‘Mardaani 3’ Movie Review: One Plus Two Does Not Equal Three 

By now, it’s clear that the Mardaani franchise — which revolves around supercop SSP Shivani Shivaji Rao (Rani Mukerji) and her patriarchy-smashing badassery — is known for its villains. Not unlike the other baddie-steals-the-show YRF action franchise, Dhoom. Unlike the Dhoom movies, though, the Mardaani trademark is that it handpicks relatively anonymous (male) talent and propels them into the limelight. Mardaani (2014) thrived on its slick and urban Wall Street-capitalist-coded mastermind; Tahir Raj Bhasin made quite the splash. Mardaani 2 (2019) pivoted to the opposite end of the spectrum; it relied on a light-eyed hinterland psychopath, gamely played by Vishal Jethwa. Given that these characters are largely created and written by men, it’s perhaps by design that they outshine the star of these movies.

The latest installment, Mardaani 3, chooses simple franchise math: 1+2=3. It has not one but two villains, and no prizes for guessing their features. The trailer introduced a female nemesis called Amma (an occasionally effective Mallika Prasad), a begging-mafia kingpin and a monster of a broken, misogynistic system. Amma is, however, a light-eyed hinterland psychopath. More importantly, her mysterious ally is introduced midway through in a twist that can be seen coming from so many light years away that the twist could’ve been a giant asteroid in a 1990s Roland Emmerich disaster movie or King Kong in its own movies. Yes, he’s a man, and yes, he’s a slick Wall Street-capitalist-coded mastermind. Unfortunately he’s not Tahir Raj Bhasin. And unfortunately, Mardaani 3 unfolds like simple math — dry, clinical, formulaic and devoid of subjectivity. It stumbles with its antagonists too, a big no-no, mostly because these personalities feel like reheated leftovers of the first two antagonists.

The premise of a hardboiled female cop chasing her sinister soil-born counterpart has a been-there-done-that ring to it (Delhi Crime 3? Daldal?); women’s safety and gender-based crime are the safest themes for a mainstream Bollywood landscape that’s running out of ways to scrutinise the country. This time, Shivani Roy makes her slow-mo Jawan-styled entry as an undercover mule who busts a drug-trafficking ring in the Sundarbans. She is soon summoned by her Delhi bosses to retrieve the kidnapped young daughter of a high-profile Indian diplomat. At the crime scene, Shivani’s Sherlock-core detective skills (“they climbed this tree because the ground has more leaves”) suggest that the girl and her friend — the poor caretaker’s daughter — were abducted by traffickers and not terrorists. It’s social, not political. She predicts every move of the crooks so easily that she’d definitely be able to tell that I ate a bad chicken burger four days ago (on the basis of the ‘evidence’ that I haven’t touched chicken since). The plot gets going, Amma is identified as the nationwide mafia head whose latest ‘victim’ is the girl, and Shivani’s wonky Maharashtrian twang finds purpose. She sees the photos of the missing girls and hears their fell-on-deaf-ears cries in her head.

In terms of its over-familiar storyline, Mardaani 3 does a few interesting things. The chance abduction of a diplomat’s daughter alerts her to a bigger racket (as it often does), but Shivani is repeatedly instructed by her Delhi superiors to focus on this one girl only. It’s not something that needs to be spelt out, but in one of her many taunts, Amma gleefully reminds Shivani that the invisibilisation of socially marginalised kids is exactly what she’s preyed on to expand her business. I like that Shivani’s conscience has consequences in this film; she wants to take Amma’s entire empire down, but her ‘duty’ hamstrings her. Her corporate-coded bosses keep scolding her; in a not-so-parallel universe, she’s an editor who isn’t allowed to report on anything except trending and VIP issues. The police uniform becomes an obstacle for Shivani, turning her into an uncaged avenger no longer shackled by an establishment.

As a dissenter, too, she’s more alive to the world around her; for instance, the name of the woman constable she takes under her wing is Fatima. It’s a fleeting but perceptive detail. Just like the scene where she clumsily slaps the face of a criminal when they finally come face to face; she can punch and shoot and kick like a seasoned pro, but her rage is so primal here that she attacks him in the only ‘gender’ language he understands. I’m not sure if it’s intentional, but it also works that Shivani Roy isn’t as competent in this film. For someone so reputed, she makes the most rookie mistakes — like not being able to tell that a video call is prerecorded (until it’s too late), or blindly trusting a new ally who gives off supervillain vibes from the very first frame, or even failing to protect one of her loved ones and underestimating the guts of her opponent.

But despite these touches, Mardaani 3 suffers from what I like to call the Mechanical Heroism Syndrome. The packaging is too visible, the protagonist is flat, the acting is directed at the audience rather than the characters within, the flashbacks are corny in a 1970s-masala-setup way, and the dialogue is performative. Mukerji’s rendition of Shivani Roy is more theoretical than lived-in; the character narrates her feminism and her male-hero-coded threats instead of conversing with others. I get that it’s the massier grammar of film-making, and that she’s doing what many male superstars get away with, but then it becomes just another movie selling and fetishising empathy under the guise of gender empowerment and activism keywords. There’s also an absolutely unnecessary evil-for-dummies subplot about ‘disposable’ Indian girls being used as medical test subjects (outsourced by the US, no less) for the greater good of science — which sounds like the sort of kooky garnish applied to disguise the the central narrative cliches. Since this is such an elaborate diversion, one of the morally solid characters briefly switches sides so that the entire scheme is duly explained to them (and us) in typical-mastermind style, only for this character to grow a conscience back and become a goodie a few scenes later.

Mardaani 3 isn’t a bad film. It’s just not very good, fresh, surprising or smart. It coasts through on hot air, rehashed emotions and predictable commentary. In other words, it’s more of a producer-driven template than a director-and-writer-fuelled one. Maybe that’s enough these days; simple math can do everything but lie. Maybe middling is the new fine. Maybe a movie achieving what it sets out to do is the yardstick; never mind that what it actually sets out to do is not impressive. If Mardaani 3 were a character in its own franchise, it would be the villain of Mardaani 4 and a flashback of Mardaani 5: a copycat killer looking for online virality and relevance in a culture that is desensitised to originality. What kind of villain, you ask? A light-eyed, hoodie-wearing, cross-dressing, psychopathic, hinterland capitalist. You heard it here first.