I seriously wanted to dislike Rosshan Andrrews’ adaptation of his Malayalam film Mumbai Police for what the writers have done to the original in the second half. A key gay character’s dark secret has been completely wiped out and replaced—and here comes the surprise—replaced by a much more profound dilemma of social approbation and individual conscience.
In the second half, there is a defining sequence where the untameable cop Dev Ambre (Shahid Kapoor) tells his copy-buddy Rohan D’Silva (Pavail Gulatie) why he did what he did. It is the moment that will be flashed on screen if and when Shahid Kapoor gets a lifetime achievement award.
It is strange and saddening how most fellow critics have missed the combustive, compelling adaptive modes applied by screenwriter Bobby-Sanjay along with Abbas Dalal, Hussain Dalal, Arshad Syed, and Sumit Arora into the distinctive invigorating Hindi adaptation.
The adaptation boasts of far more emotional density and political complexity than the original.
The changes in the emotional dynamics from Malayalam to Hindi have most affected the protagonist’s character. I can’t say Shahid Kapoor is as good as Prithvi Raj in the original. I found Shahid’s swag in the first half overdone: the wink, the smirk, the nonchalance, the swagger… they are all like red flags waving provocatively in the brackish breeze.
In the second half, when, let’s say, Dev gets to know more about Dev, the identity crisis is adumbrated effectively and, at times, powerfully. It is only post-interval that Shahid comes to terms with his character’s contradictions and blind spots. The way he allows Dev to confront his own demons and the changes that the screenwriters have brought to the table toward the climax are edifying factors not to be found in the original.
What I missed in the lengthy but never sluggish film were strong women characters. Not one woman in the movie gets space to make her presence felt (and the less said about Pooja Hegde as an investigative journalist, the better). Make no mistake: this is a rugged ricocheting boys’ film. Kubra Sait struggles to give shape to her cop’s part. She is either scoffed by her senior (the toxic Dev in the first half) or bullied to the ground by the masculine screenplay.
The two supporting actors who stand behind Shahid’s Dev, Pravesh Rana and Pavail Gulatie, are effective. But Gulatie deserves more. He should be doing a lot more work.
Deva is not just ingeniously scripted, constantly throwing surprises at us and not for shock value or to prevent our attention from going to the phone; it is also technically par excellence. Amit Roy’s camera captures Mumbai in all its toasted-brown glory, traversing lanes and roads with no fear of crowd feuding.
The cop-criminal chases are wildly engaging. I am baffled by the film’s supercilious reviews. The same critics ravaged about the most mediocre movies in the past weeks. The disdain for Deva proves we are not quite ready for stories that go beyond the surface.
