Name: Daayra
Genre: Crime, Thriller
Released: 2026-09-18
Duration: 2 h 23 min
Rating: 6.4
Cast: Kareena Kapoor Khan, Prithviraj Sukumaran, Jitendra Joshi, Pragati Mishra, Biswapati Sarkar

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When a shocking act shakes society, the search for justice becomes anything but straightforward. As opinions collide, the truth is tested against law, morality, and public perception.

Daayra

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What happens when a person who is done waiting clashes with someone who keeps asking: why can’t people wait anymore? At the heart of Meghna Gulzar’s Daayra is this unsettling question, has our growing impatience, anger and obsession with urgency diminished our ability to think clearly? And when the machinery of justice moves too slowly, do ethics and morality become obstacles to efficiency? After all, life may not always be about following rules but about doing what we believe is right.
Known for exploring the dualities of society and human behaviour, Meghna turns this morally fraught premise into a slow-burn police procedural that examines justice not merely through the crime itself, but through the conflicting ideas of what justice should mean.The film deliberately avoids the familiar cops-versus-criminals template. Instead, it pits two senior police officers, both convinced that they are doing the right thing, against each other.
Ajooni believes the police must perform their duty within the boundaries (daayra) of the law. Raman on the other hand, is driven by a fierce sense of responsibility towards victims and their families. But where does justice end and vengeance begin? Is Raman acting out of conviction or is his anger clouding his judgment? That becomes the film’s most compelling conflict.
Yet, for a debate this morally complex, the argument against Raman needed greater depth. Ajooni’s position, that the police cannot become judge, jury and executioner, however heinous the crime is fundamentally important, but the screenplay does not give her enough intellectual or emotional ammunition to match Raman’s visceral appeal. Raman’s frustration is made tangible; Ajooni’s counterargument often remains confined to the principle of procedure.
The result is that the face-off between the two officers, while intriguing, could have been far more hard-hitting. The film needed to dig deeper into what happens when extrajudicial action, however satisfying or efficient, undermines the very system of justice the police are meant to uphold. What happens to accountability when the person enforcing the law decides which laws are worth following? These questions could have given Ajooni’s character greater force and made the ideological clash equal. Instead, Raman’s emotional argument occasionally overwhelms Ajooni’s legal and moral one, making the debate lopsided.
What ultimately elevates the film is its moral ambiguity. Daayra does not tell you whom to root for. It presents two competing notions of justice and leaves the audience to wrestle with the uncomfortable questions themselves. Can law and order stand a chance in an age of instant gratification fueled by public outrage and media trial? Can a system that takes years to deliver a verdict expect grieving families to keep waiting? And when the law appears inadequate, does that justify taking matters into one’s own hands?
The film also touches upon the contentious question of juvenile protection, particularly the debate that followed the handling of the juvenile accused in the Nirbhaya case. Should the law allow young offenders an opportunity to reform, or should the nature of the crime outweigh considerations of age and rehabilitation? Daayra does not offer easy answers.
In a sea of crime thrillers, Meghna’s slow-burn police procedural is not a conventional whodunnit, but a clash of opposing perspectives. Ajooni and Raman are two officers who believe they are serving the public yet fundamentally disagree on what that service demands. That ambiguity gives Daayra its edge, even if the screenplay could have pushed the ideological confrontation further. The premise is compelling, and Meghna translates its central argument into a gripping thriller without reducing it to a simplistic moral binary.
Prithviraj Sukumaran steals the show with a remarkably intense and restrained performance. He uses a polite smile to conceal the explosive anger simmering underneath, an anger seemingly triggered by the normalisation of crimes against women. It is a performance that makes Raman’s conviction believable without making his methods easy to endorse.
Kareena Kapoor Khan is pleasant, however, struggles to shed her quintessential Bebo persona. After the grounded restraint of The Buckingham Murders, she appears dramatic here, particularly in some of the dialogue-heavy moments, which sit awkwardly within an otherwise gritty and realistic film.
The actors playing Raman’s special squad, including Jitendra Joshi and Trupti Khamkar, are pitch perfect. Khamkar, in particular, gets a thrilling and brutal chase sequence that emerges as the film’s finest set piece. Kshitee Jog is equally effective.
Ultimately, Daayra is less interested in asking who committed the crime than in asking what we are willing to accept in the name of justice. It examines the uncomfortable space between law and morality, procedure and closure, patience and rage. It raises the right questions, even if its central confrontation needed sharper, more evenly matched arguments.

