In 13, the laughably written, embarrassingly made serial killer “thriller”, Saleem Mairaj plays Hanif Khan, a tough cop with an impeccable 30-year service record. However, when we first meet him in the film (15 minutes too late, as per my assessment), he is on the verge of retirement.

Maybe, one deduces, Hanif has read the screenplay by Shaukat Ali Muzafar, Ammar Ahmed and director Nabeel Ur Rehman Lutfi, and decided to quit if his future has stories like this one here (who knows!).

Hanif is deputised to take over the case of a serial killer from two loafing cops played by Taqi Ahmed and Wahaj Ali Khan (not ‘that’ Wahaj). The killer’s targets are random and his modus operandi is even more so. He chops up his victims’ bodies and stuffs their limbs in suitcases for the cops and the media to find — but when he doesn’t get the opportunity to hack and slash, he simply poisons their pool water … pool water, mind you, that anyone can dive into.

Also, when he gets an opportunity, he leaves a black rose as his signature — a signature that is promptly forgotten forever after being mentioned in a scene or two.

13 feels like amateur hour running on steroids and even a talented cast is wasted in it

Hanif, smacking his head, pointing fingers and making bad deductions, eventually has a eureka moment by scribbling five basic facts on a piece of paper that everyone watching the film gets on the first go.

Laughing as if he’s untangled a mind-numbing puzzle — with text overlays of his deductions floating and fading in and out of the shot — Hanif makes the police force proud with his extraordinary detective skills by logging on to Facebook and looking at the victims’ picture albums and friends’ list — and lo and behold, a pattern emerges… though, by that time, a doctor (played with an unwarranted comedic touch), and three students are killed by the villain.

Hanif finds out that the bald serial killer, played by Adnan Shah Tipu, is nuts, and his reason for insanity is not a complex one — which, by the way, goes against Tipu’s portrayal of the mad man.

The killer’s motive, explained at the very beginning of the story, has a rationale that could have been explored further if the screenplay had been cleverly written.

On second thought: forget cleverly. I would take even ‘rudimentarily written’ screenplay with an appreciative sigh of relief.

13 feels like amateur hour running on steroids. Its inspirations are restricted to bare-bone ideas found in routine serial-killer thrillers. Save for long, uneventful scenes, half-baked ideas, unconfident edits, badly lit and framed cinematography (in low-light scenes, the noise is atrociously evident), and many moments where the sound effects are totally absent, there is little else here.

The seemingly long running time of two hours is trashed by the slurred, unsure development of characters. Ifrah Nabeel plays the token sensible girl cop who wears a white shirt with gun holsters, but doesn’t have much — if anything — to contribute to the story.

Taqi Ahmed and Wahaj Ali, on the other hand, are doubtful conceptions of a stilted imagination. One wonders (and keeps on wondering until the film’s end) whether they are serious, grey characters or comic sidekicks. They could be both, but that requires a clear-headed approach to the story, an appropriate character arc, conflicts, resolves, and scenes that lend both comedy and gravity to a sequence in that particular act of the narrative.

Mairaj, often a powerhouse who can do no wrong, gets three or so moments to tell you that he still has it. What he often has, however, may be contagious, so stand six feet away with a face mask!

Playing his scenes with too much or too little gusto, Mairaj’s portrayal comes off as a half-hearted rehearsal from an actor who will go full-force on the actual scene.

Tipu, meanwhile, goes full-force, as if his very life depended on that take. His lips tremble, his mouth grossly spits saliva (ugh!) and his body shifts gawkily — and then, when you least expect it, he flounces in front of the camera, breaking the fourth wall as if he knows that he is looking at the audience.

In more randomly placed dramatic moments, Tipu emits a pitchy, child-like voice that doesn’t gel with whatever he is doing. Even the insane — and actors playing the insane — have a motive behind their actions. This throttled tomfoolery is slapdash and confounding.

Blame Lutfi and the production for just about everything. The clash between Mairaj and Tipu was 13’s selling factor — as was the idea of an engaging story about a serial killer. Lutfi’s cast, though talented, is wasted … as is the audience’s price of admission in cinemas.

The film, 13, released by Metro Live Movies, is playing in cinemas since September 29. The film has a ‘U’ rating, and is suitable for audiences of all ages … at least the censors think so

Published in Dawn, ICON, October 1st, 2023