Rating: C+
Dir: Kashan Admani
Star: Osama Tahir, Paras Masroor, Zhalay Sarhadi, Naveen Waqar
This isn’t your typical Lollywood movie, and that’s probably a good thing. The film describes itself as “the first ever new age revenge crime thriller produced in Pakistan.” I’d not argue with much of that, except perhaps the “new age” thing. For this is heavily (and, to be fair, openly) influenced by the works of Quentin Tarantino – in particular, Pulp Fiction. I don’t think a movie largely inspired by a work over thirty years old, should be tossing around the term “new”. Of course, there’s also my habitual aversion to Tarantino-wannabes: QT himself is bad enough. However, there’s enough here which is of interest. And I must admit, I did laugh at the Tarantino-shaped car air freshener.
As that and the title suggests, much of this takes place in and around automobiles. Successful businessman Hamza (Tahir) is kidnapped by a gang of thugs, who are after some antique relics, stashed in a safe in Hamza’s office. Except, the victim has no clue what they are talking about, because these are heirlooms with a dark past, belonging to the family of his wife, Maria (Waqar). This alone would have made for an interesting plot, I’d have said. However, the script here pours on twists like they were butter-flavoured popcorn topping. Don’t like this one? No worries, there’ll be another surprise along in a minute. Just presume everybody here has a hidden agenda, and you’ll be right more often than not.
The Tarantino influence shows up particularly in a couple of ways. There’s a fractured timeline, bouncing back and forth from the kidnapping to reveal the previous history of each character. Some of these work; others are not particularly relevant. The latter would include the female gang leader Sasha (Sarhadi) getting molested as a child, and stabbing her attacker in the eye. It’s probably meaningful, that I was expecting the attacker to be Hamza’s brother or something. Such is the labyrinthine and interconnected nature of things here. There are also QT-esque speeches, on topics like the fine art of kneecapping, and Hamza goes full Shakespeare at one point, before violence. At least it’s not made-up Bible quotes. Oh, and some feet shots: I was amused by those too.
It doesn’t stint on the violence, and that’s a good thing too. The car in which Hamza is being held until Maria coughs up the heirlooms is the main setting, and is a nicely claustrophobic location for the unfolding brutality. However, it definitely feels like the repeated piling on of twists is an action of diminishing returns. The first is startling and impactful. But by the time you get to the end, you’re immunized against them through repetition, and your reaction may well eventually become closer to, “Of course it is.” Or, alternatively, you may simply start humming Culture Club lyrics in your head: “I’m a man without conviction/I’m a man who doesn’t know/How to sell a contradiction/You come and go, you come and go…”