Villainous godmen are becoming an OTT staple. The acclaim of Aashram (2020), which catapulted Bobby Deol’s dangling career, was followed by the rockstar act of Manoj Bajpayee in Sirf Ek Bandaa Kaafi Hai (2023) where he played a lawyer, going against a godman to ensure justice to a rape victim. There was also Netflix's Maharaj (2024), which again revolved around a baba brainwashing and sexually assaulting his female disciples. Godmen make for great antagonists as they provide filmmakers with a controversy-free proxy to comment on the banes of blind-faith, callousness of power systems and the perils of patriarchal societies, while also championing the need for female liberty and free thinking.
Creators and directors: Nitya Mehra and Karan D Kapadia
Cast: Aneet Padda, Raghubir Yadav, Fatima Sana Shaikh, Mohammed Zeeshan Ayyub, Arjun Mathur, Ram Kapoor, Zoya Hussain, and Rajesh Sharma
Rating: 2.5 stars
Hunkkaar is no different. It ticks off the same tropes these narratives are inundated with. It just goes a few inches deeper. The perpetrator is not on-surface evil, the victim refuses to be controlled by her trauma, the investigating cop isn’t perfect, the lawyer listens more than he retorts, and the journalist prefers truth over TRP. There are some inventive tweaks and the ensemble does most of the heavy lifting but the familiar narrative still drains interest.
A pandora’s box is opened after 17-year-old Meenu (Aneet Padda), a student at revered godman Baapji’s (Raghubir Yadav) school, accuses him of rape. His fanatics have resorted to character-assassinating her. Her parents are suffering in silence and guilt. A determined cop Jasleen (Fatima Sana Shaikh) is the investigating officer in the case and she is hell-bent on putting Baapji behind bars. TV journalist Amitabh (Arjun Mathur) is also raising the torch of truth amid the blinding flashlights of ratings-hungry channels. The small-time lawyer, Bhalerao (Mohammed Zeeshan Aayub), is arguing to attain justice for Meenu as he is engaged in a David vs Goliath battle with an experienced, hotshot lawyer Govind Ved Prakash (Ram Kapoor).
Hunkkaar begins with promise. The opening sequence with close-up shots of a girl’s anxious hands and that of a dangling locket which is in the shape of the symbol of Baapji’s cult immediately sets up the conflict. It’s interesting to see what creators Nitya Mehra and Karan D Kapadia choose to capture in order to tell the story. In a montage sequence of the lawyers giving arguments in a courtroom, hearing after hearing the camera focuses on their chairs being pushed back with increased intensity as they spring up to interject. The dragging chairs maybe serving as a metaphor for a dragging justice system.
But this novelty of the gaze blurs out as the genre cliches take over. The investigation takes predictable turns as it is revealed that Meenu might not be the only victim. Baapji’s son is a crazed, desperate heir eager to get on the throne. His arc too doesn’t really get a conclusive end. The journalist Amitabh’s TV channel gets an IT raid, witnesses come forth and are murdered, the lawyer undergoes caste bias. We have seen all of these themes in different permutations and combinations across films and series.
The approach the creators take is fresh, till its not. What soldier on though are the performances. Aneet Padda’s silent rage is the solid base of the series. Her Saiyaara stardom should not eclipse the fact that she is a nuanced performer. I recently saw Raghubir Yadav in Om Ka Hari, where he gave a loud performance as an argumentative father. His contrasting act here as a soft-spoken, flute-playing, calm and almost hypnotic godman just reiterates his range. Arjun Mathur is fun and solid as a rare species of a journalist fighting for the powerless. Fatima Sana Shaikh gives an assured performance as the cop in charge of the case and although Mohammed Zeeshan Ayyub can now sleepwalk through the role of an underprivileged, conscientious man, he is still impressive as a lawyer whose brief smile works better than a verbal comeback.
Hunkkaar rallies between being an investigative thriller and a courtroom drama and loses steam in both. The reveals become predictable and the plot threads stretch out and dangle. The courtroom arguments become sentimental speeches, targeted more at the viewer than the judge presiding the case. The criticism and exploration of blind faith seemed new and more interesting than arguments citing the country’s rape statistics. Hunkkaar roars sporadically but for most of its runtime, it plays the same old tune.
