A tribute to the men in khaki, the series, streaming on Amazon Prime Video, sacrifices nuance for familiar tropes and struggles to balance action with social commentary
Rohit Shetty’s super cop universe is only growing bigger and bigger. The director, known for making men in khaki the new onscreen heroes in films like Singham (2011), Singham Returns (2014), Simmba (2018) and Sooryavanshi (2021), has hit upon a tried-and-tested formula that seems to have mostly worked. It’s no surprise that his OTT debut, Indian Police Force, a seven-part series featuring Sidharth Malhotra, Shilpa Shetty Kundra, and Vivek Oberoi, follows the familiar blueprint. But a web series is not a film, and the latest blend of action and drama, created by Rohit Shetty and co-directed by Rohit and Sushwanth Prakash, feels like a misfire.
Delhi Police Officer Kabir Malik (Sidharth Malhotra) embarks on a mission alongside his senior, Vikram Bakshi (Vivek Oberoi), to shield the capital from a series of ominous bomb blasts. Their efforts are bolstered by the inclusion of Tara Shetty (Shilpa Shetty), an officer from the Gujarat ATS, who brings her firsthand experience of similar terror attacks witnessed in Gujarat. The plot unfolds with the looming threat of terror blasts escalating across India, orchestrated by a Muslim who has had a traumatic childhood: he lost his uncle in communal riots. Motivated by a desire for revenge against Hindus, Zarar (Mayyank Taandon) navigates a path marred by terror, bloodshed, and violence.
Faith accompli
In the midst of this turmoil, Malik, himself a Muslim, is resolute in his determination to apprehend this elusive adversary. The recurring refrain of ‘get this bastard’ echoes violently throughout the series, as every character passionately hurls this demand at each twist and turn. It’s futile, if you ask me, but then again in Rohit Shetty’s copverse, aggression is the only poetry you’ll get. Despite repeated warnings to keep emotions at bay, Malik, driven by a personal motive, becomes relentlessly invested in the pursuit. Whether it be his quick temper, disdain for rules, or an overarching sense of bitterness, Malik is unmistakably set on a path where the personal and the professional blur, long before the lines are officially crossed, due to a personal loss.
In Indian Police Force, Rohit Shetty takes the narrative of good Muslims versus bad Muslims further, as previously seen in Sooryavanshi, as he tries to sidestep the perception of anti-Muslim sentiment and advance political agendas that have been associated with his filmmaking in the past. This time around, the portrayal is a little more complex, with a greater representation of positive Muslim characters, including the film’s macho protagonist, Kabir Malik, who operates within the system.
Certainly, making a Muslim police officer as the central protagonist is a commendably bold move for a filmmaker like Rohit Shetty, one that could have been deemed to be groundbreaking, if not primarily motivated by a desire to mitigate controversy. In the case of Malhotra’s character, Malik, his Muslim identity barely exists. Even his surname doesn’t overtly signal his religious background. The revelation of his faith is delayed (spoiler alert!) until the story’s climax when Zarar accuses him of betraying his own religion.
Spoiled by the comfort of familiar tropes
Malik’s identity is neither just there, nor is used to define the story’s religious stand, rather, it seems it is strategically positioned as a preemptive defense against potential accusations of intolerance. This narrative choice raises questions about whether the character’s Muslim background serves as a genuine exploration of identity or as a protective shield — anyone would assume the latter, given how little interest Shetty as a filmmaker has in doing justice to Malik’s Muslim identity, or any Muslim’s in general. Everything is collateral damage to the greater purpose of serving ignorant entertainment in Shetty’s universe.
The editing in Indian Police Force, with its sporadic flickers of villainous images, is not just annoying but veers into amateurish territory. The breakneck yet dull pace of the story leaves no room to develop a meaningful connection with the characters. Shetty appears indecisive about whether he intends to convey a social message or present a high-octane action saga. The simultaneous pursuit of both objectives seems beyond his grasp.
Social commentary, such as the abrupt inclusion of lines like ‘Islam tere baap ka hai?' feels forced and lacks depth. While the effort to portray characters with shades of gray is admirable, it unfortunately falls short. After briefly attempting to explore the complexities of these characters, they revert to stereotypical, one-dimensional roles — terrorist and cop, hero and villain. The potential for nuanced storytelling is sacrificed for the comfort of familiar tropes repeatedly.
Nevertheless, Malhotra’s portrayal of Kabir Malik does stand out in parts, bringing a level of gravitas and soulfulness that arguably surpasses the characters played by Akshay Kumar and Ajay Devgn in their respective roles as Veer Sooryavanshi and Bajirao Singham in terms of the earnestness that Malhotra brings to the table. When he talks about moving on from loss, you see that the sincerity within him shines; in fact, you can tell that there’s a person who understands grief, love and life beneath that muscular exterior, something that many action-heroes cannot boast of. However, it’s crucial to acknowledge that Malhotra, while delivering a compelling performance, doesn’t quite capture the robust charisma exhibited by Ranveer Singh in Simmba, defined by a seamless blend of strength and compassion.
Spectacle over substance
That said, there’s not a lot to say about Shilpa Shetty and Vivek Oberoi’s performances, except that they are unconvincing and straight out of a garish soap opera. What fails even worse than Rohit Shetty’s politics in the 45-minute-long episodes is the fact that he is innately not a filmmaker for the small screen. It is a truth universally acknowledged that the smaller the screen, the higher the demand of a compelling and robust screenplay. The silver screen has this ability to fabricate an illusion of grandeur, an illusion that can conceal loopholes at times. However, the small screen is unforgiving — it exposes every loophole, and you can’t manipulate it into selling spectacle over substance as easily as you can with the big screen.
In Indian Police Force, Rohit Shetty finds himself handicapped, deprived of the cinematic elements that usually work in his favour. Shetty’s cinema, especially the ‘copverse’, relies heavily on booming background scores and larger-than-life entries on jeeps, helicopters, and bikes. However, in this venture, those elements are conspicuously absent, forcing Shetty to navigate a terrain where he isn’t particularly adept. As the saying goes, one should play to their strengths, and Shetty, if astute, might find his forte in cinema halls. The bland narrative in Indian Police Force could have been compensated by expertly crafted action sequences that captivate audiences, a signature Shetty strength. While the expected action is present, the glaring absence of substance and story turns the action into mere noise.
In a cinema hall, viewers can suffer even a lacklustre film for two hours, but in this Malhotra-starrer, enduring nearly seven hours of mindless fireworks and brawls becomes an overwhelming task. A successful show demands material that not only fills the time and space but also engages the audience to move forward. Unfortunately, Indian Police Force is a snoozefest, lacking the compelling elements that would entice viewers to click ‘next.’
