Vadh 2: A Compelling Moral Drama In The Garb Of A Whodunnit
Jaspal Singh Sandhu's Vadh 2 succeeds as a moral drama because, at its core, it remains a love story. The law and order only offer bricks to a narrative that remains inherently bent towards emotions.
Promo poster for Vadh 2.
Last Updated: 10.36 PM, Feb 07, 2026
HINDI FILMS have rarely been kind to the trope of ageing parents. Ravi Chopra’s Baghban (2023) could have been the clincher, but largely, narratives designed around them tend to underline their helplessness in the face of a heartless child. Jaspal Singh Sandhu and Rajiv Barnwal’s 2022 film Vadh reiterated this stereotype only to upend it, resulting in an engaging film that resorted to gimmicks without being engulfed by them. Four years later, there is a sequel that polishes the shortcomings and unfolds as a far more accomplished film.
Directed by Sandhu, Vadh 2 is a spiritual follow-up where the fundamentals of the original premise are retained. Shambhunath Mishra (Sanjay Mishra) and Manju Mishra (Neena Gupta), the ageing protagonists, reprise their characters, but the roles are different. Their Gwalior-based home in the first film makes way for a prison in Madhya Pradesh. More such swerves follow. There is an empathetic police officer, Ateet Singh (Amitt K Singh takes up the mantle from Manav Vij), a heinous criminal, Keshav (Akshay Dogra), and a girl called Naina (Yogita Bihani) who plays a pivotal role in the proceedings.
As an overview, Vadh 2 treads a familiar path, but the changes the film chooses to make within the ambit make all the difference. If there was a thrill to the crime and punishment kernel of Vadh, hingeing on the way an old couple almost got away murdering someone, then in the second iteration is imbued with a moral reckoning. The subjectivity involved in this is the film.
The film opens with a flashback. The year is 1994, and a young woman is imprisoned for killing two people. Cut to the current timeline, and the woman is still serving her sentence. Manju Mishra has spent most of her life in jail. Other inmates look up to her; she also has amiable ties with the female officers. There is also another man who is smitten: Shambhunath Mishra, a police constable, and a year shy of retiring. Early on, there is a lovely scene where they speak to each other with a wall in between. It reminded me of the telephone scene in Baghban, but done better. Shambhunath sneaks in things for her and has her number saved as “lottery”.
If the marriage of the old couple formed the centrepiece in Vadh, Sandhu rewrites it as love and pushes it to the side. It is a clever ploy that lends more urgency to the proceedings without drawing attention to it. Things pick up when a new jailer, Prakash Singh (the ever-effective Kumud Mishra), takes the reins of the jail. Facing him is Keshav, a depraved man and brother of an influential politician (another link to the first film). He is introduced to a scene where he places two puppies near a car’s wheels (unnecessary); his eyes are roving (he spots Naina early on), and while the rest are scared of him, Prakash Singh is not.
The trouble starts when Prakash Singh is humiliated and beats him up mercilessly. The next morning, Keshav goes missing. What follows is a long-drawn investigation. Another officer, Ateet Singh, is brought in, and investigations follow. In any other film, this would have been the starting point of a whodunnit, but Vadh 2, bearing the imprints of its predecessor, remains committed to the central idea that killing is a form of retribution.
The moral complexity enlivens the film and the characters. Sandhu works well with details and refuses to hurry. Regular moments are given the space to breathe (in one scene, two police officers, Shambhunath and Nadeem Khan, are summoned for questioning, and the former says, “Jai Shri Ram,” and the latter utters, “Bismillah”). Ditto for characters. While Shambhunath and Manju inherit their moral compass from the first film, it is others who prove to be intriguing. Take, for instance, someone like Prakash Singh, an upright police officer, also a casteist man. Similarly, there is Ateet Singh, a thoroughly law-abiding cop who reveals to have his own morality.
The writing deploys these not to enhance ambivalence but build characters of the people on screen, making them more tactile. It only helps that the performances are uniformly effective. Both Sanjay Mishra and Neena Gupta have faces etched with history, and Vadh 2 is a great reminder of what both these actors can do with very little. Both bring unmatched pathos, lending subtext to their portrayals. But the revelation here is Amitt K Singh. The actor has an exceedingly interesting face, which aligns with a film that keeps cards close to its chest till the end.
If Vadh 2 succeeds as a moral drama, it is because, at its core, it remains a love story. The law and order only offer bricks to a narrative that remains bent, inherently, towards emotions. There is a recklessness to it, and a sense of private ethics much like two old people daring to envision a life together after spending a lifetime alone.