I found myself tearing up a few times while watching Sriram Raghavan’s Ikkis. It’s not because of the film alone, which is based on the military service of India’s youngest Paramvir Chakra awardee, Second Lt Arun Khetarpal – who died during the 1971 Indo-Pak war. It had more to do with the Bollywood war film – a genre that has assumed the responsibility to rile up obvious jingoistic sentiments, thinking it’s the only way to make itself a successful enterprise. Raghavan is too much of a ‘thinking’ and a self-assured filmmaker to give into the temptations of the box office. We’ve also seen dozens of these idols exhibit feet of clay in the last decade.And yet, nothing prepared me for Dharmendra, while visiting his alma mater in Lahore, pointing at a picture of another past student Dev Anand and identifying him as ‘my senior’ – and proceeding to write notes in Urdu, as a modern, meditative take on a qawwali – one would normally associate with Coke Studio – plays in the background.A still from Ikkis.It’s a fairly straight forward scene, whose heft increases as one thinks about Dharmendra’s passing a month ago, and in an industry that has only recently, actively tried to dissociate with its Hindustani roots (where both Hindi and Urdu are undeniably foundational to the film industry’s culture). I don’t know if Raghavan is religious – but he worships Hindi cinema of yore. The recent attempts to erase the tehzeeb (manners) of the 50s and 60s Hindi films – I don’t imagine Raghavan sees them very kindly.Raghavan’s film is quite staid and even slightly awkward in the beginning while trying to find its feet. Under normal circumstances, it would count as a decent, par-for-the-course war film. It’s the external circumstances that lend more significance to the choices by Raghavan and by Arijit Biswas and Pooja Ladha Surti’s screenplay. In an economy, where it’s lucrative to preach war, dial up paranoia for neighbouring nations, and co-opt martyrs to feed the nationalistic fervour – the writers of Ikkis make quiet, resilient choices. Raghavan’s film realises most wars are pyrrhic victories. A martyr’s story is not meant to be a recruitment device, but a cautionary tale for a society that devours youthful idealism to fuel mindless never-ending wars.A still from Ikkis.Ikkis takes place in two timelines – Arun’s (Agastya Nanda) journey through the National Defence Academy in the late 1960s till his deployment during 1971 war; and his father Brigadier M.L. Khetarpal’s (Dharmendra) visit to Lahore in 2001, during ongoing Indo-Pak peace talks, where he’s hosted by Brigadier Nisar (Jaideep Ahlawat). The film cuts between these two timelines; about a boy romanticising war-time valour, and two middle-aged men grappling with its fallout.Nanda, who made his debut in Zoya Akhtar’s Archies (2022), isn’t challenged much. Portraying a boy scout, coming from certain privileges, isn’t far from his comfort zone. However, he’s surrounded by an ensemble of fine actors including Rahul Dev, Sikandar Kher, Vivaan Shah, all bringing a wryness to Nanda’s self-serious, golden-boy earnestness. To his credit, Nanda never gets in the way of the film. I was more affected by a fragile-looking Dharmendra and steely-eyed Ahlawat, and their engagement with much mutual respect. Ahlawat’s Nisar is the man who killed Arun on the battlefield, and it’s something he intends to tell Khetarpal Senior before the end of the trip, as a part of his penance — after being moved by the young soldier’s courage in the face of certain death.It’s a gracious gesture that seems to have emerged out of a time capsule, which has no place in the present context. At a time when both peace advocacy and level-headedness are seen as weaknesses, the mere mention of ‘Aman ki Asha’ (a peace initiative undertaken by the Times of India group and Pakistan’s Jang newspaper group in 2010) makes politicians and civilians scoff alike. However, it really did happen – a Pakistani army officer hosted an Indian officer, and expressed his regret about killing his son. If it sounds like a utopian gimmick, we must ask ourselves what’s the alternative we’re choosing.A still from Ikkis.Raghavan’s writing team embeds nuggets of observations around what a war film should be like. There’s a stray line about Arun talking about seniors censoring their letters before they’re sent out, a young Arun battle between loyalty for his house-mates and his duty. Then there’s Arun getting restless about being in reserves – Kher’s Sagat Singh warns Arun and other young tank operators joining straight out of the academy, never to go ‘searching’ for death. Vivaan Shah’s Mallu delivers the best lesson in humility to Arun, when he says that firing bullets doesn’t turn a boy into a man — picking up a pen to apologise to his girlfriend might.Raghavan grapples with old-school patriotism, where a boy lives his entire life by certain values, culminating in an hour of extraordinary courage. But Ikkis doesn’t turn this act of sacrifice into rhetoric, unlike other war films of our time, instead using it to reflect on the futility of war. In a superb scene towards the end, both Nisar and Khetarpal Sr. wonder if the conflict will ever come to an end. “It will end, when we put it to an end,” the Indian Brigadier tells his Pakistani counterpart.Ikkis is a film about quiet courage — and not merely on Arun’s part. Raghavan determinedly swims against the tide to make a film espousing his world view, and makes shore. Known for noirs, this might be Raghavan’s most sentimental film till date. But we see him mining humour from unlikely situations, when two ISI operatives talk about weighty silences between Nisar and Khetarpal Sr. “Do you think people at the agency listen to these silences, or simply fast forward through them?”In a hilarious scene towards the end of the film, after Khetarpal Sr’s return, Nisar is summoned by the ISI chief (Zakir Hussain) – who tries to recruit Nisar to exploit the proximity with his new Indian friend to go on frequent trips to India, and use the contacts to get close to high-ranking officials in Delhi. The chief is sincere in his proposal, and coming right after the mutual catharsis he shares with Khetarpal Sr, Nisar can’t help but dismissively laugh at the thought. No peace talks can survive scheming governments, where national-security genies are an electoral strategy.The disclaimer in Ikkis. Photo: By arrangement.I laughed similarly at a disclaimer at the end of the film, presumably inserted at the ‘suggestion’ of the CBFC or Ministry of Defence, where Brigadier K.M Naser (the real-life inspiration behind Ahlawat’s J.M Nisar) is cited as an “exception” and that Pakistan “can’t be trusted”. Raghavan does the right thing by burying this disgraceful disclaimer in the middle of his end-credits.Ikkis may not become the ‘success’ other war films do, but as a line scrawled on a wall in the film reminds us: “Do what is right, not what is easy.” In an era of easy outrage, Ikkis chooses restraint and moral clarity. History has a way of sifting through noise – it will remember the disclaimer, and Raghavan for quietly, stubbornly refusing to become part of it.*Ikkis is playing in theatres.