Vivek Agnihotri’s The Bengal Files, a 3.25-hour Hindi film rated ‘A’ by the Censor Board, delves into the harrowing communal violence of 1940s Bengal, focusing on the 1946 Great Calcutta Killings and Noakhali riots. Dedicated to “all victims of communal violence,” the film is a visually intense and emotionally charged exploration of a lesser-known chapter of Indian history. However, its disturbingly graphic imagery, gory violence, and over-the-top performances overshadow any attempt at nuanced storytelling, leaving audiences both shocked and divided.

The narrative oscillates between the 1940s and present-day West Bengal, weaving a tale of historical and contemporary unrest. In the modern storyline, a Dalit journalist, Gita Mandal, goes missing in Murshidabad, with suspicion falling on Sardar Hussein (Saswata Chatterjee), a local MLA from a minority community. His chilling declaration, “Batenge toh katenge (If divided, we will be cut),” echoes divisive rhetoric, stirring controversy. Another key figure, Maa Bharati (Pallavi Joshi), an elderly woman with dementia and survivor’s guilt, serves as an allegory for a traumatized Bharat Mata. Her younger self, Bharati Banerjee (Simratt Kaur), a law student, endures the horrors of the pre-Partition riots, including a brutal assault by Ghulam (Namashi Chakraborty), a character modeled on historical figure Gholam Sarwar Husseini.

The film introduces real-life figure Gopal Patha (Saurav Das), a butcher and Maa Kali devotee, who incites retaliatory violence, urging Hindus to “kill 10 Muslims for every Hindu killed.” Graphic scenes, including the beheading of a zamindar and a Sikh veteran being cut in half, amplify the film’s gruesome tone. These acts, set against cries of “Allah Hu Akbar” and “Pakistan Zindabad,” are depicted with unrelenting intensity, often feeling exploitative rather than insightful.

Also Read: Vivek Agnihotri Plans Legal Action for ‘The Bengal Files’ Release

Agnihotri infuses modern political commentary, particularly through Shiva Pandit (Darshan Kumar), a Kashmiri Pandit CBI officer haunted by the 1990s exodus. His investigation critiques vote-bank politics and illegal immigration, though the film’s heavy-handed approach risks alienating viewers. Pop culture references, like a goon wearing an Arijit Singh T-shirt or a Godfather-esque soundtrack, add a jarring levity, while phrases like “We the People of Bharat” and “khela toh wahi hai (the game remains the same)” feel repetitive and forced.

Ultimately, The Bengal Files raises valid questions about communal violence but stumbles with its sensationalist execution. Its polarizing narrative and graphic excess make it a film that provokes more than it enlightens.

Also Read: Agnihotri Defends Title Change Amid Controversy