The gobsmacking things that go on in Jigra, particular in its last hour, might have worked in a spy thriller. But we’re not in Mission: ImpossibleCourage Unleashed. We are in a Hindi movie, where we expect the creators to lay out the emotional bricks for the plot before leaping off the roof.

Why make a film about an unshakeable sibling bond and remix the Raksha Bandhan standard Phoolon Ka Taron Ka if you aren’t planning to wring out the tears? Where are the heart-tugging moments that convince us that when a young man is jailed in a foreign prison, his sister will move heaven and earth to rescue him?

Vasan Bala’s Jigra is a retooling of Mahesh Bhatt’s Gumraah (1993), itself ripped off from the Australian television series Bangkok Hilton. Jigra has the cool mien favoured by contemporary filmmakers as well as their elephantine memory for older movies and Hindi film songs. The Quentin Tarantino-style referencing, quoting and anachronistic use of music has worked well for Bala in the past, but in his new movie provides only needless padding.

Satya (Alia Bhatt) is fiercely protective of her younger brother Ankur (Vedang Raina). When Ankur is convicted of carrying drugs in a fictitious country, Satya straps on her invisible armour and devotes everything to saving him.

Hanshi Dao, which is a cross between Singapore and Thailand, hands out death sentences for drug consumption. The jail where Ankur is lodged is run by Landa (Vivek Gomber), a rulebook-thumping sadist who develops a strange obsession with Ankur. Gomber puts on his best Singapore English accent to play a jailer so fixated on Ankur’s execution that he isn’t bothered when the prison is burning down.

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Tenu Sang Rakhna, Jigra (2024).

Landa isn’t the only Indian in Hanshi Dao. Satya conveniently runs into Bhatia (Manoj Pahwa) and Muthu (Rahul Ravindran), who help her carry out a plan characterised by go-for-broke valour as well as utter preposterousness.

“The jail is impenetrable” is one of the many redundant lines in the screenplay by Bala and Debashish Irengbam. One eye needed to be on the pedal and the other on the clock to make the 155-minute movie fly past its incongruities, if not quite soar above them.

Instead, precious time is wasted on exposition. There’s more moist-eyed emotion in the terrific song Tenu Sang Rakhna, composed by Achint Thakkar and beautifully written by Varun Grover, than in Ankur’s flailing or Satya’s hand-wringing.

The overwritten, background music-heavy film has a scattering of strong character-building moments. Jigra has many discrete elements that work in isolation but don’t quite come together.

Satya and Bhatia have a lovely father-daughter relationship. Ankur strikes up an alliance with fellow inmate Rayyan (Ankur Khanna). The Ankur-Satya dynamic is harder to convey when one is behind bars and the other is on the outside. Where is the sentimental flashback when we need it?

Solid supporting performances lift the sluggish narrative. Manoj Pahwa, Rahul Ravindran and Ankur Khanna are all effective foils to the leads.

Alia Bhatt is convincing both as a smothering sister and a ninja heroine. Restless for action and impatient with the rules, Satya can’t wait to start blasting away – and neither can we. It’s a long wait, and not a fulfilling one either.

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Jigra (2024).