‘Mango Jutt’ needs an authentic story to match its star power

Some films waste your time; others leave you emotionally drained. Mango Jutt, produced by Hameem Productions, attempts to hold the audience’s attention with action, music, romance and comedy. But rather than building a compelling story around these elements, the film strings together familiar scenes that rarely come as a surprise.

Some films waste your time; others leave you emotionally drained. Mango Jutt, produced by Hameem Productions, attempts to hold the audience’s attention with action, music, romance and comedy. But rather than building a compelling story around these elements, the film strings together familiar scenes that rarely come as a surprise.

Faysal Quraishi plays Murad Jutt, a police officer who has not taken a day off in years. His routine is interrupted when his sister, Mariam (Ayesha Jahanzeb), calls from Lahore to tell him that her husband has died. She asks Murad to look after her three children while she travels to Dubai for work.

While Murad is in Lahore, his boss (Aijaz Aslam) assigns him to track down a major criminal. To do so, Murad must go undercover, adopting the identity of an ordinary man — an “aam aadmi”, as he puts it. The film’s title, Mango Jutt, plays on this idea.

Mariam’s children attend a school where the principal, Noor Jehan (Hareem Farooq), is asked to keep an eye on them. Noor is also Mariam’s friend. As Murad drops off and collects the children from school, he and Noor grow closer, and a romance develops.

Meanwhile, Mariam’s late husband’s business partner plots to take over the business and kidnaps, or plans to kidnap, the children. The film brings together action, dance, drama and romance — familiar ingredients that, on their own, do not guarantee a coherent story.

I went to watch the film with a friend and few expectations. As we sat through it, she whispered, “Wait for the Punjabi climax song.” About 10 minutes later, Farooq and Quraishi were dancing to “Ankhan Wich”. My friend then predicted the villain’s entrance, followed by a fight sequence. Both came as expected.

In short, the film is predictable.

Music interrupts the narrative at seemingly arbitrary moments. “Ankhan Wich”, for instance, begins at a mela, or fair, whose purpose and timing are never made clear. Several side stories also feel unnecessary, while the film fails to establish clearly how the kidnapper discovers that Murad is working undercover.

The dialogue is another weakness. Some exchanges do little to advance the plot, while a scene involving a mother complaining that a child speaks Punjabi appears designed to underline the film’s Punjabi identity without adding much to the story. The moment feels particularly out of place in an already disjointed narrative.

The dubbing, too, could have been better.

Shamoon Abbasi, Quraishi and Farooq are capable performers, and each brings a degree of craft to the role. Quraishi and Farooq have the screen presence and chemistry to carry a film, but even their star power cannot compensate for a weak script.

Mango Jutt may not be the best Punjabi film I have seen, nor the funniest. Perhaps it is aimed at audiences who enjoy the familiar pleasures of single-screen cinema: a straightforward plot, a few songs, romance and a fight sequence. But there is a difference between making a film accessible and assuming that a collection of predictable scenes will be enough.

What Mango Jutt needs most is a tighter script — one that connects its many elements into a convincing, engaging story.