FILM REVIEWS – SACHIN CHATTE
Film: Mardaani 3
Cast: Rani Mukherji, Mallika Prasad, Janki Bodiwala
Directed by: Abhiraj Minawala
Duration: 2 hours 17 minutes
Rating: * * 1 / 2
A third installment of a franchise headlined by a female police officer is an unusual and somewhat unexpected occurrence in Bollywood. Male-led cop films are far more common and commercially encouraged, with Singham being a prime example—boasting three standalone films and multiple crossover appearances. Shivani Shivaji Roy, in contrast, does not enjoy the same level of mass appeal or pop-culture visibility. However, the comparison between the two characters is inevitable, as they are built on similar foundations. Both are upright, rebellious officers who operate with uncompromising integrity and a near daredevil confidence. The key difference lies in presentation: Shivani’s strength is quieter, rooted in moral resolve rather than larger-than-life spectacle.
Rani Mukherji reprises her role as the determined and upright police officer, bringing familiarity and gravitas to the character. Much like the first film in the franchise, this installment once again tackles the grim and deeply unsettling issue of human trafficking, though the motivations and circumstances differ. The film opens with a disturbing sequence in which a teenage girl is abducted.Her younger friend attempts to intervene, acting on instinct rather than strategy, and is subsequently kidnapped herself. This scene effectively sets the emotional and thematic tone of the film, foregrounding the vulnerability of young girls and the ruthlessness of the criminal network involved.
The narrative gains urgency when it is revealed that the abducted teenager is the daughter of an ambassador. Using his influence, he ensures that Shivani is assigned to the case, immediately elevating the stakes. From here, the film maintains a brisk pace, with the investigation unfolding through a series of procedural developments. The antagonist is introduced with a flourish typically reserved for heroic entries—a slow-motion reveal that frames her as a formidable presence. Amma, played by Mallika Prasad, is positioned as the mastermind behind an extensive trafficking operation. She is responsible for the abduction of hundreds of girls and has scaled up her network as demand continues to exceed supply, a grim reflection of the film’s central concern.
The procedural aspects of the film are among its stronger elements. The narrative effectively highlights systemic inefficiencies, bureaucratic delays, and the uncomfortable police–criminal nexus that enables such crimes to flourish. While the broad contours of the plot are predictable, the film remains engaging due to its thematic seriousness and controlled pacing in the first half. Several supporting characters are introduced to flesh out the world—Fatima (Janki Bodiwala), Shivani’s subordinate, adds energy and competence to the investigative team, while Prajesh Kashyap’s Ramanujan is a young man who works with destitute children.
Unfortunately, the narrative cohesion built in the first half begins to falter in the latter portion. The pacing slackens, and a series of twists are introduced that feel more obligatory than impactful. The film becomes increasingly reliant on exposition, undercutting the tension it works hard to establish earlier. More problematically, characters who have behaved rationally and methodically begin to make questionable decisions, seemingly to push the plot toward its intended resolution. These moments of convenience weaken the film’s overall credibility.
One of the film’s more compelling scenes involves a confrontation between Shivani and Amma, in which the latter declares, “Har vardi ki keemat hoti hain” (every uniform has a price). The exchange attempts to articulate opposing worldviews—one driven by survival and systemic corruption, the other by duty and moral accountability. Although the dialogue is somewhat verbose, the scene succeeds because it avoids simplistic moral binaries. There is an unsettling plausibility to Amma’s arguments, even though nothing can justify her actions.
Shivani’s battle is not limited to defeating the antagonist; she is also fighting entrenched systemic failures. Rani Mukherji conveys this layered struggle with restraint and authority. Whether expressing controlled rage or navigating emotionally charged moments, she anchors the film with assuredness. Her performance elevates material that occasionally falters, fully realising the potential of the character. Ultimately, the film reiterates the urgent conversation surrounding the safety of women and girls in the country. While the subject has been explored before, its relevance remains undiminished, even if the film is imperfect.
