‘Santosh’ review: Indian cop corruption drama is under arrest

In British-Indian writer-director Sandhya Suri’s noir-tinged thriller “Santosh,” a police officer’s widow picks up her late husband’s badge. Sandhya Suri’s background in documentary makes this moody portrait a procedural of crime and a powerful critique of institutional abuse in India. An air of something that is not only carefully crafted, but patiently watched over.

In the wake of her husband’s death in the line of duty, a devastated Santosh (Shahana Goswami), a childless woman with no visible means of support in a sexist society (and socially despised and mean), struggles to find her own way. Face up to how unstable your situation is. Laws to boot). Financial relief comes from the most unlikely of sources: India’s “compassionate appointment” law, which allows a deceased civil servant’s job to be given to a surviving spouse. With nowhere to go in rural India, Santosh quickly traded in his traditional jacket for a khaki police uniform.

She’s a wide-eyed, cautious trainee, as you’d expect from someone suddenly thrust out of a domestic cocoon into potentially dangerous territory. She is also relegated to “women’s” cases, where the emergence of a gender-balanced police force seems most important. In some cases, oiled palms are all you need to deal with a wayward man. For example, if a girl complains about her bad boyfriend, she can get the chance to give him a little smack behind closed doors, if she pays the right price. But when the missing 15-year-old daughter of a poor, low-caste family dies, the clumsy and indifferent police come under pressure and bring in veteran female inspector Sharma (an excellent Sunita Rajwal) to oversee the investigation. Santosh notices when he comes. She is uniquely positioned to participate in sisterhood-led justice efforts.

Charismatic Sharma takes Santosh under his wing, and while her attentions feel ulterior, both Santosh’s self-respect and the case implicating a Muslim boy move forward. Still, in Suri’s scenario (drawn in the aftermath of the 2012 Nirbhaya gangrape that brought the issue of violence against women in the country to the forefront), another mystery to solve is a troubling internal situation. It’s a mystery. I wonder if something is getting lost with Santosh, too. The allure of her newly acquired status and authority becomes a troubling prism through which to view an unjust world.

After all, what is the cost of women’s solidarity and empowerment when the weapon of realization is an abusive system that invariably draws Santosh into a clubby, condescending and vigilante mindset? When her inner rage finally finds an outlet, in a scene that ends with a first glimpse (perhaps a little too neatly) of police-sanctioned violence, “Santosh” is nothing short of a tragedy of identity. Aiding this descent is Lennart Hillage’s cinematography, a dispassionate observation of confining darkness and dull daylight, not quite naturalistic, not quite noir.

As clinical as Suri’s direction is sharp, ‘Santosh’ has elements that keep it from becoming a slam-dunk classic. The film charts the path and makes a convincing case, especially about police groups, but sometimes at the expense of human drama. When you watch ‘Santosh’ you feel the undeniable power of insightful and resonant case studies. But fully understanding this character is a goal well beyond the scope of this intelligently crafted film.