‘Jogi’ movie review: Finding humanity in the ashes of trust

Diljit Dosanjh has a knack for generating an emotional bond with the audience, but somehow he gravitates towards roles that are spotless, as filmmaker Ali Abbas Zafar revisits the 1984 anti-Sikh riots in Delhi

An engaging take on how personal animosity takes a political and communal tinge during riots, Ali Abbas Zafar’s  Jogi revisits the 1984 anti-Sikh riots in Delhi to tell a tale of friendship, betrayal, and greed for power.

Visually, Zafar, who is known for directing big-ticket films, manages to depict the carnage on the streets of Delhi after the death of Prime Minister Indira Gandhi, when an entire community was targeted and robbed of its dignity. Zafar looks for humanity amidst the ashes of trust and finds a tale of four friends.

When Jogi (Diljit Dosanjh) decides to save the people of his lane in Trilokpuri from the fire of communal passions, his friends Rawinder Chautala (Zeeshan Ayyub) and Kaleem Ansari (Paresh Pahuja) put their job and lives on the line to save the faith of their friend.

Rawinder, a police officer, plots an escape route even when it means going against the directions of the local Councillor Arora (Kumud Mishra) who sees a political opportunity in adversity. If Jogi has Rawinder by his side, Arora has sub-inspector Lali (Hiten Tejwani), the fourth friend who is nurturing hate for Jogi after a personal loss eroded their friendship, to carry out his agenda.

Drawing from real events, it could have been an interesting combination of fact and fiction, but the writers — Sukhmani Sadana and Zafar — fail to fill the gaps in between, and as a result, the transitions strike a false note.

Backed by a booming background sound, the idea of great escape prepares us for a thriller, but the way they negotiate the obstacles, the ride becomes too convenient to pass muster in the streaming space that demands more drafts than a Salman Khan tentpole. When the story goes into a flashback, the narrative gathers pace and belief, but the film never fully lives up to the gritty and gripping premise.

In the beginning, the performances remind us of the commercial films made in the mid-1980s when tears of glycerin worked. Drone shots don’t necessarily add depth to performances, and Jogi’s home and surroundings have the nuance of daily soaps. As a result, the pain of parting with the religious identity doesn’t seep through. But as the film progresses, the acting becomes a lot more compelling.