A bunch of people felt duty-bound to see Saif Ali Khan in a police uniform. The result is Kartavya.
Bhakshak director Pulkit’s new movie has a similar North Indian small town setting, a similar outrage – the exploitation of children by an authority figure – and a similar lone hero taking on a corrupt system. The Netflix release is a colourless tale of a khaki-clad braveheart, barely different from other films of its type, except for an illustrious cast and slick production values.
Jhamli police inspector Pawan (Khan) is tasked with protecting a journalist who is looking into allegations of abuse at the godman Anand Shri’s ashram. Two hitmen ensure that the journalist dies soon after setting foot in Jhamli. One of the killers, Harpal (Yudhvir Ahlawat), is a victim of the godman Anand Shri (Saurabh Dwivedi) and his enforcer Nirmal (Saharsh Kumar Shukla).
Pawan toggles between finding the fugitive Harpal and his own brother Deepak, who has eloped with his lower-caste girlfriend. Pawan’s father Harihar (Zakir Hussain) would rather be part of a mob bent on honour killing than protect his son.
Pawan’s double duty gives him something to do, apart from snarling at his boss Keshav (Manish Chaudhari) and playing the good-bad cop routine with the constable Ashok (Sanjay Mishra). Rasika Dugal, as Pawan’s supportive wife Varsha, is also handed a few scenes to justify her casting.
It does seem puzzling that Pawan is clueless about the social currents in his home town. He’s bursting with bravado and uprightness, but his inability to see what is groaningly apparent doesn’t help his case. It’s a credit to Saif Ali Khan that the 55-year-old actor not only passes as a 40-year-old character but also manages to keep a mid-scene snooze at bay through sheer charisma.
Everyone performs very seriously and earnestly in a movie whose screenplay, also by Pulkit, isn’t trying to be anything but… dutiful. Everyone except Saurabh Dwivedi, a popular journalist in real life who has trouble posing as a powerful abuser.
At least Kartavya has the good sense to wrap up in 108 minutes. There’s nothing more to say or show in a movie that’s utterly predictable and bereft of feeling.
