‘Rajagunj’ is the kind of movie I’d watch twice in a theatre—not just to enjoy the cinema but also to study its visual artistry. The film revolves around Pooja (Asha Magarati), who is sent from Kathmandu to a border town fraught with political tension to investigate the kidnapping of two boys. This straightforward case soon turns into a politically charged narrative that exposes state-sponsored violence and the oppression of the Madhesi community.

From the very first scene, the distinct cinematography will captivate viewers. It is gritty and authentic. Certain shots appear as if captured with a handheld camera, producing a shaky, immersive effect. This approach leads to an experience that feels less like a film and more akin to witnessing reality firsthand.

The movie presents Madhesh Andolan in a way that feels real. It showcases the frustration, anger, and desperation of the movement. The character’s expression reflects the chaos that engulfs their world, and even the weather plays a symbolic role.

The shots are filmed in gloomy weather, and the sky is grey. This gloom and grey mirror the unrest, the absence of peace, and the uncertainty that defines the struggle. This deliberate portrayal of the environment makes the tension almost tangible.

The movie has multiple layers that might go unnoticed without a laser-like focus. This is why I want to watch it again. One scene features a Madhesi couple who are refused Momo at a restaurant, despite their repeated orders. Momo, often informally regarded as Nepal’s national dish, is denied to them. This scene serves as a metaphor for the alienation and discrimination that Madhesis face.

Another moment of symbolism is the presence of a Fair & Lovely billboard in the background. This scene reminds viewers of the societal obsession with fair skin and the racial prejudice that marginalises dark-skinned Madhesis.

Likewise, a photograph of a kidnapped child sitting in an extravagant chair holds significance. As he is the son of a parliament member, it subtly comments on class disparities and the privileges of the elite.

When Pooja navigates a massive protest, she conceals her identity by donning a tiger mask. The mask, symbolic of power, signifies the strength she must gather to solve the case. ‘Rajagunj’ also captures women’s injustices in a male-dominated field. Despite Pooja’s exceptional skills and success in solving the kidnapping case, she is sidelined, and her contributions are overlooked in favour of her male colleague. Her batchmate, Madan (Dayahang Rai), has ascended the ranks while she remains stagnant. This is a frustrating reality for many women in male-dominated fields.

Beyond professional setbacks, Pooja’s personal life is fraught with emotional turmoil. Her father, bedridden and dependent on her care, openly expresses his disappointment that she is not a son. His words cut deep, “A son would care for me well.” Despite Pooja balancing both her career and familial duties, she receives little appreciation.

One of the emotional moments in the film is when Pooja, after maintaining an exterior of strength, breaks down in the shower. The contrast between her composed public persona and her private vulnerability adds depth to her character and makes her journey all the more human and relatable.

Mamata (Nikita Chandak) is another phenomenal character. Though soft and ‘feminine’, Mamata has a distinct archetype from Pooja; she is courageous. Mamata, being a Madhesi woman, faces a different set of challenges. In a conversation, Mamata tells Pooja that while Pooja struggles as a woman, she still holds advantages as a light-skinned, Nepali-speaking Pahadi. Mamata, on the other hand, must fight even harder for recognition. This conversation is a powerful commentary on intersectionality. It illustrates how caste, ethnicity, and gender compound systemic barriers.

What I appreciate most about ‘Rajagunj’ is its portrayal of female characters. Unlike many contemporary Nepali films, it gives them significant screen time. And, of course, Pooja is the heroine we’ve been waiting for—bold, intelligent, powerful and empathetic.

In the denouement, the film compels its audience to ponder difficult questions: What is truth? What is justice? Does solving a case equate to achieving peace? These philosophical inquiries set the movie apart from conventional thrillers.

Nevertheless, the movie has too much going on. It packs in a lot from the Madhesh Andolan, kidnapping, politics, discrimination, misogyny and more. With so many layers, grasping everything while keeping up with the film’s pace can feel overwhelming.

I wonder how much more enriching the cinematic experience could have been without censorship affecting the movie. Although the film has been showcased internationally, I am astonished that it is not getting enough (Nepali) audiences. Maybe it has something to do with our movie taste and reflects our still-developing appreciation for nuanced cinema.

All in all, I rate this movie 4 out of 5.

Rajagunj

Director: Deepak Rauniyar

Cast: Asha Magarati, Nikita Chandak, Reecha Sharma

Duration: 1 hour 48 minutes

Year: 2025

Language: Nepali