There is a line in Daayra that lands like a quiet punch. DCP Ajooni Kohli, speaking to her subordinate Vishal about a system that has failed a young woman, says, “System change hote hain Vishal, log nahi. Attitude kaise change karoge?” It is the kind of line that stays with you. And it captures, in one breath, exactly what Meghna Gulzar’s film is trying to do — hold a mirror to a system where the instinctive response to a girl not returning home is still, somewhere deep in the collective mindset, that the fault must lie with the girl.
Daayra has real things to say. The question is whether it says them with enough force.

The film opens with DCP Raman Kumar, played by Prithviraj Sukumaran, being celebrated. His team has shot down four men accused of brutalising and burning 24-year-old Ragini Poojari and leaving her remains near a Delhi highway. The public is cheering. There is also, a question mark – were these encounters real, or were they fake?

Into this, steps Ajooni Kohli (Kareena Kapoor Khan), from Internal Vigilance, who is handed the investigation into the encounter. She arrives in Suryapur with her team, starts working backwards through the timeline, and the film begins to unpack what actually happened - to Ragini, to the four accused, and to the police officers in between. The case seems to be inspired by 2019 Hyberabad gang rape and murder.
Daayra is not really about the encounter. It is about everything that came before it. A missing complaint that was never properly filed. A family asked to come back later, fill another form, go to a different police station. CCTV footage conveniently has a gap. By the time Ragini's body is found the next morning, the system had already failed her many times over.

That is where the film is at its sharpest. When Ajooni retraces those hours, the family's desperate visits to different police stations, the shrugs, the paperwork, the casual indifference, it is genuinely difficult to watch. And the film earns the anger it is asking you to feel.

Kareena Kapoor is solid as Ajooni – composed, precise and someone who does not waste time or words. The scene where she visits Ragini's family and listens to what those missing hours looked like is one of her quieter and better moments in the film. She is not playing a hero. She is playing a woman doing her job in a system she believes in, surrounded by evidence that the system does not always deserve that belief.

There is a potentially fascinating layer to Ajooni's character that the film introduces but never fully explores. Her father, played by Kanwaljit, a retired judge, was shot on court premises. Her faith in the judiciary is therefore not just in theory, it is personal and complicated. Does her father's fate make her commitment to due process stronger, or does it make her secretly furious at the very system she defends? Does she ever fear becoming like Raman? The film never really answers these questions and quickly moves on, and that is its most significant missed opportunity. Five more minutes given to that father-daughter relationship could have made Ajooni genuinely complex rather than simply principled.
Prithviraj Sukumaran is convincing as Raman Kumar, a man whose position is clear from the start and who does not pretend otherwise. He believes the system failed Ragini. He believes it will fail the next girl too. The film does not ask you to agree with him. It does ask you to understand him, and Prithviraj makes that possible without making Raman sympathetic in a way that lets him off the hook.

The more effectively Daayra makes you angry at what happened to Ragini, the easier it becomes to understand, emotionally, that why a man like Raman would do what he did. That is exactly the contradiction a film like this should be exploiting. Daayra knows it is there. It just doesn't do enough with it.


Daayra positions itself as a commentary rather than a thriller, and that is a choice the filmmaker has made. It is not interested in telling you who is right. It lays out both positions and steps back. The statistics that close the film — rape reported every 20 minutes, encounter reported every day, and only 23 per cent of rape accused convicted — make the argument clear.

