Directed by Abhiraj Minawala, Mardaani 3 stays loyal to the franchise's core, confronting crimes against women and children with seriousness and restraint rather than spectacle.
Rani Mukerji anchors the film with a lived-in, controlled performance as Shivani Shivaji Roy, supported by a cast that adds texture without distracting from the story.
The film's purpose lands, but unnecessary dramatisation, heavy music cues and narrative ambiguities blunt its overall impact.
There's a reason the Mardaani films have endured. They don't flinch. They don't soften their gaze to make the viewing easier. Mardaani 3 continues that tradition, placing crimes against children and women at its centre, and asking the audience to sit with the discomfort rather than search for relief. This is not a reinvention of the franchise, but it is a largely effective extension of what these films have stood for.
At the heart of it all is Shivani Shivaji Roy. Rani Mukerji returns to the role with a confidence that feels lived-in rather than performed. What works especially well this time is the character arc. The film allows Shivani the space to arrive at her anger instead of starting there. We see her observe, assess and absorb before she reacts. When the rage surfaces, it feels earned. It is not theatrical or designed for applause as a punchline. It is restrained, internalised, and shaped by what she is forced to confront. That slow burn gives the film much of its emotional weight.
The subject matter is heavy, but necessary. Mardaani 3 looks closely at child abuse, human trafficking and begging rackets without turning these realities into distant concepts. The film is clear about how violence against children, particularly girl children, is normalised through neglect and invisibility. It also underlines an important idea the franchise has always returned to—cruelty does not exist in isolation. Villains here are not presented as aberrations. They are products of systems, poverty, power and long-standing social rot. The idea that a villain is made, not born, is woven into the narrative, giving the film its most unsettling edge.
Structurally, the film is a fairly well-packaged Bollywood crime drama. The pacing remains brisk, the investigation unfolds steadily and the narrative keeps moving without relying solely on shock value. The emotional core, especially the anger born out of crimes against girl children, is handled with sincerity for the most part. There is also a clear commentary on women born into poverty and the cycles they are forced into, often without choice or escape. The film does not shy away from this reality, even when it becomes uncomfortable to watch.
Where Mardaani 3 stumbles is in its tendency to overstate what is already clear. Certain moments are pushed harder than they need to be, as if the film does not fully trust its own material. The dramatisation of the plot often feels unnecessary. Similarly, the use of religiously coded background music to underline empowerment feels forced. These cues don't deepen the emotion as much as they interrupt it. Silence, in several instances, would have carried more power.
There are also deliberate ambiguities around character loyalties and moral positions. While this appears to be a conscious choice, it creates confusion rather than complexity in parts. The audience is left wondering whether the uncertainty is thematic or simply a narrative loophole. The film also attempts dark humour at moments where sharper writing could have made it land more effectively. As it stands, those beats feel tentative and slightly undercooked.
Performances do much of the heavy lifting. Mukerji remains the film's spine, delivering a controlled and fierce performance that never slips into caricature. Mallika Prasad brings a striking presence to her role, even if the decision to place her in the narrative early on softens the dramatic tension one expects from a cop drama.
Prajesh Kashyap emerges as a quiet surprise. His role is written to unfold gradually, and the film is careful not to announce him too loudly. There is a sense of restraint in both the performance and its placement, allowing the character to register without explanation. It is a choice that works in the film's favour and rewards patience.
Janki Bodiwala, as a young officer, holds her ground confidently. Sharing the frame with Mukerji is no small test, and she passes it with conviction. The supporting cast adds texture to the film's world, even if a few characters feel underwritten.
Technically, Mardaani 3 keeps things grounded. The production design behind creating the film's world remains believable. The background score supports the tension but occasionally overreaches, especially when symbolism is spelt out instead of allowed to breathe.
Mardaani 3 may not be the sharpest or most restrained film in the franchise, but it remains a purposeful one. It speaks for those who are rarely heard, even when its execution falters. For viewers who value mainstream cinema that engages directly with social reality, this chapter is worth watching.
