Yash Raj Films’ chick flick camouflaged as a spy thriller, is a strange though not altogether unlikeable beast. It is partly a Dhurandhar styled spy thriller where a Pakistani rogue soldier infiltrates the Indian army for decades and doesn’t get caught, probably because everyone is so much into desh bhakti that they forget to peer on the other side (I suggest a quick viewing of the Dhurandhar universe for all the Alpha creatures).
Alpha is partly mythological, introducing a woman named Janki, played by Diya Mirza, as a blink-and-miss delivery woman who dies after giving birth to Sita and Durga. At one point, while hurling towards the not-unimpressively mounted climax, Durga, played by the feisty Shrvari, tells the arch villain, “You are taking on not only Sita but also Durga; you can never win.”
…Or some such silly misplaced mythologization. I found the Ramayan reference laughably improper. Neither Sita nor Durga, or, for that matter, their father (who is blessedly not named Dashrath), look like they have ever read the Ramayana.
The entire mythological allusion is at odds with the tone and intent of the film. Alpha, directed by Shiv Rawail, is a stylish, chic homage to the spirit of Mission Impossible, here transferred from the impregnable male patriot to two women, sisters if you must know, who learn to get tough with the real enemy (dial P for Pakistan) after some rigorous self-searching.
My favourite part of the film—and the episode that renders the narrative forceful and persuasive—is when the two sisters, Sita and Durga (progeny of the late Janaki, if you have forgotten), meet for the first time. The fight, bickering, and the banter that ensues are solidly constructed.
The two actresses, Alia Bhatt and Sharvari, bond beautifully over fistfights and anti-terror activities. Sharvari, in the weaker role, makes an ardent rush for the glories. She plays the privileged progeny with spunk and self-pride.
Alia, in the author-backed role, is very effective in emotional moments. Her portrayal of a woman who has missed out on her childhood and all its fringe benefits is, at times, poignant. At other times, the actress’s intensity gets submerged in the din and the derring-do.
Alia’s surprisingly nimble in the action sequence. Trolls may feel she is too petite to put up a good fight with the masculine harem. But size, as the wise know, is just an illusion. And Alia masters the mayhem as though she were born to battle.
Where the film lets her down is in its eagerness to outdo Dhurandhar in the hate-the-neighbour refrain. The patriotic card is overplayed, undercooked, and too eager to score. The hazy plunges into patriotic pride are way too in-your-face. This is regrettable in a narrative that has so much to offer, especially the choreographic action, which, for the record, is superior to Dhurandhar.
Then the bonding between the two sisters is so spunky and sparkling; I wish the espionage element had been left out.
Alia Bhatt and Sharvari’s terrific chemistry brings a spark to every occasion they bond under the sun. The rest ranges from tolerable to laughably poor. Hrithik Roshan’s cameo is so ill-conceived and unintentionally funny; it feels like an intrusion. The girls were doing fine without male intervention, thank you.