But here is the problem. The film sets Ajooni and Raman up as ideological opposites from the very beginning. Their eventual confrontation at the airport, when she ambushes him on his return, should be the moment the film has been building towards. Their philosophies collide. Their personal histories matter. The audience is forced to genuinely reckon with both positions. Instead, the confrontation is subdued. Polite, almost — and it lacks the impact it needed.
For a film that has spent two hours carefully constructing this collision, the moment of impact barely registers. The cat-and-mouse tension that the investigation promises never quite materialises, and by the time the final confrontation arrives, the film has already told you where everyone stands. There is no surprise, no real test of either character's convictions, no moment where the ground shifts.

Jitendra Joshi, always reliable, does good work in a supporting role. Biswapati Sarkar, as Raman's senior, is used sparingly but effectively. Kanwaljit Singh as Ajooni's father is present in a few scenes but, as with the character itself, the material does not give him enough to work with. Kshitee Jog as Ragini's mother is brilliant. You can feel her pain.

Daayra is a film with the right instincts and genuine conviction behind it. Meghna Gulzar is asking important questions about justice, the judiciary and what happens to women who fall between the cracks of a system that was supposed to protect them. The procedural sections work well. Kareena and Prithviraj are both good. The film's anger at institutional failure is real.

But it holds back where it should push forward. The personal stakes of its central character are underdeveloped. The final confrontation doesn't land the way it should. And if you want your audience to wrestle with a difficult moral question, you have to make them genuinely uncomfortable first. But, Daayra doesn't quite get there.

The film is worth a watch, but may leave you wanting more from it than it is willing to give.



Meghna Gulzar studies the modus operandi of a pair of cops committed to justice in Daayra. While DCP Raman Kumar (Prithviraj Sukumaran) has no hesitation in playing judge, jury, and executioner, DCP Ajooni Kohli (Kareena Kapoor Khan) believes in the law following its own course.

A clash of this nature is not entirely new but in Daayra, it forms the centrepiece of Gulzar's storytelling where the worldview of two law enforcers is scrutinised in a straightforward, impartial manner.

What lends Gulzar's findings its complex appeal is, the more you mull on it, the more understandable their perspectives seem.

The Unchanging Scenario of Crime Against Women
At the centre of these ideological differences is the unchanging scenario of crime against women.

Though Daayra unfolds inside the fictional region of a Telangana-sounding Teerthana, its likeness to the 2019 Hyderabad gangrape and murder, involving a 25-year-old veterinarian whose charred body was discovered by the toll plaza and led to a much feted encounter killing of the accused quartet, is unmistakable.

Debated hotly back then for the ethical and moral repercussions of extra judicial punishment as well as delayed, deferred court trials and FIR filing lapses prompting such extreme measures in the first place, Daayra mediates on the need of the hour in its cops versus cops exploration.

'They just had to do their bloody jobs,' one of them says in a tone that's as frustrating as felt in the gut from a man disgusted by his own ilk.

There's valid cynicism among common folk, too, suspecting a sense of futility around an exhausted, loopholed legal system, which hurts more than it helps. We live in a culture of 'she 'invited' it upon herself' that will go all out to protect a minor or influential but does little to safeguard the interests of women.

It becomes fodder for the media tamasha, which gains by dramatising a victim's plight instead of shaming the perpetrators and suffering long-drawn-out trials with nothing but hopelessness in sight.

Meghna Gulzar grimly notes the media and society's perverse tendency to sensationalise the horrors Nirbhaya and Arushi underwent by turning them into buzzwords, or even worse, a brand.

Parallel Paths To Justice
But first, she builds Raman and Ajooni's persona as parallel tracks moving to and fro over a dense timeline as one reassesses another's actions over events of the past after a Special Investigation Team is set up by the Human Right Commission to confirm the truth about a planned encounter reported as retaliatory shootout.

Prithviraj's introduction scene shows him as an Avenger of sorts, receiving a hero's welcome for using brute force and taking the rapists to task, while Kareena apprehends a corrupt cop showering VIP treatment on a convict by treating them to spa services and avocado tikkis. Interesting how both make it a point to acquaint themselves with each other's temperament but don't meet right till the end.

