Gumraah Movie Review: The Most Shocking Twist is That it’s (Occasionally) Fun

Director: Vardhan Ketkar

Story: Magizh Thirumeni

Screenplay: Sumit Arora

Cast: Aditya Roy Kapur, Mrunal Thakur, Ronit Roy

At some point, perhaps we will sit back and wonder what it was about pandemic life that led to three films featuring identical twins coming out in quick succession. (Are these the twisted, high-budget extensions of taking too many selfies and staring at the mirror during the lockdown months? Is the long-lost twin the imagination’s antidote to a sense of isolation? Do these twins who disrupt the status quo hint at a deep-rooted anxiety? Are they an externalisation of introspection? When the man in the mirror takes on a life of his own, does the reflection become reflective? Discuss.) For the present moment, the only relevant detail to note is that while Gumraah has none of the taut, grim chills of Iratta (2023), it’s significantly more entertaining and clever than Cirkus (2022). Who’d have thought the day would come when Aditya Roy Kapur would do better with a double role than Ranveer Singh? 

That said, Roy Kapur’s acting skills are not the reason Gumraah will hold anyone’s attention. It’s Magizh Thirumeni’s story that does all the heavy lifting. If you haven’t seen Thadam (2019), this Hindi remake is sporadically engaging because of a plot that revels in classic tropes of masala movies while also complicating them.

When a man is found murdered in his swanky Delhi bungalow, the police start looking for a killer who seems to have left no traces at the scene of the crime. The first breakthrough is made by police officer Shivani Mathur (Mrunal Thakur), who discovers the murderer was caught on camera by a young couple in the neighbouring house. In the background of a photo they took is the prime suspect, whom ACP Dhiren Yadav (Ronit Roy) recognises as a civil engineer named Arjun Sahgal (Roy Kapur). Arjun maintains he’s innocent, but he can’t explain the photo and it’s clear that a malevolent Yadav is delighted to have Arjun in his clutches. Soon after, a second suspect is brought to the police station. His name is Sooraj Rana. He’s a petty conman who has an uncanny head for various sections of the Indian Penal Code. He’s also a dead ringer for Arjun. What had seemed like a done-and-dusted case is suddenly thrown wide open. There’s no doubt one of these two men is responsible for the murder, but which one of them is the who of the whodunit? And why did he kill a man who was a stranger to him? 

Conventionally, the double role shows twinning characters with contrasting personalities. Thadam initially seems to follow that formula — one twin is the quintessential eligible bachelor, while the other is a thug. However, both the plot and Arun Vijay’s performance emphasise what the two seemingly disparate men have in common. Central to Thirumeni’s story is the idea that people are complex and everyone has shades of grey to them. Depending on the circumstances, good guys can go rogue and lowlives can prove to be heroes. Gumraah initially seems to be repeating the cliché of twins being opposites too, but it’s laced with hints that this is all an act. Eventually, the film begins to highlight the sameness between the two men’s ways of thinking. This is what leads to the most engaging bits in Gumraah, the bulk of which are in the second half.  

Even though there’s enough in this plot to hold your attention, the many cartoonish characters and stilted performances in Gumraah pose formidable challenges to the viewer. Ronit Roy, verily bursting out of the seams of his khaki, does a tough cop routine that quickly teeters towards parody. In most of her scenes, Mrunal Thakur’s attempt to depict a steely professional who doesn’t let her emotions show, leaves Shivani Mathur looking like a mannequin in a police uniform. Roy Kapur manages to be unconvincing as both Arjun and Sooraj, but so long as the two men are being investigated by the police, this feels serviceable because everyone knows they must be lying. It’s when Arjun and Sooraj drop their acts that Roy Kapur’s performance feels laboured to the point of feeling laughable. 

Sadly, wherever the Hindi remake of Thadam strays from the original, it only serves to weaken the storytelling. For instance, director Vardhan Ketkar begins Gumraah with a title card that reads “The Crime”. This is followed by the enactment of a murder — as though Ketkar and screenwriter Sumit Arora don’t trust the audience to figure out that a man stabbing another in the jugular, with a screwdriver, is a criminal act. Next, we get another title card that says “The Investigation”. Lo and behold, the police show up to — you guessed it — investigate the aforementioned crime. Perhaps Ketkar was hoping the fleeting shots of Roy Kapur standing bare-chested in the rain, setting his shirt on fire, would distract us from the dumbing down in the Hindi version. 

Ketkar doesn’t do anything to improve upon the contrived sections of the original story that stretch credibility. Instead, his unnecessary interventions include removing the character of an elderly con-woman, which is a shame because she’s one of the most fun characters in Thadam. She’s one of the two flawed women — the other is a mother who turns to gambling to supplement the family income — whom Thirumeni’s story doesn’t villainise despite their questionable behaviour. Instead, these women are viewed with tenderness and the kind of respect that is usually reserved for patriarchs and paragons of feminine virtue. The changes made in the Hindi version are suggestive of how little faith the industry has in its directors, cast and audiences. The Tamil original has its share of spoon-feeding, but next to Gumraah, Thadam seems sophisticated and subtle.

Incidentally — SPOILER ALERT — one of the key women characters in Gumraah is a film reviewer. While we don’t see her suffering through a Hindi remake of a Tamil whodunit with a double role, she is subjected to terrible violence in the film. Those inclined towards metaphors may well find themselves wondering if there’s a parallel between her ordeal and how it feels to be forced to sit through badly-written shows and films. However, perhaps the most tragic and self-fulfilling detail is that despite her holding on to the hope that he will show up and him looking as scruffily beautiful as ever, ultimately Roy Kapur’s character fails to save the film reviewer.