Deva
Rating- ***1/2 (3.5/5)
Starring: Shahid Kapoor, Pooja Hegde, Pravesh Rana, Pavail Gulatie, Kubbra Sait & more
Directed by: Rosshan Andrrews
Produced by: Siddharth Roy Kapur & Umesh KR Bansal
Written by: Bobby-Sanjay, Hussain Dalal, Abbas Dalal, Arshad Syed, Sumit Arora
The pulsating beats of Deva aaplya marji cha maalik hai, the titular track from Deva, do more than just set the tone—they practically fuel the first half of this Shahid Kapoor and Pooja Hegde-led thriller. At the heart of it all is Dev Ambre (Kapoor), a rule-breaker, an unhinged yet good-hearted cop who defies every protocol and follows only his instincts. He is a law unto himself, exuding an erratic charm that treads the fine line between defiant swagger and deep-seated turmoil.
His incessant cigarette smoking and brutal takedown of criminals don’t simply establish his machismo; they lay bare his fractured self. And while the oft-repeated dil ka acha hai trope feels like an overused excuse, in Deva’s case, it somehow fits, making it easy to dislike him at first, only to be reeled back in by his complexity.
The film opens with Deva speeding through the streets on his motorbike, dramatically declaring, “I know who the killer is.” Before he can utter another word, he meets with an accident that results in partial memory loss. From here, the narrative rewinds, unveiling his unfiltered, volatile persona—a cop who seemingly fears no one and operates on his moral code.
His bond with his senior and brother-in-law, DCP Farhan (Pravesh Rana), and his closest confidant, ACP Rohan (Pavail Gulati), is cemented by a shared understanding of their brotherhood. But when Rohan is assassinated at an award ceremony, the question shifts from who to why, setting the stage for a high-stakes game of discovery.
For all the buzz surrounding Deva as a “masala commercial film,” it’s evident that director Rosshan Andrrews and Kapoor are not merely interested in a string of slow-motion shots leading to nowhere. There’s a genuine attempt to craft a gripping whodunit, but the challenge lies in the journey.
The first half, weighed down by indulgent pacing, lingers too long on Deva’s madness, making the film feel sluggish when it should have been razor-sharp. What could have been a taut, relentless mystery instead meanders, demanding patience from its audience.
The filmmakers have been adamant about Deva not being a remake of Andrrews’ Malayalam film Mumbai Police, but the reality is a shade more nuanced. It’s not a carbon copy, yet it borrows heavily—tweaking the structure, changing some plot beats, and revamping the climax. The who remains the same, but the why takes an entirely new and unexpected turn, setting it apart just enough to justify its existence.
If there’s a sense of déjà vu, it’s because Dev Ambre’s unhinged energy echoes a certain Kabir Singh-esque demeanour—an observation many will inevitably voice during the first half. But the true shift, and indeed the film’s real substance, emerges in the latter half. Gone is the erratic Dev A; in his place is Dev B, as the film’s doctor aptly puts it.
Kapoor delivers a knockout performance, embodying this duality with masterful finesse. If Dev A was chaos personified, Dev B is a man unmoored—clueless, struggling, vulnerable, and for the first time, even remorseful. Watching Kapoor navigate these contrasting shades is a treat, reinforcing why he remains one of the most compelling actors in mainstream cinema.
However, the film is guilty of overindulgence. Bloated with filler sequences, it stretches itself thin over a 156-minute runtime when it could have thrived on a leaner, tighter edit. Some moments feel ripe for the 1.5x speed treatment without sacrificing any emotional or narrative depth.
That said, Deva doesn’t entirely disappoint. The cinematography by Amit Roy bathes the film in a bleak, atmospheric palette, while A. Sreekar Prasad’s editing and Anal Arasu’s stylishly choreographed action sequences add layers of technical finesse. The supporting cast, particularly Pravesh Rana, Kubbra Sait, and Pavail Gulati, seamlessly blends into the film’s world, bringing weight to their respective roles.
Then there’s Pooja Hegde. Cast as Diya, a firebrand journalist, she enters with an electrifying presence but is ultimately relegated to the sidelines. Her arc—going from loathing Deva to loving him—feels woefully underdeveloped, her character robbed of the depth it deserved.
Worse still, her muted reaction to the near-fatal attack on her father, coupled with the film’s failure to explore her potential, is another glaring case of a female lead getting the short end of the narrative stick. Hegde does what she can with the material, flashing moments of brilliance, especially in her introductory scene, but the film never gives her enough room to shine truly.
Ultimately, Deva rests squarely on Kapoor’s shoulders. And when a film leans this heavily on its leading man, it can either soar or stumble. Deva lands somewhere in between—not a knockout, but far from a dud. The powerhouse performance from Kapoor, a gripping climax that delivers a jolt of surprise, and a soundtrack that pulses with adrenaline ensure that Deva is still a film worth watching. If you haven’t seen Mumbai Police, the intrigue will grip you. You’ll still find enough twists to keep you engaged if you have. Either way, Deva is a ride worth taking—flaws and all.
