It is a tricky one, right? A system exists so that people cannot behave willy-nilly. The restrictions placed with that intention, though, aren’t geared to handle emergencies that require quick action. But does that mean you glamourise the ones who break the process because they want to follow their intuition? It’s not really cool. Whether it is Maverick, Bond or Arun Katyal. But Yodha converts “not really cool” to “not cool” by focusing on the insubordination and how cool…and patriotic…it is.

The contrast between the protagonists and antagonists doesn’t work itself into chemistry that will make you worry for one or fear the other.

Yodha does try to balance it out, like any film of this genre, by showing an incident or so when the protagonist is reprimanded. But, then you are made to feel sorry for him, as if his misjudgement and hot-headedness are excusable.

And just in case you miss the parallel–you also witness unacceptable behaviour that succeeds in wooing the woman when done with boyish charm; where woman = audience, boyish charm = patriotism. Fortunately, this subsides as the film progresses only to show its face again in the climax. As if the tricoloured flares are bookends.

Yep, tri-coloured flares. Not only are flares being used as if they are sparklers at Diwali. They don patriotic hues. I shuddered at the thought of someone finding it cool and using it in real life. Would it be clearly seen from afar when the person setting it off is in deep trouble in thick green foliage on a bright sunny day, without CGI!? Oh, and Arun (Siddharth Malhotra) expects to use it at any time. This explains why he has it even after he has crash-landed and gotten off a plane empty-handed. How come he has them even after he was dismissed from the force? Never mind…note to self and you: Remember, we are suspending disbelief.

How else are we going to wrap our heads around fight sequences in the small spaces of an aeroplane be it a washroom or the cockpit? They are slickly choreographed. The snappy editing doesn’t take away from understanding who’s where and they are entertaining too. But, believable, they are not. After all, two people are making complex moves in what looks like an economy class airplane washroom which also has a cloth napkin! And then there is one scene in which Arun Katyal’s wheelchair-ridden mother is brought into the control room. Why? To see the show of possibly her son getting blown to pieces?!

Who am I fooling? No, there is no possibility other than the most obvious and predictable one. This is true right from the beginning, let alone the climax. A happy-family montage’s sole reason for existence is to serve as a contrast to the upcoming sad one.

Surprisingly though, the lead performances by Siddharth Malhotra and Rashi Khanna are relatively level-headed. But then the villains pop up and randomly turn into these eccentric caricatures. The contrast between the protagonists and antagonists doesn’t work itself into chemistry that will make you worry for one or fear the other. And I am unsure if the actors can be blamed for that.

But Yodha converts “not really cool” to “not cool” by focusing on the insubordination and how cool…and patriotic…it is.

That is true of the story and screenplay too. As a script, I can imagine the story reading well and being engaging. But on screen, some of the over-the-topness through slo-mo, loud music, etc take away from the story.

It then comes across as what the makers think will appeal to the audience rather than what makes sense within the context of the story. Then we are left with thanking them for small mercies like not painting all Pakistanis with one broad brush. This is true for so many Hindi films off-late. Decent-ish story; add a seasoning of nationalism because that is what you think the viewers want; take the ‘other’ side to make it look like there’s balance. The rest is everything that you can do to add to the melodrama.

– meeta, a part of the audience