The opening credits of Deva attempt to capture the essence of Mumbai and Amitabh Bachchan’s stardom. However, the film begins with an awkwardly shot green-screen sequence where the protagonist meets with an accident and loses his memory—instantly evoking Jab Tak Hai Jaan. Director Rosshan Andrrews structures the narrative like a whodunnit, piecing together a mystery scene by scene. While this approach is fair, the first half proves to be a tedious watch, with abrupt character introductions, particularly of Pooja Hegde and Kubbra Sait, who are both underutilized. At one point, their sudden appearances make you wonder, “Tum Kab Aaye?”—reminiscent of Welcome. The action sequences lack consistency, with key characters being eliminated too easily, bringing to mind Yudhra and Siddhant Chaturvedi.
The film is a product of the current obsession with “mass” cinema, where flawed individuals are glorified for their exaggerated machoism. Shahid Kapoor, a consistently sincere performer, overplays his ‘intense’ and brooding expressions, which often substitute actual depth with quippy one-liners. His character is described as someone with sadupan (melancholy) and anger issues, but with a hidden innocence. In one scene, he even engages with a married woman—just for fun—bringing back memories of Kabir Singh, which remains his biggest hit. However, much of Deva feels hollow, failing to strike an emotional chord. When Hegde’s father is gravely injured in a blast, the film cuts to a hospital scene before even showing her reaction, diminishing the impact.
The makers have insisted that Deva is not a remake of the Malayalam thriller Mumbai Police. While the setting and language differ, the soul remains nearly identical: a man investigates his officer friend’s murder after returning to duty post-accident. The film repeatedly hints at the protagonist’s admiration for Amitabh Bachchan, but apart from two brief shots of a Deewar poster, this supposed homage feels empty. Disappointingly, Deva also fails to capture the vibrancy of Mumbai, as most scenes are clearly shot on a green screen. The only moment of genuine humor comes when the protagonist interrogates an elderly woman with hearing issues—reminiscent of Coolie No. 1.
The title Deva is explained in a rather forced manner: Kapoor’s doctor claims, “You were Dev-A before your accident, and now you’re Dev-B.” Hmm. The second half is relatively more engaging as the pace picks up, but it ultimately rushes toward an uninspired climax. The biggest letdown is the major twist, which replaces the vulnerability of the original film’s central character with a clichéd sermon. There are two possible reasons for this change: either the makers wanted to distinguish Deva from Mumbai Police, or the lead actor was hesitant to portray a queer character. Instead, the film leans into a highly stylized, glossy finish. Style hai babu Bhaiyaa, makers ka style! No points for guessing which film this line recalls.
