Sector 36 2024 Movie Review
This is a gloomy week to be watching Hindi movies. The quality of the individual films may vary, but their subject matters are uniformly bleak. Out in cinemas is The Buckingham Murders, about the disappearance of a young boy in a UK town. Closer home, in Sector 36, Vikrant Massey is Prem, a strange name for the psychopathic butcher he plays. Beyond these two titles and the everyday onslaught of horrifying news, your only oasis of hope is Berlin, a moody, claustrophobic spy thriller set in the 90s. Car chases and explosions are scant, but at least no minors, as far as I can tell, are sadistically slaughtered in Atul Sabharwal’s film.
While it is not made explicit, Sector 36, directed by debutant Aditya Nimbalkar and written by Bodhayan Roychaudhury, takes inspiration from the 2006 Noida serial murders, famously known as the Nithari killings. Heavily sensationalised at the time, the case squirmed with accusations of organ trafficking, cannibalism and necrophilia. The two accused — a wealthy businessman and his domestic help — were put on death row for rape and murder, but, in 2023, the Allahabad High Court acquitted them, citing a lack of sound evidence and slating the investigating agencies for a shoddy probe.
It’s perhaps the contentious nature of the story that compelled Netflix to lend it a fictional slant. Several children and young women have been disappearing from Rajiv Colony, a vast, populous slum of migrants in Delhi. Since the victims hail from impoverished backgrounds, the cops are accustomed to turning a blind eye, including Ram Charan Pandey (Deepak Dobriyal), a Newton-worshipping sub-inspector who bows to the “system”. However, when his own daughter, Vedu, is nearly abducted by Prem (in a Ravana mask), Ram springs into action. His change of heart feels sudden and convenient — this, though, might be the point, underlining an Indian attitude to take command when calamity brushes close.
At once vague, violent and exploitative, Sector 36 offers no convincing analysis of the murders. The makers, it seems, parsed every strand of an incredibly murky investigation, then agreed to keep all possibilities open. Their reading of urban inequality and the plight of destitute children is to basically shrug and say, ‘Nobody cares’. Fatally for a crime thriller, this is a film of non-specifics. The scenes featuring Prem, alone in a large house, are an assortment of serial killer cliché. His slimy employer, Bassi, played by Akash Khurana, is a perverse transport baron who shuffles around in monogrammed housecoats. Weaker still are the digs at Delhi’s corrupt police apparatus: IPS, one character jokes, now stands for ‘In Politician’s Service’.
Saurabh Goswami was co-cinematographer on Pataal Lok (2021), which explains the slick dark look and mythology-fuelled imagery. ‘Man Kyun Behka’ wafts from old cassette players, a better sonic choice than the plinks and plonks of the background score. The mid-2000s are lightly conjured: A version of Kaun Banega Crorepati holds the nation in thrall, and, in one shot, we catch sight of a Nokia 6600, the precursor to an iPhone for most Indians back then.
There are flickers of campiness in Massey’s performance — he peers through the grills of a giant gate, baiting and taunting his enemy — that are diminished by Nimbalkar’s over-sincere telling. In one pivotal scene, Prem records his confession before Ram, in gratuitous detail, yet the exchange lacks the unsettling wickedness of Nawazuddin Siddiqui toying with Vicky Kaushal in Raman Raghav 2.0. A boring Deepak Dobriyal performance is a rarity, so in one sense, and in one sense only, Sector 36 is an event. It’s somewhat true-crime, and a lot of false notes.
