पंजाब के किसी गांव में लोगों को लोन दिलवाने वाली एक लड़की दिल्ली आकर गुम हो जाती है। उस लड़की के घर में रह कर एक डेयरी फॉर्म में नौकरी करने वाला सीधा-सादा फतेह सिंह उसे ढूंढने निकला है। फतेह जहां जाता है, लाशें बिछने लगती हैं। कौन है फतेह? क्या करता है वह? फतेह इस लड़की को तलाश पाया या…! किसी खुफिया एजेंसी के रिटायर्ड एजेंट के किसी कारण से तबाही के धंधे में वापस आने की कहानियां खूब बनती हैं। बस इन एजेंटों के वापस आने का कारण अलग-अलग होता है। इस फिल्म में कारण है लोन देने के बहाने लोगों का डेटा जमा करना और उसके ज़रिए उन के बैंक अकाउंट खाली करना। इस फिल्म (Fateh) में यह तामझाम खूब फैला हुआ दिखाया गया है लेकिन यह न तो तार्किक है और न ही कायदे से समझाया गया है।

Early in Fateh when a strapping Sonu Sood, dressed in a sharp black suit, enters a large room full of cocky goons, he is told that there is no space for him inside. The 120-minute bloodbath becomes a metaphor for the struggle of the sincere actor to carve a niche for himself as a solo hero. Sonu has a booming voice and a body to own the big screen. However, in a bid to flex his muscles and serve his off-screen image of a saviour (during the pandemic), Sonu, who trebles as an actor, producer, and director, has bitten more than he can chew. Cinematographer Vincenzo Condorelli and action directors Lee Whittaker and RP Yadav combine to create the right pitch for a visceral action drama. But after promising to take forward the renewed interest in the classic action genre, on the lines of Animal and Kill, the adults-only film falls into a painful pattern where the plot refuses to thicken and emotions don’t swell enough to turn the theatre into a slaughterhouse.

You can tell when someone—especially an actor—is directing their first action movie. The craft is more impressive than expressive. Sonu Sood’s Fateh, starring himself, has telltale signs. For instance, there’s that ambitious mirror shot in the beginning: The hero looks straight at his reflection but you can’t see the camera; it then floats through the glass like a ghost. There are the over-excited transitions and snazzy editing. At least twice, shots of spilled blood cut to ketchup on a plate; a cop ordering a steamed momo cuts to a villain eating a momo (“my long-time weakness”); a victim opens his mouth to scream and you hear a honking car. There’s an interval slate that reads “Brace yourself, you’ll need this break”. A pointless overseas sequence is inserted only so that a Hans Zimmer-composed track can be flaunted. A random close-up of a henchman’s ear is seen seconds before his severed ear is served on a plate.