Daayra, co-written by Gulzar, Yash Keswani and Sima Agarwal, lays out a board game of one move at a time as Ajooni methodically probes into the incident while Raman ensures his alibis are foolproof.

They are veterans of slippery grounds but there's a danger of monotony.

And Gulzar's non-linear narrative avoids it skillfully.

Flashbacks of Raman and his squad hunting down and detaining offenders through claustrophobic alleys and cramped homes against the backdrop of Diwali lights gives Daayra a raw, throbbing, electric texture.

Ketan Sodha's synthwave-heavy background music proves a perfect foil for its understated drama.

On the other hand, Ajooni's investigation is as systematic as her beliefs.

Confirming Team Raman's accounts and corroborating it with facts whilst recreating the encounter scenario doesn't quite have the sizzling energy or sardonic sharps yet makes its point without beating about the bush.

Character Depth And Performances
Ajooni's father (Kanwaljeet Singh) and Raman's wife (Anuja Sathe) do find a mention but their personal lives don't matter in the broader picture.

Unlike Gulzar's Talvar, to which Daayra's police-procedural comes closest to in soul, Raman and Ajooni remain emotionally aloof. Whatever objective Ajooni's forced subplot concerning her dad's judiciary woes is meant to achieve only winds up as a flimsy argument between its leads.

Gulzar notes the ineptitude within the system with wry humour in scenes of Ajooni's ongoing challenges -- expected to operate from rundown accommodation and zero amenities, delays in paperwork, and resistance from every corner. Raman's well thought out non-cooperation and Ajooni's unruffled reaction to it makes for an interesting fire and ice tussle.

When the scene of what transpired for these two ideologies to come into play finally unfolds, it juxtaposes the violence with the violation in such a spine-chilling fashion, it's almost unbearable to look at the screen.

Restrained Performances
Gulzar's restrained creativity spills on her actors as well.

As the cop doling out no-holds-barred justice, Prithviraj conveys a clarity that has zero doubt or remorse over what he does. Aggression of this extent could borderline on arrogance but Prithvi deftly tempers it down to righteous rage that justifies his actions as means to an end without glorying them.

Kareena has a tougher role.

It's a less popular, less crowd-pleasing argument she's endorsing even if she's not completely oblivious to the anomalies in the very system she protects.

As somebody not at the liberty to share her feelings, the actress does a wonderful job of withholding even as her eyes smoulder with anger on hearing the agonising account from the victim's family.

One of the most internalised portrayals of Kareena's career, her calm, sarcastic, solution driven cop creates a distinct space from the melancholic officer in The Buckingham Murders and hot-headed policewoman in Angrezi Medium.

Systems change, attitudes don't, she scoffs.

As the mother of the girl bearing the brunt of this reality, Kshitee Jog's devastated gaze haunts long after you leave the theatre. As do the choice of words of the rounded up suspects -- a nondescript lot whose ordinariness only makes the monstrosities they are capable of all the more chilling.

Daayra culminates in Raman and Ajooni's long awaited, tad underwhelming face-off.

What works is the gentle tone of their dialogue, which respectfully hears out each other's point of view yet holds on to one's style of taking the trash out. Its unresolved, noncommittal conclusion is exactly the sort of anticlimactic reality Daayra wants to bring our attention to. Neither justice nor revenge can undo the fate met by the world's Nirbhayas or Arushis.

Daayra, "a work of fiction based on a narrative of events available to the public at large", is set in an indeterminate city where the law of the land is prone to wildly contradictory interpretations
A police drama that upends generic conventions, Daayra spins around a core composed of the tropes of a thriller blended with the dynamics of a procedural focussed squarely on the essentials.  

Director Meghna Gulzar, returning to the domain of crime, inquisition and punishment that Talvar explored, adopts an aptly workaday storytelling style enlivened by dazzling editing.  

Crime-busters in Mumbai movies are usually men (and sometimes women) who are fast-talking, quick-on-the-draw individuals. The two Daayra cops are a world apart.  

