Before he was a world-class actor known for an almost chameleonic control of his craft, Riz Ahmed was a journeyman entertainer, taking on minor roles in smaller productions, all as a means of supporting his music career, where he would rap under the stage name Riz MC, as part of the underground duo Sweat Shop Boys. This has always been a fascinating part of the career of one of the most promising young actors to emerge over the past decade, and has often lingered as a significant factor in bringing him to the public’s attention, even if only when looking back in retrospect and considering how he has deviated into becoming an actor adored by audiences, critics and the industry alike. What is most endearing about Ahmed is that he can easily take on roles in major films and television series, but doubtlessly returns to the more intimate artistic world that gave him his start – and very few of his films have been more personal that Mogul Mowgli, a film that he not only starred in as the titular character, but also co-wrote and produced, making this a labour of love. It also proves to be one of the year’s best films, a haunting drama about a young man confronted with a series of life-altering decisions, none of them particularly easy to make, which is only made worse by the fact that the alternative options are grim at best. Mogul Mowgli is the exact kind of film that reminds me of the exact reasons why independent cinema is so immensely important, because without it, platforms wouldn’t be given to individuals like Ahmed to make the kinds of stories that not only speak to them personally and allow them to explore their own artistic curiosities, but also give a voice to under-represented groups that rarely are given much time in more mainstream films, especially when it comes to shifting away from preconceived notions of culture and tradition, and instead focusing solely on ordinary stories from voices silenced by previous cinematic ideals.

The film centres on Zaheer (Ahmed), who is more commonly referred to as “Zed”, particularly when adopting his persona as one of the rising stars in alternative hip hop. He plays sold-out concerts to adoring audiences all across the world, including in his new home of New York City, where he is hailed as a revelation. What most of his fans don’t realize is that Zed is actually from a very principle Pakistani-British family who are not particularly enamoured with his way of life, but support him nonetheless, hoping that this phase of his life will retreat soon enough before he pursues a proper career. A visit back home to London takes an unexpected turn when Zed, who had always been afflicted with hallucinations, wakes up in a hospital, having lost his consciousness the night before during an alleyway brawl. His body is not responding in the way it should, and it isn’t long before he is diagnosed with an incredibly rare autoimmune disease, and his body is gradually losing its ability to recognize itself. The doctors insist that he agrees to be part of an experimental treatment, since there is no known cure for his condition – and thinking of the tour that he was supposed to embark on soon, Zed is put in a precarious position, especially when he is informed that the treatment may have long-term side effects that may change his life significantly. Caught between survival and maintaining his image, Zed isn’t able to make a decision easily, which is only made worse with the presence of a young upstart (Nabhaan Rizwan), who sees himself as Zed’s protege, who in turn considers him to be a threat, since their similarities are far too significant to allow both to co-exist peacefully. With his family by his side, Zed does his best to forge a path ahead – but he realizes it may not be as easy as he anticipated at first.

What makes Ahmed such a captivating actor is that he’s an enigma – he’s been working solidly in the industry for over a decade now, and have dipped his toes into a variety of genres, and collaborated with a diverse range of notable auteurs and directorial icons. Yet, he’s still so difficult to pin down, and his personality (and often even appearance) shifts between films – and sometimes even within them. This is far less of a disadvantage, since it allows Ahmed to slip into any kind of role, plausibly playing absolutely anyone without even an iota of inauthenticity to be found anywhere in his performance. Inarguably, Mogul Mowgli is a film that hit close to home for the actor, since not only was he representing his own Pakistani-British heritage, but it hearkened back to his early days as a musician, who slaved away in clubs for years before anyone even knew his name. Not necessarily autobiographical, but rather plucked from some of his experiences (as well as those of director and co-writer Bassam Tariq), the film is an astonishing ode to a generation lost between cultures, and conflicted within themselves. Ahmed is beyond incredible in the part – it’s not a performance that announces itself, and it could even be seen as the antithesis of the departure between acting styles that he is most known for – but it’s unbelievably genuine, and its honesty resounds with an intensity that cannot ever be understated. Ahmed doesn’t need to do much to prove himself at this point, so the fact that he insists on challenging conventions and exploring his craft with more precision in each passing project is just all the proof one needs to see him as one of the future superstars of his profession. It also helps significantly that this could be Ahmed’s best performance – intimate, heartfelt and brimming with an energy we have yet to see from the actor. Yet, I’m reluctant to say this is Ahmed at his peak, since he always brings something new with each subsequent film, so it’s better to call this another substantial leap forward in one of the contemporary industry’s most exciting careers.

Mogul Mowgli is a film about a great many different topics, which may come as a surprise, considering the form the film takes, which is that of an intimate, character-driven drama that is clearly inspired by the wave of kitchen-sink realism that came about half a century ago, and where the trope of the “angry young man” was born, informing much of what Ahmed was doing here. What makes his work here so incredible is that he is capable of channelling every theme in the film through his performance – the reason to contextualize this film within the world of alternative hip hop likely wasn’t restricted to its lead actor’s background, but also because it lends insights into a world rarely represented in film. Grandiose monologues are replaced with heartwrenching verses, delivered with an emotional gravitas to rival any work of canonical theatre – and the manner in which the film balances both the high-rolling world of New York City, with the more simplistic lifestyle of working-class Britain, lends a powerful dynamic that is explored thoroughly and with an honesty that simply cannot be found without some very gifted artists at the helm, who not only want to tell a compelling story, but have a personal connection to it in some way. The artistic process isn’t one that goes ignored cinematically, and nearly every film about an artist coming to terms with the perils of fame sees them presented with certain challenges – Mogul Mowgli uses a debilitating illness as the foreground, and utilizes it as the launching pad for a series of insightful discussions on individuality and fame, as well as overarching themes of family (with the dynamic at the core of the film being almost heartbreakingly realistic) and culture, which serve a pivotal purpose in creating an unforgettable tapestry of the lives of a large faction of the contemporary population and their various trials and tribulations, which are filtered through the story of one man and his family coming to terms with a very difficult, and often quite hopeless, reality, from which there is seemingly no escape.

Independent cinema is so much more than just small-scale films that occupy very little space, but have huge ideas embedded in them – they’re also fertile ground for some of the most insightful discussions, and can often facilitate the most abstract way of thinking imaginable, changing hearts and minds alongside entertaining anyone who endeavours to seek them out. There is very little doubt that Mogul Mowgli is one of the year’s best films, solely because it adheres so closely to the principles established by generations of filmmakers that sought to reflect a wealth of complex themes, without the constraints of mainstream studios and their draconian conventions that guide the process. This specific film is a powerful testament to the value of independence, and through giving the creative individuals behind its creation the space to experiment and craft something meaningful, the film becomes a powerful ode to the importance of individuality, which is true of both the premise of the film, and the elements that went into bringing it to the screen. A simple, poetic drama that has some moments of hard-hitting brilliance appearing alongside meditations on existence that are as philosophically-profound as they are genuinely emotionally moving, Mogul Mowgli is simply a triumph, and one of the year’s most surprising gems. It deserves every bit of acclaim it has received, and once it has made its way into the orbit of the casual viewer, there is very little doubt that Ahmed and his cohorts will inherit legions of new admirers, who will doubtlessly be taken aback by this absolutely remarkable film.