Sarzameen

In Sarzameen, a stern military man allows his only son to be murdered by terrorists in Kashmir because… nation comes first or something. You often hear about parents who proudly declare that they are willing to sacrifice their children for the country, and perhaps Prithviraj Sukumaran’s Vijay Menon is cut from the same cloth as those folks. The only difference is that his son isn’t a soldier on the front-lines, but a child for whom he feels no love. Played by Ibrahim Ali Khan, the child’s name is Harman, and the only reason his father hates him is that he isn’t like the other boys; he’s timid, he can’t play sports, and he speaks with a stutter.

Kayoze Irani’s Sarzameen, comes in the long line of films that sacrifice a decent idea at the altar of inept filmmaking. It is one of those political films that props itself up to make a statement but lacks both the spine and the bite to articulate its politics. Kannan Iyer’s Ae Watan Mere Watan (2024) is a recent example, also backed by Dharma Productions, where the voice of the maker got lost in the chaos of commentary. But if Sarzameen is to be believed, Irani has no voice. This, of course, is not wholly true. Before directing his feature debut, Irani helmed one of the better shorts in the uneven Netflix anthology Ajeeb Daastaans (2021). There was genuine sensitivity on display even when aided by a persuasive cast. Four years since, nothing of that remains. Sarzameen could have been directed by a tree, and I still wouldn’t be surprised. Every frame of the film is dunked in staleness, and the dialogues are woefully clunky, like an AI is talking to another AI.

An upright army officer Vijay Menon, while being a caring husband to Meher, struggles to raise his son, Harman with the same compassion. When Vijay nabs two suspects in his pursuit of a terrorist, Mohsin, his son Harman is kidnapped. Torn between his motherland and blood, a conflicted Vijay is forced to make a tough choice, one that’s bound to have serious repercussions many years later. Prithviraj Sukumaran, in the shoes of Vijay Menon, is excellent as the stoic, tough father, hardened by circumstances. He infuses life and sincerity into the father-son drama with a tour de force act. The star receives ample support from Kajol, who returns to form in style with a memorable, crucial role, in what is like an antithesis to her part in Fanaa. Both the actors truly shine as performers.

Sulking sons, duty-bound fathers, and suffering mothers make for engaging Hindi cinema. This week, emerging director Kayoze Irani revisits familiar daddy issues with mixed results. Sarzameen’s basic premise reminds me of Ramesh Sippy’s Shakti, where circumstances force a father in uniform (Prithivraj Sukumaran) to choose between his son (Ibrahim Ali Khan) and his duty. Set in the picturesque political cauldron of Kashmir, the stakes get higher here when the neglected son stutters his way into the enemy camp led by dreaded militant Kabil (K.C. Shankar). As expected, the mother (Kajol) tries to be the connecting link, but a past that needs to be addressed remains unhealed, leaving wounds unresolved.

In Sarzameen (“beloved land”), an Indian army officer, Colonel Vijay Menon (Prithviraj Sukumaran), is tasked with ending violence in the Valley. The Kashmir-for-Dummies setting aids him. All he must do is “liberate Kashmir from the mysterious terrorist whose code-name is Mohsin”. It’s simple. But Vijay — that Angry Young Man who wears generational rage as his uniform — has a problem. And it’s not Kaabil (K.C. Shankar), the dangerous militant he’s just captured. Vijay has a son, Harman (Ronav Parihar), who stammers. His old-school masculinity cannot accept it; he is ashamed, despite daily implorations from his wife, Meher (Kajol). Naturally, Vijay’s mission reaches a point where he must choose between his abducted son and his country. The colonel makes his choice. (Lest we don’t get it, he acts out his thoughts — always). But it is not without consequences: eight years later, a seemingly radicalised young man named Harman (Ibrahim Ali Khan) returns to his parents. Is he the new Mohsin? Does his trauma matter? Is he cute? Where is his stutter?

Director Kayoze Irani, son of actor Boman Irani, might be a fan of the Hollywood action-thrillers set in the middle-east. It might be the reason why I was reminded of films like Zero Dark Thirty (2012), Body of Lies (2008) and TV series Homeland (2011-2020) while watching Irani’s feature debut, Sarzameen. These films/shows valourise and sympathise with American national security agencies like the CIA (Central Intelligence Agency) and the US armed forces. They have been criticised for (sometimes unintentionally) legitimising the American invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan, and characterising the locals in simplistic hues as barbarians and/or victims. It’s clear that Irani hasn’t grappled with the curdling reputation of such films/shows that inspired his debut, because he showcases similarly problematic politics in his own venture. It fits like a glove, of course. Divided by international borders, united by our effort to prioritise sleek, sexy thrills over nuanced, empathetic narratives.

There are three people, bound by blood, at cross-purposes in Sarzameen. An Armyman whose love for his country knows no bounds. His son whose weakness is hard for the strict dad to handle. And his (the Armyman’s) wife, whose love is divided. Who will win? The father or the son? In either event, will the wife win, or the mother? Sarzameen is yet another addition to the line of recent films which wears its patriotism on its sleeve. This Karan Johar production tries to add an emotional wallop, giving us the enemy without and a conflict within, and that layer should have helped this film become more than the run-of-the-mill productions we’re being besieged with these days.

Sarzameen, directed by Kayoze Irani and starring Prithviraj Sukumaran, Kajol, and Ibrahim Ali Khan, struggles to rise above its tired father-son conflict and predictable melodrama. Marketed as a political thriller set against the Kashmir backdrop, the film fails to deliver emotional depth or gripping tension. While Ibrahim Ali Khan shows promise in his role, the narrative is weighed down by clichés and implausible plot twists. The soundtrack by Vishal Mishra and Vishal Khurana, especially Aa Gale Lag Ja, is the film’s saving grace. Compared to nuanced family dramas like Udaan, Piku, and Kapoor & Sons, Sarzameen feels like an uninspired retread of worn-out Bollywood formulas. Ah, the Hindi film industry—forever suckling at the teat of generational trauma. And what better trope to flog than the threadbare baap-beta conflict? Not because it’s profound, but because it’s easy. Like instant noodles. Or, more accurately, an overused Dharma cliché.