They are as committed to the uniform as any law enforcer one has seen in Hindi cinema. One believes in instant results, the other is slow and steady. The contrast underpins the debate at the heart of the tale.  

Neither DCP Ajooni Kohli (Kareena Kapoor Khan) nor DCP Raman Kumar (Prithviraj Sukumaran) is given to gratuitous heroics or blustery bravado.  

To that extent, the dissimilar duo shares some traits with the policemen that Govind Nihalini created in Droh Kaal (1994) and Dev (2004), men who sought to strike a balance between thought and action, between certitudes and confusions.      

Raman tends to be on a short fuse. Although mindful of the pitfalls, he crosses the line when he is pushed to the wall. That indiscretion and his attempts to pass it off as a routine act of self-defence constitute the crux of the story.  

That is where the other DCP comes in, articulating a worldview that is far removed from Raman's.        

The two lead actors bear the weight of the film with admirable ease. With both in fine fettle, Daayra sustains its intensity and momentum as it ploughs back and forth between several lines of action: a gangrape, the police response to it and the subsequent internal inquiry into an encountered alleged to be fake.  

Two behind-the-camera stars shine just as bright. Without what the director, who is also co-editor and co-writer, and lead editor Charu Shree Roy (Killa, Chhichhore, Sitaare Zameen Par) bring to the table, Daayra wouldn't be the film it is.  

Together, they shape its captivating narrative rhythm. While they ensure that pace never flags, Kareena and Prithviraj, rooted in the film's relatable ambience, convey the inherent ambiguities and imponderables of a cop's life and work.    

Daayra, produced by Junglee Pictures and Pen Studios, plays out like a dual police procedural in which vagueness of purpose goes up against certainty of approach.  

The craft at its core, buttressed by cinematographer Saurabh Goswami's evocative lighting and nifty camera angles, captures in all its complexity the dichotomy of police ethics and excess amid the media clamour for instant justice.   

The conflicting perspectives, created with the aid of frenetic parallel cutting all through the film, define the film's primary purpose - separating truth hiding in plain sight from face-saving falsehood out to evade scrutiny.     

The screenplay by Sima Agarwal, Yash Keswani (the writers of Netflix's Accused) and Meghna Gulzar dives into the urgent duel between whatn is apparent and what is not and emerges from the depths with statements from both sides of the divide.   

The constant cross-cutting between separate but related events not only underlines the similarities between them - one heinous crime mirrors another - but also vitalises the film.     

Daayra, "a work of fiction based on a narrative of events available to the public at large", is set in an indeterminate city where the law of the land is prone to wildly contradictory interpretations.  

It revolves around two violent acts - one by a quartet of social malcontents, the other by a team of policemen charged with the task of bringing the criminals to book - and, equally, around a pair of separate investigations.   

Three post-interval chase sequences, heightened by hyperactive camerawork, are mounted in quick succession in a manner that sets the film apart from routine police thrillers.  

In the first, a policewoman overpowers a young man after being punched in the face in the first sequence. The next has a senior cop (Jitendra Joshi, who stands out in many scenes) grapples with slowing reflexes and is reduced to huffing and puffing. In the third, DCP Raman Kumar nabs his man undemonstratively.  

It's all in a day's work for this bunch of lawmen. They aren't in the game for brownie points. Raman, when questioned at a press conference, asserts that "the law has done its duty".   

But that isn't how Ajooni Kohli sees it. She the only daughter of an upright judge (Kanwaljit Singh in a special appearance). She has reason to be sceptical in the light of personal experiences but still believes that the law should take its own course.  

Raman Kumar, who has the tacit support of the police commissioner, lacks the patience to let weeks turn to months and months to years in the pursuit of justice.  

The events involving the two cops take place across three distinct times separated by only a few days in a microcosmic setting where dispensation of justice is influenced by those who wear the uniform and those that wield the power to deliver or deny justice. 

