Thar review: Anil Kapoor is in topnotch form, but the lead characters aren't satisfactorily realised

Anil Kapoor takes on the crime noir cop persona with the right balance of bluster and introspective turmoil in 'Thar', streaming on Netflix. (Image: Netflix)

Munbao, a torrid and monochromatic expanse of a village in the Barmer district of Rajasthan, bordering Pakistan, is the canvas on which writer-director Raj Singh Chaudhary mounts his ambitious film Thar. The setting is crucial to Thar. It is atmospheric like a noir suspense thriller, but its template is clearly the Spaghetti Western. In the 1960s, European filmmakers—mostly Italian filmmakers like Sergio Leone—pioneered this spin-off from the classic Hollywood Western which glorified America’s Wild West, by subverting some of its tropes. They replaced the deified cowboy and the American Deep South’s canon of valour and heroism with implosive cynicism, subtle Leftist messaging and morally ambiguous anti-heroes usually in the outback for revenge. The white sands and slippery rocky terrains of Thar is a perfect setting to recreate the genre.

In the way Chaudhary and his cinematographer Shreya Dev Dube use the setting to tell the story, the way in which they move from wide shots to extreme close-ups, the way in which electric guitar notes punctuate the lead man’s mental landscape and his physical movements in Munbao’s craggy, dusty vistas, Thar is unmistakably a genre film. Chaudhary externalises his characters’ connection and interaction with the setting with as much focus on the panorama and what it can evoke, as with some minute details of lives lived and destroyed.

Harshvardhan Kapoor. (Image: Netflix)

What holds Thar back from being a great genre—or mixed-genre—film is that its two lead men—Inspector Surekha Singh (Anil Kapoor) and Sidharth (Harshvardhan Kapoor) aren’t satisfactorily realised. Emotionally and morally, the two men at the centre, and the violence and retribution that their own battles potentially unfurl, are perfunctory—disproportionate to the promise that Thar sets up in the first few minutes.

Sidharth (Harshvardhan) is a monosyllabic man, a loner with a scuffed-up jeep who arrives in Munbao with a certificate from the Archaeological Survey of India to mine antiques from and around Munbao for selling in Delhi. The film is set in the 1980s. Sidharth is a mystery to most in the village. Villagers shot with a picture-perfect, exoticized Western-style gaze on Rajasthan, look at Sidharth with curiosity and suspicion when he infiltrates the home of one of a trio of men known to be drug peddlers from the borders to the North-Indian mainland.

Meanwhile, Inspector Surekha Singh, used to taunts from an IAS brag, is looking for an opportunity to imbue his life with a semblance of a meaning as the custodian of  Munbao’s people. So far, he and his only team member, a constable from the lower caste (Satish Kaushik), a proficient cook who hides his caste in his uniform, has been ineffectual in busting the drug cartel that operates within and around Munbao.

The three men that Sidharth pursues fall for his offer to be in business with him and accompany him on a breakneck jeep ride towards what looks like an ancient, weather-beaten fort right on the India-Pakistan border. The three men vanish form their homes, and Sidharth becomes a tenant in the home of one of them, Tanna. Tanna’s wife Kesar (Fatima Sana Shaikh), known in the village as an infertile woman, is drawn to Sidharth and a relationship between them brews, and then explodes. The moral compass in this story is the police inspector—how far is he willing to go in order to save himself and his village from violence and squalid exploitation, and how is Sidharth the key to giving himself that opportunity?

Sidharth is the classic cowboy. He brutalises with lip-smacking emphasis, but eggs the viewer on to believe, through silences and subtle shifts in facial expressions, that the violence is a means to an end—we aren’t sure till the climactic scenes whether that end is personal or for the larger good of this community.

Chaudhary’s portrayal of violence is similar—in nature, not in scale—to the way Quentin Tarantino, who has made unforgettable interpretations of the Spaghetti Western, uses violence: Turning us on with cruelties that set up an even bloodier vengeance. The basic mechanism of this kind of violence is this: A few bad men commit repeated atrocities against the innocent. This sets the ground for retaliation, because the good and their allies have reasons to take revenge. Violence becomes a moral tool and killing a moral victory. The audience feels assured in the display of violence. Sidharth hardly speaks, but his nails, axe, knife and hammer, are rapacious and out of control.

Fatima Sana Shaikh. (Image: Netflix)

Harshvardhan Kapoor is just three films old as an actor. After a debut in the dull reincarnation romance Mirzya in 2016, his screen persona—bland and unsure—matched the masked vigilante he played in his last film, Vikramatdiya Motwane’s Bhavesh Joshi Superhero (2018). The same masked identity persona works here to some extent. But since this is a character with mystery and is set up to reveal a secret and facilitate a twist at the end, Kapoor is woefully short of lending the imploding cowboy-like protagonist, stooped and sweaty, enough grist and charm. Anil Kapoor is in topnotch form and he takes on the crime noir cop persona with the right balance of bluster and introspective turmoil. Kaushik, as a man resigned to his fate, is effortless as always. Shaikh has terrific screen presence and her embodiment of Kesar, a fearful, oppressed woman, is the film’s most radiant character—radiant in her acceptance of her circumstances, and also in the way she sustains the hope, her senses, her body and her hopes to retain her spark.

The assured set-up, efficient genre recreation, technical brilliance and some effective performances make Thar an enjoyable watch. If only characters and their inner lives and motives were more pronounced and layered, it would have been a great, much-needed upgrade to the quality of Netflix’s Indian roster.

Anil Kapoor and Satish Kaushik in 'Thar', which released on May 6, 2022. (Image: Netflix)