‘Satluj’ (2026) ZEE5 Movie Review - Honey Trehan Honors Jaswant Singh Khalra but Misses the Man

For years now, Honey Trehan has spoken publicly, in interviews, about Jaswant Singh Khalra's bravery and fearless spirit. Trehan's reverence for Jaswant is evident in his forceful, gushing admiration for this human rights activist who uncovered 25,000 illegal killings and cremations involving the Punjab police. Jaswant's courage stems from his steely resolve, and he deserves to be remembered for his meticulous investigation, his boldness, and his tenacious personality. In Satluj, Trehan successfully brings forth the potency of Jaswant's spirit through an effective performance from Diljit Dosanjh, who quietly dominates the screen. You see this man openly inviting a police officer to debate him; he confidently discusses his research in Canada with the World Sikh Organization and international human rights agencies; and he refuses to bend before corrupt cops even as they mercilessly torture him. It's evident why Trehan wanted to tell this story. It's not only relevant now; it will remain relevant for centuries to come. Jaswant Singh Khalra is one of those names that shouldn't be erased from the pages of history.

And yet, Trehan isn't able to fully flesh out Jaswant in this film. The director always remains distant from his character. Trehan is so blinded and absorbed by Jaswant's actions that he doesn't see the man behind the ideology. What motivates this otherwise ordinary bank manager to fight against injustice? In Satluj, Jaswant, lying awake in bed at night, says, "I'm wondering what Kirpal would do if he were in my place." Context: Kirpal is, or rather was, Jaswant's friend who was killed by the police for being a "militant." What was Kirpal like? What kinds of conversations did he and Jaswant have? How deep were those conversations, and what effect did they have on Jaswant? Without these specifics, we get a generalized view of a man who decided enough was enough and took matters into his own hands. Trehan sketches his relationships in broad strokes. At the police station, Jaswant argues that "a mother is a mother—be it a rebel's or a cop's," and this kind of basic humanism is precisely what exists between Jaswant and Kirpal, Jaswant and Kirpal's mother, and even Jaswant and his own family members.

When this common man decides to undertake an uncommon task, there is no discussion between him and his wife, Paramjit Kaur (Geetika Vidya Ohlyan), about the safety of their children or Jaswant's parents. They could hardly have been oblivious to the fact that they would be putting themselves at great risk the moment Jaswant decided to begin his investigation. Even when danger begins to knock on their doorstep in the form of policemen posted outside their home and a notorious cop named Surjit Singh Sugga (Suvinder Vicky) directly threatening them, there is no mention of the children's safety or any trace of nervousness in Jaswant's household. In one scene, Paramjit tells her husband that it's the first time she has seen him scared, but instead of checking the locks on the door, he performs yet another act of courage—he sleeps in the room where the policemen would find him first, preventing them from making their way to his wife and children. Even Jaswant's moment of weakness is portrayed as an act of bravery.

This renders Satluj not so different from those biopics that view their subjects as godlike idols. There is no room for human imperfections, as if those imperfections might somehow nullify the subject's contributions and achievements. Trehan doesn't imagine a complete personal or inner life for Jaswant. He simply sees him as a fighter. His lens is one-note, validating its own moral notions. The director further distances himself from Jaswant by depicting the character's awakening, inquiry, and disappearance through CBI officer Samudra Singh's (Arjun Rampal) voiceover, which recounts Jaswant's story with the blandness of a mechanical recitation: "this happened, then this happened, then this happened." Trehan seems to have pasted all his research onto the screen with an air of grimness. His filmmaking somewhat reminds you of Abhishek Chaubey's, who serves as one of the film's producers. Chaubey's films, like Udta Punjab and Sonchiriya, too, often feel more like exhaustive research projects than invigorating cinematic drama.

After Samudra's entry, Satluj falls into a stupor. Someone tells him that he doesn't have the depth to conceal his secrets, which is such an obvious line that it lands with a thud (this Samudra isn't deep, get it?). Trehan also tries to add some "color" through the scene where Samudra and his team go to a wedding to arrest an inspector, but you're never quite sure what tone he was aiming for. I want to say "comedy," though I'd also add that everything feels flat and feeble. In such instances, the film's solemn mood can always be invoked in defense of its failures. On top of that, Satluj has so much goodwill and enough echoes of the present that it will receive too much credit for doing just enough. All a movie needs to do is capture a specific, prevalent mood, and attention shifts away from its aesthetics and storytelling to its "importance." Such films will be hailed for being "brave" and "confident." This was true of The Kashmir Files and Jawan, and it's true of recent releases like Dhurandhar, Ikkis, Main Vaapas Aaunga, and now Satluj (meanwhile, something like Bandar, which is actually audacious, thrillingly challenges the audience, and makes them uncomfortable, rarely gets its due or the recognition it deserves from the masses).

None of this is meant to take away from the battle Trehan has fought over all these years. He deserves to be applauded for sticking to his vision, for not surrendering to the demands of the doltish censor board. Nonetheless, that vision isn't as imaginative, as risky, or as bold as the character it cherishes. The one moment when Trehan seems aware of the power of cinema is when SPO Kuljit (Jagjeet Sandhu) talks to Jaswant's ghost. This simple trick offers a fantastical view of subjectivity, infusing life into the phrase "haunted by the memories of the past." Satluj also opens with a chilling scene of brutality that begins so casually that it takes a few minutes to realize what's really going on. There's also a tense scene between Surjit and senior constable Satnam (Saurabh Sachdeva), where the former plays a game with his gun to decide the fate of the latter. These sequences, though, work in isolation. Trehan mostly submerges Satluj in a kind of dourness that signals "serious intention." Even the colors are drained of life; they are muted.

Vicky is an excellent actor, and his excellence is especially noticeable in Satluj. His Surjit behaves like a monster with ordinary citizens but turns almost quiet and deferential when talking to his seniors. That softness alone gives the character more dimensions, most of which Trehan leaves untouched. Similarly, Samudra's history involving the 1984 riots suggests something complex about him and his past, though, once again, Trehan doesn't bother exploring or expanding the notion. Satluj, then, is driven solely by Trehan's conviction that Jaswant was great, that he died for a great cause, which is indisputable. No wonder all you can do is submit to this film and passively agree with its ideas, which leap from the screen like bullet points waiting to be ticked off by viewers. Satluj is not that good a film, but given the current conditions, it will surely attain a prestigious status. Simply put, the subtle, creatively wrapped social commentary of Raat Akeli Hai: The Bansal Murders is better than the direct yet prosaic confrontations of Satluj. It's amazing that the movie is finally available uncut. On the other hand, it's also true that it ultimately doesn't amount to much. Given Trehan's relatively small filmography, it's fair to say that Satluj isn't really his best work.