As the first two events play out and the follow-up unfolds, the film seeks to put in perspective the vulnerability of women in public spaces and the apathy of law enforcement agencies with direct allusions to the Delhi Nirbhaya gangrape case.  

With the action in Daayra set in 2019, the film also recalls the horror of the Hyderabad sexual assault and murder case of that year (as also its aftermath) without expressly mentioning it.    

A 24-year-old girl, a law firm intern, returning from work is raped and strangled to death. The investigation is led by DCP Raman Kumar, who is determined not to let the culprits take advantage of legal loopholes.  

Against the backdrop of widespread public euphoria and a bunch of PILs filed by human rights activists, DCP Ajooni Kohli launches an investigation.   

It is her investigation that the film opens with before it begins to glide in and out of prior situations that aren't chronologically or linearly arranged.  

Each sleight within the film's narrative frame tightens the screws in the battle between the rule of law and the propensity for instant tit-for-tat justice. What plays out psychologically and subliminally is no less important than what transpires on the physical plane.  

Daayra sees Meghna Gulzar, her editor and the two lead actors at the top of their games. There is a great deal to savour and absorb here. That is much more than one usually says about Bollywood police dramas.       

There’s a peculiar tendency to conflate the importance of a film’s subject with the quality of the film itself. The moment a film tackles a serious social issue, questioning its filmmaking can feel almost sacrilegious as though the gravity of the subject automatically lends the film depth. But an important issue does not necessarily make for a seamless film.

A film can be socially relevant and still be unconvincing. Meghna Gulzar’s Daayra arguably falls into this very trap. Don’t get us wrong. This isn’t a clumsy film. It has its heart in the right place. It has a solid intent. It wants to spark a conversation. It wants to unsettle us. But the problem is that much of it gets lost under the weight of its own aspirations. By the end of it, the intent fizzles out.
Daayra opens with a bunch of people taking to the streets singing eulogies for Teerthana police station’s DCP Raman Kumar. In a successful encounter operation, he along with his team had shot down four rapists, who had left 24-year-old Ragini Poojari’s charred remains near a highway in Delhi. But a different and dubious narrative erupts when Raman attends a press conference.

We soon learn that the encounter was staged by him as an attempt to channel his own rage towards the rapists, who had destroyed a young life and that this is the third time that he has done something similar. Human Rights Commission soon files a bunch of PILs and to get to the bottom of the matter, an SIT is set-up, with DCP Ajooni Kohli tasked with leading the probe.

Ajooni and Raman embody the opposing philosophies of justice. While Raman believes in an iron-fisted approach to justice, taking matters into his own hands, Ajooni represents the opposite of that. She believes in the judicial system and trusts the law to punish those responsible even if it turns into a time-consuming affair.

After killing the rapists, when Raman says that the law simply did its duty, Ajooni’s of the opinion that the police isn’t the law. And this ideological conflict is precisely what forms the heart of the story, or at least, that seems to be the intent of Meghna and her writers – Sima Agarwal and Yash Keswani. The problem is that this conflict remains more clearly stated than meaningfully explored.
Their opposing approaches often come across as a convenient narrative device rather than a fully developed moral debate. For a conflict this central to the story, Daayra needed to put these two worldviews under greater pressure, forcing both characters to confront the limitations and consequences of their respective ideas of justice.

In the backdrop, Ajooni is also dealing with the court proceedings following her father, a retired judge, was shot on court premises a few months back. Her faith in the judiciary to deliver justice for him gives greater context to and reinforces the ideology she now stands by. But this subplot too remains largely underexplored.

It’s also confusing as to why the characters of Raman and Ajooni, who are a part of a gritty, realistic and nuanced live-in world – are given a quintessential, template-like and starry slow-motion introductions. But credit lies where it’s due. Raman and Ajooni are cops who don’t belong to the larger-than-life Bollywood universe. They don’t defy gravity, they don’t represent brawn and they don’t roar.
It’s interesting that Ajooni is never masculinised in order to be taken seriously (unlike Mardaani’s Rani Mukerji). Ajooni remains distinctly feminine and it’s her softer choices, empathy and faith in the system that shape her strength and unyielding toughness. The writers deserve credit for proving that a woman doesn’t need to shed her femininity to command authority!

