Story: Set in pre-independence era, the film is based on the life of Gujarati journalist and social reformer Karsandas Mulji. The precocious youngster waged a battle against superstition and blind faith by exposing a religious leader (Jadunathji Brijratanji Maharaj) for sexually exploiting his female followers under the pretence of religious practices. This led to the landmark libel case of 1862.

Review: Based on a true story, unlike the impression given, the film isn’t a courtroom thriller. It’s a historical drama retelling the events that led to the court case fought in the British court of Bombay.

A contemporary of Dadabhai Naoroji and a staunch advocate for gender equality, women’s rights and social change, Mulji was in a way the pioneer of campaigns like the ‘Me too’ movement of today. Director Siddharth Malhotra takes a sincere but rather archaic route to honour his courage, contribution and legacy. The storytelling feels a bit too traditional. Picture an opening song leading to a shocking incident followed by an outrage. Sholay did this fabulously in the 70’s. The treatment feels hackneyed given the subject at hand. Things move at a glacial pace. The world building of the bygone era feels inconsistent and theatrical but since the film was shot during the pandemic, one can excuse the limitations.

What works for the film is its choice of fresh talent. These actors lend the story that purity of thought it seeks. Aamir Khan’s son Junaid Khan makes a promising acting debut. You can spot the rough edges in his tonality which tends to get a bit loud in parts, but he embodies Mulji’s spirit and mind perfectly. He brings that much needed innocence, optimism and uncorrupted passion for change to his character. He is likeable even in portions that could otherwise feel preachy. However, it is Sharvari Wagh, who breathes life into this otherwise one toned drama with her vivacious presence and spark. It is she who stands out the most. Shalini Pandey doesn’t get a meaty role to showcase her acting chops, but she is effective in her short but crucial character.

The biggest upset comes in the form of the film’s best but least used actor. A six-packed, stoic Jaideep Ahlawat as Jadunathji Brijratanji Maharaj is expected to conceal his rage with a stone-hearted, cold and callous exterior but the idea backfires. The actor who looks sinful in the getup, can very well deliver the intensity needed here but ends up looking like he is sleepwalking on a Bhansali set. His restraint feels misguided.

Despite the odds, what keeps the film afloat and relevant is the spirited performances of the newcomers and its fight against the bhakt culture. The story is important even today and courageous in its fight that dares to differentiate dharm from andh shraddha. It says loud and clear, ‘Naam se karm nahi, karm se naam banta hai’. Belonging to the Vaishnav community himself, Mulji’s fight for protecting the freedom of press centuries ago is more relevant now than ever. Telling people that they are wrong isn’t enough. Reforming and rehabilitation lead to real change. Maharaj’s story is inspirational and worthy of bringing in social awakening. Sadly, its insipid storytelling douses the fire of its premise.