'Inspector Zende' Review: A Retro Chase Filled With Comedy, Chaos & Manoj Bajpayee's Quirks

Bollywood cops are often painted in broad strokes, larger-than-life men who roar their way into the frame, throw criminals into the air, and leave the audience cheering with every dialogue. Inspector Zende rips that image apart. Here, the cop is not a swaggering superstar but a middle-class Maharashtrian officer who blends into the crowd, trips over his own undercover alias, and cracks a joke without even realising it. Manoj Bajpayee’s Madhukar Bapurao Zende is no vigilante, but that’s precisely what makes him unforgettable.

A Retro World of Imperfections

The film sets itself firmly in the 80s and 90s, a world before fancy technology and stylised swagger. This Bombay is crowded and messy, its police force underfunded and overworked, its lanes buzzing with noise and life. From rickety jeeps and smoky Goan pubs to neon signboards and retro cars, the detailing recreates an era that feels lived in rather than reconstructed. The humour that emerges from these imperfections, undercover names like “Rushi Kapoor” and “Om Raut,” clumsy disguises, bumbling constables, might feel dated in a modern setting, but here it belongs. And because it belongs, it works.

Comedy in the Middle of Crime

Chinmay Mandlekar, in his debut as director, takes the gamble of mixing crime with comedy, and it pays off more often than not. The film doesn’t mine humour through slapstick, but through awkward pauses, small errors, and the sheer absurdity of human behaviour. When Zende and his team fumble their way through undercover missions, or when the cops stretch their meagre resources to catch a cunning criminal, the comedy never feels forced. Instead, it reflects the reality of policing in that period, messy, flawed, but somehow effective.

Some of the film’s best moments arrive when Zende finally crosses paths with Carl Bhojraj. Their much-awaited confrontation in a Goan nightclub doesn’t explode into a brutal showdown but instead unfolds like an odd dance. Each punch and push feels almost choreographed, and at one point, the scene looks like a bizarre tango between cop and criminal. It is thrilling, absurd, and funny all at once, precisely the tonal mix the film is reaching for.

The Criminal Who Performed for the World

Carl Bhojraj, played with dangerous charm by Jim Sarbh, is more than just a murderer. He is a performer, constantly aware of how he looks and how others see him. The accent, the suave mannerisms, the flamboyance, all of it creates a character who knows he is always on stage. At times, the dramatics feel heightened, but that only adds to the sense of Carl as a man who thrived on deception and spectacle. His remark to Zende, that the inspector will only be remembered because of him, stings with irony. Decades later, his prophecy comes true in the very existence of this film.

If the middle act drags a little, the climax injects fresh energy. The custody battle between Goa police, Mumbai police, and Carl spirals into chaos, each side tugging at the criminal like children fighting over a toy. Doors slam, plans unravel, escapes almost succeed. It’s part thriller, part farce, and entirely entertaining. The staging here is razor sharp, with Mandlekar pulling off the difficult balance of comedy and suspense.

Performances That Carry the Film

At the centre of it all is Manoj Bajpayee, who once again proves why he is in a league of his own. His Zende is raw, restrained, and wickedly funny in the most understated way. Bajpayee has an unmatched gift for turning ordinary men into compelling characters, and here he does it with deadpan humour and quiet grit. Opposite him, Jim Sarbh slips into Carl’s skin with ease, his flamboyance making the character dangerously magnetic. Girija Oak as Zende’s wife adds warmth and heart, her tender worries about sending puranpolis to her husband grounding the film in simplicity. Bhalchandra Kadam brings impeccable comic timing, Harish Dudhade makes a mark in his scenes, and Sachin Khedekar adds authority as the no-nonsense DGP.

The humour, while refreshing, doesn’t always land consistently. Some stretches feel slightly dragged out, and the narrative occasionally loses steam in the middle. The music too never quite rises to the occasion, serviceable rather than memorable. For a film so steeped in period detail, a stronger soundtrack could have amplified the mood further.

Despite its uneven patches, Inspector Zende is a refreshing take on the cop-criminal drama. It doesn’t rely on slo-mo heroism or chest-thumping slogans but thrives on awkward silences, accidental humour, and the simple determination of a man who never saw himself as a hero.

With Manoj Bajpayee in top form, Jim Sarbh adding dangerous flamboyance, and a director who dares to blend comedy with crime, this Netflix release emerges as one of the most entertaining originals of the year.