Hansal Mehta’s Faraazis is a stirring examination of the rot that is corroding youngsters in the name of religious doctrine and is about fighting intolerance. The torch of faith that might lead the next generation out of the muck of bigotry must likewise be preserved.
Avoiding exaggeration, the story is based on a long night in July 2016 when five misguided youngsters stormed a high-end restaurant in Dhaka with weapons, bringing Bangladesh to a standstill and shocking the entire globe.
To protest the injustices done to members of their faith, they murdered foreigners and kidnapped citizens. Yet as the oppressive night wears on, we realise that these people are just bullies with half-baked views about the superiority of one faith, and they are out to flaunt them with machine guns.
Faraaz Hossain (debutant Zahan Kapoor), the affluent son of a powerful family and one of the hostages, is given a free pass by the militant group’s leader Nibras (Aditya Rawal). Faraaz, however, decides to stay with his pals. The main conflict of the novel is the conversation between the two. Faraaz agrees with the problems when the terrorist group’s leader asks him why he is blind to what is happening in Palestine or what the United States is doing in West Asia. He claims that the world is filled with many problems but questions whether this is the solution.
Without pandering to the audience, writers Raghav Kakkar, Kashyap Kapoor, and Ritesh have created a sense of gloom. The characters’ sophisticated language belies their blatantly archaic thinking, which makes for a disconcerting viewing experience. The prose cuts into an ideology devoid of compassion, whether it be the Hindu chef making sehri for the hostages before morning or one of the militants objecting to the use of perfume for nursing a hostage’s wound (since it contains alcohol and is thus against their faith). Yet, Nibras strikes me as a regular guy who still cares about people and has empathy for kids.
Writers Raghav Kakkar, Kashyap Kapoor and Ritesh have evoked a sense of doom without pandering to the audience. It’s unsettling to see since the characters’ sophisticated language conceals their antiquated viewpoints. Whether it’s the Hindu chef preparing sehri for the prisoners before dawn or one of the militants objecting to the use of perfume to treat a hostage’s wound, the narrative rips into an ideology devoid of humanity (since it contains alcohol and is thus against their faith). Nibras, though, comes across to me as a typical guy who still cares about people and has compassion for children.
We expect males to be born with strict ideals and the determination to bite the bullet from the cradle because of our exposure to terrorism-related films as children. It takes some time for us to absorb seeing a militant raised on Google (Sachin Lalwani) who oozes fake swagger and nevertheless harbours a fear of dying.
Then there is the reserved Faraaz, who discovers his voice at night. The writing is stunning since neither boy matures in an out-of-character manner. Cinematographer Pratham Mehta does a good job of supporting the writers by bringing the audience right up to the centre of the dilemma without being exploitative.
On the opposing side of the hostage drama are the unprepared yet determined police officers and concerned parents. Faraaz’s mother Simeen (Juhi Babbar) is the one who makes the most noise. She initially comes out as a spoiled bully, but as the movie goes on and she loses her privileges, we witness a helpless mother. Juhi makes her long-awaited return to the screen with a skillful performance that highlights the character’s bravery and grace. Her speech at the conclusion, which makes us think of her theatre training, makes us choke up. The layers of the night are increased by the right casting. Aditya is a revelation as Nibras, and Zahan captures Faraaz’s tone admirably.
Faraaz develops into a cautionary story along the way since religious chauvinism is on the rise in our own backyard as well, where hatred for others is reaching violent proportions. It causes the liberals to awaken from their safe slumber and take a position against the discussion between good Muslims and bad Muslims, which has been appropriated by those who support violence committed in the name of Islam. Faraaz doesn’t want to be a thrilling Friday blockbuster; instead, it is an ache that will gradually build on the astute.