Daayra has its moments where it shines bright. In some others, it makes you uncomfortable. For instance, there’s a scene that showcases a graphic sexual violence – men taking turns to assault the body and the spirit of a 24-year-old girl. It’s gut-wrenching, heart-breaking, infuriating and deeply disturbing. Daayra also includes references to the juvenile perpetrator in the Nirbhaya case.

Based on multiple real incidents, the allusion appears to be designed to ground the story in a horrifyingly familiar reality, making its subject matter feel even more immediate and unsettling. Needless to say, this film is an urgent watch. This is a story that needs to be told, not just once, but again and again, until we stop looking away.

As for the performances, Prithviraj Sukumaran takes the trophy home. He underplays ACP Raman and his rage – towards perpetrators and lackadaisical cops, who turn a deaf ear to complaints about missing girls. He’s stoic, decides to not play to the gallery even during moments of defeat and helplessness and yet leaves an indelible impact.

But a weak link when it comes to characterisation is the lack of ambiguity, which also affects the film’s tension. Daayra makes Raman’s position clear fairly early on. Both Raman and Ajooni are straight-arc characters. Because of this, the film, instead of becoming a morally ambiguous cat-and-mouse dynamic, remains a fairly straightforward clash between two clearly defined ideas of justice.

Despite this, Prithviraj’s Raman shines. It’s Kareena Kapoor Khan’s Ajooni who ultimately bears the brunt of the writing. Kareena does a good job with the material she’s given. The film, however, does her a disservice. While the film invests a lot into Raman, the same attention isn’t extended to Ajooni. There is a noticeable imbalance in the writing.

She also gets a relatively less screen-time. By the end of it, you’ll find yourself becoming disproportionately invested in one character, which may not be the most perfect outcome in a film that boasts of objectivity. What also feels particularly out of place in case of Ajooni is the perpetual smile plastered across her face, almost as though she knows more than she lets on.

The smile seems to promise a layer of mystery and revelation that never really materialises. And then comes the much-awaited final confrontation between Raman and Ajooni. This is a scene where Daayra should’ve truly caught fire as the set-up had promised. Instead, their face-off is surprisingly muted. The pay-off is sadly underwhelming.

What should have been the film’s most charged and thought-provoking sequence ultimately lands with a thud. As for the rest of the cast, Kshitee Jog delivers a stupendous performance. She’s superb as the victim’s mother, bringing a heartbreaking vulnerability to a woman consumed by grief, fear, rage and helplessness. The fragility of her character is palpable in every frame.

For the most part, Daayra manages to turn its gaze towards the uneasy line between revenge and justice while also examining media trials. Its ideological clash makes for a compelling idea and it could’ve given the film a far more layered moral complexity. Unfortunately, it doesn’t always put those beliefs through enough consequences to make the debate truly resonate.

Gripping. Disturbing. Socially relevant... #Daayra rides on the brilliant performances of #Kareena and #Prithviraj, with director #MeghnaGulzar once again proving her mastery as a storyteller. #DaayraReview

#Daayra is intense and raises some pertinent questions... The build-up is slow, but once the plot thickens, you become a participant, not merely a viewer.

Meghna proves once again what an accomplished storyteller she is... She presents two diametrically opposite perspectives, refuses to take sides, and leaves the ending open-ended... Those seeking clear-cut closure may find the culmination unsettling.

The horrifying act, dramatic highs, and emotional undercurrents make #Daayra a gripping watch... That said, the film gets technical and talk-heavy at places, which could limit its reach.

Kareena is terrific – restrained, layered, commanding... Prithviraj is outstanding, conveying volumes through his eyes and body language.

Special mention for #JitendraJoshi, who is first-rate, and #KshiteeJog, as the victim's mother, who is simply superb.

