‘Deva’ movie review: Shahid Kapoor almost pulls off this wild version of ‘Mumbai Police’

Shahid Kapoor and Pooja Hegde in a still from ‘Deva’
| Photo Credit: Zee Studios/YouTube

After a long wait, we have a mainstream flick where the hero makes you forget the lapses in the logic of the screenplay as director Rosshan Andrrews mounts his Malayalam blockbuster Mumbai Police for the Hindi heartland, a decade after its release.

Among the current crop of Bollywood actors, Shahid Kapoor has the wherewithal to generate the wildfire out of the masala moments that recipes from the South spark. A rare breed in this generation who can be believable and lovable in the high register, Shahid excels in roles rooted in the duality of character.

Here he is a ferocious Animal in uniform who slays with style in the first half. Armed with the licence of daddy issues, as Dev, the star flaunts the angst-ridden charm of Kabir Singh and the chutzpah of Haider and mauls everyone who comes in his path for fun.

Someone who has turned his hunger into hedonism, Dev Ambre makes Singham and Simmba look juvenile. He is more in the league of Sadhu Mhatre of Ab Tak Chhappan —or Vijay, had he joined the force instead of the underworld in Deewaar — but he loves to carry his intensity on his sleeve. With apathy for the rule book, for him, “vardi (uniform) is the warrant” in itself. Yet, he doesn’t like to wear one, making Dev an interesting beast, in times, when the line between the cop and crook gets thinner. Early in the film, while dancing in a marriage procession, he says he dances for both sides, making his mental make-up clear.

Amit Roy’s cinematography puffs Shahid up for the Bollywood galleries waiting for a gladiator and Sandeep Ravade’s production design provides him a suitable arena to operate. After intermission, the storyline provides the actor with an opportunity to dial up his trademark innocence as Dev struggles to jog his memory to solve the murder of a fellow officer.

Written in 2013, Bobby-Sanjay’s story has withstood the test of time. The writing carries a layer of Deewaar and the juicy dialogues by Abbas and Hussain Dalal retain their bite till the denouement.

The 10-year rule of parties that hoist saffron flags means that when filmmakers have to show the corrupt side of power, the colour rubs off on the symbolism. Rosshan doesn’t hold his punches when it comes to portraying the relationship between rulers and the upholders of law, and for a change, the writers don’t other the Muslim character.

Having grown up without a father figure, Dev believes in brotherhood. He bonds with his colleagues Farhan (Parvesh Rana) and Rohan (Pavail Gulati). Farhan, as the Deputy Commissioner of Police and his brother-in-law, watches his back. Similarly, Deva gives cover to Rohan, the honest cop, who seems like a shadow of Shashi Kapoor’s character in Deewaar. When the three combine to finish a politician-criminal syndicate (Girish Kulkarni in yet another portrayal of a slimy politician), things take a strange turn, taking the action thriller into the zone of a psychological murder mystery.

Kubbra Sait and Shahid Kapoor in a still from ‘Deva’
| Photo Credit:
Zee Studios/YouTube

As the journalist, who can see the child in the brute cop, Pooja Hegde is impressive in the limited screen time that she has to play with. The rest of the supporting cast is not bad either. Parvesh and Pavail lend muscle to the plot, and Kubra is efficient as the female cop amidst the showcase of machismo.

Roy’s robust rendering of Mumbai offers glimpses of his early work with Ram Gopal Varma, particularly Sarkar, where the mundane becomes magical. The action sequences are impactful and add energy to the storytelling. Jack Bejoy’s background music is impactful without demanding undue attention, which is a relief these days.

However, while tweaking the original story, the makers resort to procrastination, stretching the middle and emasculating the climax. The shock value doesn’t add up in the adaptation, leaving a shining Shahid in the lurch.

Deva is currently running in theatres