In Wazir, Farhan Akhtar and Amitabh Bachchan, is a reliably watchable but honestly an unusual thriller that simply isn't as shrewd as it should have been. There are many details to acknowledge in the film, especially the performances of the lead characters, and the abrupt untying of its plot but its pity that the film weighed down because of a messy script.
Akhtar and Bachchan play two men united in sadness and misfortune. Akhtar is ATS officer Danish Ali who lost his girl in a shootout, and was suspended from duty for completing an unapproved hit on the terrorist in charge of his daughter's demise. Bachchan is chess grandmaster Omkarnath Dhar (affectionately referred to as Panditji), who lost his wife and his legs in a misfortune, then his young daughter a couple of years after the fact.
Danish meets Panditji by chance, yet builds a solid bond with older gentleman who teaches him to play chess, and alludes to the game as a symbol for a larger plot. In this way both men offer one another some assistance with healing. Panditji organizes a compromise in the middle of Danish and his wife Ruhana (Aditi Rao Hydari) who isolated from him as of late. Danish, in the meantime, promises to examine Panditji's suspicion that his daughter’s demise wasn't a mishap, but the done by a regarded Kashmiri lawmaker (Manav Kaul) at whose home she worked. Up to this point, Wazir is gripping.
Director Bejoy Nambiar, working from a script by Vidhu Vinod Chopra and Abhijat Joshi, keeps things rigid and all around paced in the film's first half. There's authentic feeling in the discussion scenes between the two men, especially on the subject of adapting to individual misfortune. Bachchan makes a fine showing of conveying the film's brilliant jokes with required thrive.
Unfortunately, the moment Pandit’s story arc kicks in, the film begins to unravel. The death knell is rung when Neil Nitin Mukesh gets up strangely, hamming as though his life relied on upon it, and joined by a fluctuating, holographic picture of a flaring blade. It's an invasion of such irrelevance that you start to lose trust.
To be reasonable, the film doesn't totally crash in light of the fact because Nambiar stages thrilling action sequences, and because the commitment of his leading men never struggles even when the script does. Bachchan is exceptional as the battered senior, his eyes hiding a repository of grief and pain. And Akhtar, although saddled with a one-note part, brings unmistakable sincerity, his anguish palpable every time he’s on screen. Akhtar owns the screen with his compelling, wounded presence.
Manav Kaul is great as the inscrutable minister, and Aditi Rao Hydari leaves an impression as the delicate wife and mother attempting to adapt. Neil Nitin Mukesh and John Abraham, show up in little cameos however both are not especially important as an aftereffect of their recklessly carved parts.
Zindagi Mein Doosra Mauka Milta Nahi...Yahan Shatranj Mein Mil Jata Hai' as Big b says in the film, but after watching it feels like a 'Wazir' missed that chance to be a great thriller in Bollywood. It's one of only a handful few Hindi movies that could have profited from more run time.