'Mirzapur: The Movie' is more character-flexing than telling an engaging story

If there was one show that was asking for a big screen treatment, it was Mirzapur. The desi hinterland iteration of The Godfather, with politics, violence, foul language, turf wars and dialogues that spread like wildfire on social media, drew an instant following. Season three was the weakest of the lot, so the makers knew what needed to be done to lure fans back. Cue: bring back Munna (Divyenndu).

Set in 2018, in what would still be the first season, a chunk of Mirzapur: The Movie is devoted to establishing the characters and indulging in some world building for those unfamiliar with dirty politicking in Purvanchal Uttar Pradesh. But the movie invariably is a reminder as to how Munna is the lynchpin, with much of the limited winning, funny moments all belonging to Divyenndu.

There’s one where he goes to collect a birthday cake from a bakery and ends up reprimanding the owner; another where he gets on the nerve of a politician by whistling his responses; and another one where he wants a facial only to discover that his nemesis beat him to get one. The braggadocio is on full display here, with the shenanigans and dialogues to remind of his status: “Jaisalmer ne humko dekha nahin hai (Jaisalmer hasn’t got a taste of me yet),” he says when a crucial deal will take him there.

But that’s the good part. Mirzapur often runs like a dummy’s guide on how to sit and sustain the throne, with plenty of maxims coming from businessman-gangster Kaleen Bhaiyya (Pankaj Tripathi). So much so that apart from being the big boss of Mirzapur, he may as well be the author and publisher of a book titled “Gaddi Ka Niyam (Dummy’s Guide to Power)”.

The writers do a better job highlighting that Mirzapur is not just a game of thrones but largely a drama featuring disappointed fathers and disgruntled sons. The sons—Munna and Guddu (Ali Fazal)—are seeking validation and affection of their respective daddies.

“Kaabil aulaad badi mushkil se milti hai; kabhi milti bhi nahin (Capable sons are a rarity),” says Kaleen Bhaiyya as he laments his misfortune at not having a worthy heir to the throne. With Tripathi and Divyenndu at the helm of this family drama, it generates both laughs as well as sympathy for Munna. This ability to shuttle between the two disparate emotions is where the film clicks.

But where Mirzapur particularly falls flat is with the romance, which is barely cooked to have any impact on the story. Shriya Pilgaonkar’s Sweety gets to do one dance and flirt a bit with Guddu while Shweta Tripathi’s Golu is given even lesser screen time. The actress who gets a definitive storyline albeit it reveals itself only in the last act is Rasika Dugal. It’s that rare instance when a character’s back story is laid out to help the show’s audience better understand the motivations of a key character. Sadly, others don’t get this attention.

Instead, a new character is introduced in Babban (Ravi Kishan), a drug dealer based in Jaisalmer, who allies with Kaleen Bhaiyya’s foes to get a stake on the Mirzapur throne. Kishan’s scenes, though, are largely with the supporting cast, with the actual face-off with key characters limited and left too late to create a genuine sense of threat or conflict.

Puneet Krishna’s dialogues have plenty of potential for yet again being inspiration for many a meme. “Chu**** hai yeh important nahin hai; hamara beta hai yeh important hai (That he is an idiot isn’t important; that he is my son is)” from Kaleen Bhaiyya immediately drew a spontaneous applause in the hall. There’s also depiction of characters’ aspiration with clever use of English in phrases like “win-win situation” and “self-assessment kijiye”. Even the use of Mirzapur’s trademark expletives here land; “Prachand chu****” is likely to catch on.

Guddu here is in a strange Incredible Hulk mode, ripping off his tee periodically to show off his ripped figure. Jitendra Kumar filling in for Vikrant Massey as Bablu gets little to make an impression. Director Gurmmeet Singh packs in familiar ingredients of shootouts, backstabbing, caste politics and raging youth to cater to the fanbase, but the songs—particularly the Punjabi hip-hop tracks that pop up—seem jarring to say the least. At three hours and 17 minutes, Mirzapur: The Movie seems more like an exercise in flexing few of its colourful characters than telling an engaging story.

Subscribe to India Today Magazine