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Aag Lagay Basti Mein Review: Mahira Khan shines in this comedy of errors
The film, Pakistan's Eid release, stars Fahad Mustafa and Khan in leading roles
- PUBLISHED: Sat 21 Mar 2026, 5:41 PM
Aag Lagay Basti Mein is an age-old tale of good versus evil, and how far one can go in compromising their ethics before stepping into the world of crime. At its core is a struggling couple, one honest, the other street smart. Yet, what truly sets the film apart is that you find yourself rooting for the greedy wife (Almas), played by Mahira Khan, whose only dream is to make it to Dubai. Tired of a modest life and daily frustrations, she devises a masterplan to fast track her way to money.
The film carefully builds their struggles and savings, only to strip it all away with one wrong move, pushing them back to square one. What follows is a spiral of loot, kidnapping and ransom. Small, calculated risks soon snowball into something far bigger, dragging the couple into the messy world of seasoned criminals.
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Mahira Khan is a revelation. She owns the film. What once felt like an underwhelming outing for her in Quaid-e-Azam Zindabad alongside Fahad Mustafa is completely overturned here. This time, she is not matching him, she is leading him. She drives the chaos, commands the comic timing, and runs the show with surprising ease. Who knew she had this flair for comedy.
There is something almost symbolic in her performance, like a final push before breaking out of a shell. It has taken time, but Mahira finally sheds the image of being too polished and steps convincingly into a raw, unfiltered space. I was sceptical about her as a gritty house help, but she delivers. Unlike Raees, where her Gujarati accent slipped early on, here she holds on firmly to the street lingo. The rawness, the unhinged tone, even the way she repeats “plan” as “peelan” at different points, all land with consistency and intent.
Fahad Mustafa acts as the film’s anchor. He brings sincerity to a man constantly weighed down by expectations to man up. In moments as simple as struggling to start his bike, not for a second does it cross your mind that this man has distributed wheels and bikes to half of Pakistan and is a national superstar and a style icon. You see a man burdened with life and never-ending struggles. His live persona is so big that you often forget this finesse and ease come from more than two decades of acting on television and over a decade in films, hence his deep understanding of the pulse of the crowd.
Having said that, Fahad now needs to change his avatar, as his character and tone feel very much in line with what we have already seen in Load Wedding, Na Maloom Afraad, and to an extent Actor in Law.
Tabish Hashmi’s entry is a reminder of what good casting can do and his character’s entry is what cinema is made of. His signature punchlines lift the scenes, and instead of a traditional gangster, his metrosexual, designer clad criminal persona works well. The well-moisturised hands and bathtub aesthetic, paired with his capacity for action, add a fun contrast. Even if the father son dynamic echoes Animal, it does not weigh the film down.
Beneath the humour, the film also touches upon the divide between the haves and have nots. It shows how deprivation forces children to grow up too soon, pushing them into roles that can turn dangerous. The presence of street performers like Goldie becomes more than comic relief, it turns into quiet commentary on the city’s inequalities. The satire lands because it reflects a truth we often overlook.
The film also benefits from characters that remain true to themselves. Almas stays corrupt till the end. Barkat, despite being born into a gangster family, remains kind hearted, guided by his conscience. Chota Marble does not suddenly transform either, unless the narrative device demands it. This consistency keeps the chaos grounded.
Director Bilal Atif Khan makes a confident debut. At times, the work feels like Nabeel Qureshi meets Priyadarshan, yet the applause and whistles in the cinema are well earned. His use of Karachi street humour and boyish banter feels authentic, even when it occasionally borders on inappropriate. At times, it does feel uneven, almost like a first draft brought to life, where structure takes a backseat to gags and momentum. Yet there is clear intent in that madness.
That said, the film also highlights a recurring pattern in Pakistani comedy films. From betelnut spitting to city specific street lingo, the genre often clings to familiar templates. New directors who have talented artists at their disposal must dare to take risks, deviating from clichés and exploring fresh settings or perspectives, be it a rom com in a college backdrop or situational comedy beyond the streets or perhaps in a corporate setting. While this film will surely be loved by many, Gen Z, the future of cinema going audiences, may find it harder to fully connect and own it unless such risks are taken.
One cannot help but wish the journey ended with the characters finally making it to Dubai, perhaps posing in front of the Burj Khalifa. After everything, they earned that moment. Maybe that is a story for another day.
There are few experiences better than a theatre full of people erupting in collective laughter. Because in this day and age, we could all use a good laugh. Aag Lagay Basti Mein gives ample such moments. Go watch it.