Final word? #Daayra is a well-crafted, thought-provoking film, but the subject matter, serious treatment, and talk-heavy portions make it cater to a niche audience... Dependent on strong word of mouth to leave a mark.

Meghna Gulzar’s Daayra walks into a difficult conversation from the very first minute and refuses to make it the audience feel comfortable. The Hindi crime thriller follows DCP Ajooni Kohli played by Kareena Kapoor Khan, who is assigned to investigate an incident involving DCP Raman Kumar portrayed by Prithviraj Sukumaran and his team. Raman encounters four men accused of r*ping and m*rdering a young girl. While a large section of society celebrates the encounter as instant justice, questions surrounding the incident soon begin to emerge.

Ajooni starts examining every detail, making it clear that she is investigating an incident and not simply targeting her colleagues. What follows is a layered investigation that gradually moves beyond the crime itself. The film explores delayed justice, accountability, institutional power and the deeply uncomfortable question of whether those accused of horrific crimes should always be dealt with the established process.

What Works
The biggest strength of Daayra is its writing and the professional friction between Kareena and Prithviraj's characters. Meghna Gulzar, along with Sima Agarwal and Yash Keswani, constructs the narrative around a moral dilemma rather than a straightforward battle between good and evil. The film asks where justice ends and injustice begins. You may understand Raman’s reasoning while simultaneously questioning his methods, just as you can support Ajooni’s commitment to procedure.

Technically, the film remains controlled. The cinematography and editing serve the narrative rather than distracting from it, while the background score builds anticipation, tension, and heartbreak at the right moments. The screenplay also maintains momentum. Daayra does not spend unnecessary time stretching its central conflict. The search keeps moving, while the parallel journeys of Ajooni and Raman allow the audience to understand both characters. The film also builds towards a pre-climax that is extremely unsettling, making the horror of the crime impossible to dismiss as just another plot device.
Acting Performances
Kareena Kapoor Khan delivers a strong performance as DCP Ajooni Kohli. She brings authority to the character without turning her into the stereotypical aggressive cop often seen in crime dramas. Ajooni’s strength comes through her principles, restraint and dialogue, while Kareena effectively conveys the emotional weight of investigating such a disturbing case.

Prithviraj Sukumaran is equally impressive as DCP Raman Kumar. He gives Raman an imposing presence without overplaying the character. There is a quiet intensity to his performance, particularly because Raman genuinely believes in his approach to justice.

The supporting cast adds further depth. Kshitee Jog leaves a lasting impression with a performance that communicates pain and emotion even without excessive dialogue. Jitendra Joshi, Kanwaljit Singh, Achint Kaur, Anuja Sathe, Seema Azmi, and Biswapati Sarkar among others are effective in their respective parts and help create a believable world.

Final Verdict
Daayra is at its most effective when it refuses to tell the audience what to think. It presents law and morality as two forces constantly colliding, while allowing viewers to sit with the discomfort of both perspectives. The film does not glorify or condemn either side outright; instead, it examines the consequences of choosing one path over another.

Meghna Gulzar once again demonstrates her ability to approach complicated subjects with seriousness and restraint. Daayra is driven by a subject that demands conversation, but this time the filmmaker places the audience directly inside a moral conflict. The disturbing crime, the investigation and Raman’s actions eventually converge into a larger question about the justice people demand versus the justice the system is designed to deliver.

Ultimately, Daayra is a gripping and uncomfortable watch that stays with you beyond the end credits. Its most significant achievement is not providing an answer but making the audience question their own idea of justice. For viewers looking for a crime thriller, Meghna Gulzar’s film offers plenty to think about long after leaving the theatre.

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not reflect the official policy or position of Pinkvilla. No statement in this article is intended to defame, harm, or malign any individual or entity.

DAAYRA Official Malayalam Trailer | Meghna Gulzar | Prithviraj Sukumaran, Kareena Kapoor Khan |18Sep

DAAYRA Official Trailer | Meghna Gulzar | Kareena Kapoor Khan | Prithviraj Sukumaran | 18 Sep

Daayra(2026)