4 stars out of 5 (excellent)
Director and co-writer: Vivek Agnihotri
Cast: Anupam Kher, Pallavi Joshi, Bhasha Sumbli, Darshan kumaar, Chinmay Mandlekar
Hindi with interspersed Kashmiri (English subtitles available)
Delayed NZ release 28/3/22
While this reviewer was not surprised by the contents of the ‘The Kashmir Files’ given the gory reality of Kashmir, what was completely surprising was the capacity and willingness of the authorities in New Zealand to delay the release of the movie in response to complaints about the risk of communal tension. Do we Kiwi movie-goers prepare ourselves now for more such movie release delays in cases of sensitive subjects?
As for the person reviewing ‘The Kashmir Files’, he or she suffers the same fate as the Kashmiri Pandits – damned if you go either of the two ways. Liking the movie is labelled hyper-conservative, disliking it is blackened as hopelessly pseudo-liberal.
Deciding it needs no Oskar Schindler to hedge its appeal, Vivek Ranjan Agnihotri's film is devastatingly direct about the real-life terror wave in 1990s Kashmir, involving murder, violation of women and destruction of property that forced hundreds of thousands of Kashmiri Pandits to flee their home region, where they had been living for centuries.
It is not perfect, with incidents such as the controversy-ridden 1987 state elections and the 1990 Gawkadal massacre left out, and neither does the film pretend to be a wide-ranging history report. But it latches on with tiger jaws on its two central concerns – the suffering of the Kashmiri Pandits, and the brutal butchery perpetrated by the terrorists.
Switching between the past and present and using snatches of beautiful-sounding Kashmiri language, the film shows the lives of Pushkar Nath Pandit (Anupam Kher) and his family who are forced to flee Kashmir due to the insurgency. His grandson Krishna (Darshan Kumaar) grows up in Delhi and acts as Pushkar Nath’s grandfather by educating him about the plight of the insurgents, while the actual elder grievously defends his community’s predicament. Krishna receives further tertiary education from the likes of Professor Radhika Menon (Pallavi Joshi) who paints the central government as the adversary.
Many have criticised Agnihotri, alleging that the film lacks balance and nuance. What these pundits may not realise is that balance and nuance were not salient features of the terror wave inflicted on the victims. If you were a shell-shocked Kashmiri Pandit suddenly forced to flee your home, it is unlikely you would think, 'Thank God for balance and nuance!'
The film does not criticise Islam – on the other hand, it fearlessly exposes the extremist hatred that hunts innocents in the name of religion.
While others have hesitated to display the imbrued fruit of the insurgency, Agnihotri is unflinching in showing the graphic nature of the violence (Warning: This film is not for the faint-hearted). Even though the film is nearly three hours long with measured pacing, I was surprised at how quickly the time had passed. For a star-obsessed film industry, 'The Kashmir Files' is a rare example of an issue-based film with no songs and no superstars grossing close to Rs 250 crore already from a Rs 15 crore budget – a game-changer challenging the mainstream Indian film audience to think differently.
Yes, there are flaws, in both plot development and sensibility. The fact that it takes so long to convince Krishna of the truth of the killings, and his poorly researched epiphany, are perhaps a representative of the age-independent WhatsApp bhakths. His eventual college election speech (powerful but tilting into cloy at the end) and the film’s last scene are strong on their own terms till the maudlin, crying background music comes along.
Anupam Kher is superb in revealing the terror-stricken grief, vulnerability and resilience of Pushkar Nath Pandit. Agnihotri makes a bold choice in casting his real-life wife, the experienced actor Pallavi Joshi in an unsavoury role – Joshi is excellently convincing as the conniving professor Radhika Menon.
Chinmay Mandlekar is fully effective as the devious terrorist-turned-politico Farooq Ahmed ‘Bitta’, while Puneet Issar portraying a shackled and frustrated chief of police is actually more persuasive than the more famous Mithun Chakraborty who is passable but jaded.
Udaysingh Mohite’s cinematography captures a distinct sense of being in Kashmir, along with bonuses of starkly beautiful aerial shots of snow-crusted urban locales.
Agnihotri is not interested in appeasing the whole town. He rips away the shawl of excessive political correctness and exposes the heart of suffering.
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U. Prashanth Nayak is Indian Weekender's film reviewer and regular contributor
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