Director:
Chandraprakash
Dwivedi
Cast:
Adil
Hussain,
Mona
Singh
This
Prime
Minister
cannot
speak
Hindi.
No,
he
is
not
female
and
of
Italian
origin.
Played
by
the
very
authentic
Kulbhushan
Kharbanda,
Mr.
Prime
Minister
in
Chandraprakash
Dwiwedi's
heartwarming
political
satire,
is
a
bearded,
canny,
suave
and
wily
patriarch.
Like
many
films
with
political
resonances,
Zed
Plus
conceals
to
reveal.
While
we
can
immediately
identify
the
politicians
and
their
party-based
manoeuvres,
the
script,
nimbly
knitted
into
a
powerful
parable
by
Dwiwedi
and
Ram
Kumar
Singh,
pulls
back
just
in
time.
So,
no
accusing
fingers
can
be
pointed
at
the
characters
for
being
too
close
to
the
cabinet.
Dwivedi's
movie
is
a
delightfully
homespun
take
on
the
politics
of
communalism.
The
location
is
a
dusty,
closely-knit
Muslim
town
in
Rajasthan
called
Fatehpur,
which
gets
an
unlikely
VVIP
visitor
in
the
English-speaking
South
Indian
PMA,
who
wishes
to
visit
a
'dargah'.
There
is
this
wonderfully
written
sequence
inside
the
'dargah',
where
the
custodian
of
the
sacred
place
explains
to
the
PM
through
his
right-hand
man
(K.K.
Raina,
as
capable
as
ever)
what
he,
the
PM,
must
do
to
please
the
god.
Here,
Adil
Hussain
plays
against
Kharbanda
with
a
remarkable
restraint.
Episodes
such
as
these
work
because
Dwivedi
has
cast
male
actors
who
blend
into
the
film's
freewheeling
yet
pertinent
fabric
without
much
ado.
I
wish
I
could
say
the
same
about
the
female
actors.
There
are
some
very
important
women
in
the
plot
who
appear
unconvincing
because
of
the
discursive
tone
in
which
they
speak
their
lines
and
the
make-up
that
they
wear,
and
which
has
no
business
here.
Feelings,
in
their
case,
are
not
about
the
spirit,
but
the
faces.
Also
lacking
is
a
tight
editing
pattern.
Very
often
the
effort
to
make
pungent
political
statements
outruns
the
need
to
tell
a
tightly-edited
story.
But
then
Adil
doing
a
complete
turn-around
from
his
wry
urbane
part
in
English
Vinglish,
tends
to
fill
the
fissures
in
the
fearless
frequently
loose-limbed
narration.
As
the
'puncture-wallah' who
suddenly
finds
himself
at
the
vortex
of
a
fierce
political
'tamasha',
Adil
gets
his
character's
personality
and
thoughts
from
the
script
to
screen,
losing
none
of
the
fervour
and
flavour
of
the
character's
reluctant
heroism
in
the
transition.
Adil's
Aslam
is
a
bit
of
a
horny,
dishonest
rogue.
The
sense
of
mischief
in
the
character
never
forsakes
the
plot.
But
the
plot
doesn't
make
excuses
for
his
shenanigans.
Before
the
film
is
over,
Aslam
must
redeem
his
conscience.
And
by
god,
the
character
does
a
fine
job
of
finding
his
bearings
in
a
world
where
morality
is
a
bankable
commodity.
Even
when
at
times
the
storytelling
becomes
less
than
engaging,
Adil's
Aslam
remains
watchable.
Mukesh
Tiwari
as
Adil's
belligerent
neighbour
also
contributes
a
pitch-perfect
performance.
Together,
the
two
actors
provide
a
delectable
illustration
of
the
Indo-Pak
equation:
warring
and
snapping
at
one
another.
But
at
the
end
of
the
day,
bhai-bhai.
In
the
rarest
of
rare
cases
does
a
political
satire
make
us
laugh
and
weep
so
unconditionally.
Zed
Plus
is
that
precious
work
of
art
where
every
actor
and
technician
gets
into
the
correct
mood
without
caring
about
who's
watching.
Tongue
wedged
firmly
in
cheek,
Chandraprakash
Dwivedi
delivers
a
trenchant
and
ticklish
comment
on
present-day
politics
where
individuals
get
sucked
into
exploitative
politics
more
by
will
than
force.
The
film's
locational
luminosity
is
unimpeachable.
It
is
ensconced
in
the
cinematography
and
art
work.
H.M.
Ramachandran
looks
through
the
camera
lens
and
sees
not
the
dusty
gallis
of
a
Rajasthani
hamlet,
but
the
spirit
of
ownership
that
makes
the
characters
occupy
the
ramshackle
space
with
pride
and
dignity.
Muneesh
Sappal's
production
design
is
not
so
much
about
design
as
intuition.
These
are
visuals
that
come
closest
to
describing
the
lives
of
Dwivedi's
characters.
You
may
not
agree
with
the
cheeky
politics
of
Zed
Plus.
But
you
can't
deny
its
integrity,
warmth
and
humour.