
Set against this backdrop is the plight of an Indian man on death row for drug possession, invoking memories of documentaries like “Banged Up Abroad” rather than a descent into Bollywood-style underworld. Vedang Raina, cast as the doomed brother, becomes the motivation for Alia Bhatt’s character to take on a fierce, determined quest to save him. Despite her petite stature, Bhatt’s performance channels a formidable energy, challenging the traditional protector-protected sibling dynamic with a ferocity that redefines ‘rakhee’ roles.
Yet, the film’s exploration of their bond feels forced, more explained than inherently felt, overshadowed by the dramatic intensity of the father’s suicide which bookends the narrative. The drama largely plays out within an East Asian prison, offering little beyond an opportunity for characters to converse in Hindi, adding more to the cultural tapestry than to plot innovation.
The antagonist, Vivek Gomber, embodies the villainous jailer, persistently resurfacing to derail the hero’s efforts—much like the unending explosions and gunfire that signify the film’s descent into action-overload. These sequences push the film from a promising start in Bombay and Singapore into what feels like a Michael Bay transformation, drowning out earlier subtleties.
In sporadic moments of frustration, one might find themselves seeking knowledge elsewhere, prompted by dialogues that invoke experiments on hope and survival—concepts ironically mirrored in the perseverance of the film’s protagonist. As the chaos unfolds, aligning oneself with Alia’s character is both wanting and challenging in a storyline veering off course.
Despite a captivating start and a premise rich with potential, Jigra succumbs to a finale of gratuitous explosive extravagance. Those venturing to understand its disjointed narrative will need ample ‘jigra’ (courage) themselves.
