Udta Teer, starring Ayushmann Khurrana and Sara Ali Khan, attempts to turn Indo-Pakistani espionage into a farcical comedy. Reviewed by Arnab Banerjee, the film’s promising premise ultimately struggles to deliver sustained humour or narrative coherence.

Written and Directed by: Aakash Kaushik

Produced by: Karan Johar, Guneet Monga Kapoor, Adar Poonawalla, Apoorva Mehta, and Achin Jain

Starring: Ayushmann Khurrana and Sara Ali Khan

Cinematography: Harshvir Oberai

Music (Songs): Sachin–Jigar Score: Ketan Sodha

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

The enduring conflicts between India and Pakistan have spawned countless narratives, alternately celebrated, romanticised and vilified on either side of the border, depending on the prevailing political climate. These stories are often fuelled by hostility and nationalist fervour, yet paradoxically accommodate moments of affection, shared sentiment and enduring human connection. For unimaginative screenwriters, few subjects offer such an apparently inexhaustible reservoir of dramatic possibilities as the fraught relationship between these neighbouring nations. Divided by history, politics and ideology, India and Pakistan nevertheless remain bound by a shared cultural inheritance, their destinies intertwined in ways that transcend the animosities separating them.

An Unusual Twist on Espionage

For anyone wondering whether the espionage thriller has exhausted its possibilities for stories about undercover agents operating on prolonged assignments in hostile territory after Dhurandhar, here comes Udta Teer with a deliciously inverted premise.

In Aakash A. Kaushik’s directed comedy, the familiar equations of patriotism, deception and infiltration are turned on their head: a Pakistani operative has not merely penetrated India’s security apparatus but risen to the upper echelons of its counter-terrorism establishment. The irony is rich, the possibilities considerable, and the setup seemingly tailor-made for a satirical romp through the labyrinthine world of intelligence and counter-intelligence.

The film wastes little time establishing its central conflict. An operation in Kashmir, undertaken by an elite Indian anti-terrorism squad to apprehend the dreaded terrorist Azhar Masood (Mukul Dev), ends in humiliating failure when the quarry slips across the border. The setback leaves Vikrant (Ayushmann Khurrana) crestfallen, although his superior (Smita Tambe) magnanimously refrains from holding him entirely responsible. His colleague, played by Suhail Nayyar, is considerably less inclined to extend such indulgence. Doubts begin to fester, and the apparent failure of the mission acquires a more sinister dimension. Is there a larger conspiracy at work? Who, exactly, is Bilal Ahmed? And could the enemy operative the authorities are seeking already be ensconced within their own ranks, concealed behind an impeccably cultivated façade of loyalty?

A Mole Inside the Security Establishment

The answer, naturally, is Bilal (played by Khurrana), a Pakistani agent masquerading as Vikrant and operating with an audacity that borders on the preposterous. His cover is so thoroughly entrenched that he has become a trusted insider, enjoying professional credibility and the privileges of an apparently respectable domestic existence. His wife, Yamini (Sara Ali Khan), works in the Defence Ministry, lending his assumed identity an additional veneer of institutional legitimacy. Bilal is, in effect, the consummate infiltrator: a man whose greatest accomplishment is not simply deceiving his adversaries but persuading them that he is one of their own.

The extent of his deception becomes even more apparent when Burman (Rahul Bose), Bilal’s superior, begins to suspect that a mole has insinuated himself into his office. Rather than scrutinise Bilal, whose standing within the organisation appears unassailable, Burman entrusts him with the task of identifying the very traitor he is supposed to be hunting. The irony is almost operatic. Bilal is effectively commissioned to investigate his own duplicity, a deliciously absurd predicament that underscores the extraordinary degree of confidence he has managed to inspire. That the institution places such faith in the man undermining it from within is precisely the sort of contradiction from which a spy comedy might derive its sharpest humour.

A Promising Premise Loses Its Way

Yet Bilal’s machinations extend well beyond the confines of his official responsibilities. Alongside a couple of fellow Pakistani operatives, he continues to orchestrate clandestine schemes, operating in the shadows while maintaining the appearance of an exemplary intelligence officer. One of his most audacious manoeuvres involves engineering the escape of Pakistani terrorist Maqsood. But just as his elaborate double life appears to be proceeding according to plan, an unexpected complication throws everything into disarray: Bilal loses his memory.

It is an abrupt narrative turn that threatens to transform a carefully constructed game of espionage into an altogether more chaotic enterprise. With the architect of the deception suddenly deprived of access to his own secrets, Udta Teer finds itself poised between political intrigue, mistaken identity, and farcical confusion. Whether the film can convert this promising premise into sustained comic ingenuity remains the crucial question.

A Star-Studded Cast, Diminishing Returns

Khurrana has just the right mix of comic timing and agile body language to slip comfortably into the role of an agent. Sara Ali Khan doesn't have much to do, but she manages to look good. Among the rest of the cast, no one really stands out, despite the presence of an ensemble of actors, including Gulshan Grover as General Mir, Ram Kapoor as A. Q. Niyazi, Rahul Bose as M. D. Burman, Brijendra Kala as K. K. Shrivastav, Suhail Nayyar as Dhruv, Supriya Pilgaonkar as Sara Ali Khan's mother, Sandeep Anand as Shambhu, Raghubir Yadav as Imam, and Smita Tambe as Holkar. They all try to fit convincingly into this crazy narrative.

An Unusual Reversal, Average Execution

Although Udta Teer remains decidedly average in its overall execution, it nevertheless merits special mention for daring to invert the familiar dynamics of Indo-Pakistani espionage narratives. Here, it is Pakistan that outwits, outmanoeuvres, and outwits India at its own game, turning the tables on the country’s security establishment.

Admittedly, this reversal unfolds within the exaggerated, farcical confines of a fantastical comedy rather than any semblance of geopolitical realism, but it lends the film a mildly subversive novelty.