Director - Steven Spielberg

Screenplay - David Koepp

Cast - Emily Blunt, Josh O'Connor, Colin Firth, Eve Hewson, Colman Domingo

Runtime – 145 Minutes

Rating – 2

What would happen if humanity discovered, beyond any doubt, that we are not alone in the universe? It is one of the most fascinating questions science fiction has ever asked. Such a revelation would challenge religion, politics, culture, and our entire understanding of existence. It would force humanity to reconsider its place in the cosmos. Yet for all the enormous possibilities contained within that premise, Steven Spielberg's Disclosure Day seems surprisingly uninterested in exploring them. Instead, it settles for a far safer story about government secrets, whistleblowers, and the importance of truth.

At first, the film appears to be building toward something profound. Set in the present day, Disclosure Day revolves around the idea that extraterrestrials are real and have secretly been present on Earth for decades. The public simply doesn't know it yet. Rather than focusing on first contact or alien invasion, the story centers on the government's efforts to suppress evidence of their existence. The result is less of a traditional alien movie and more of a conspiracy thriller, with echoes of political dramas and chase films rather than classic science fiction.

The story follows Josh O'Connor as a whistleblower who obtains classified footage proving the existence of extraterrestrial life. As he attempts to bring this information to the public, he becomes the target of a powerful organization determined to keep the secret buried. Along the way, he crosses paths with Emily Blunt's mysterious character, whose connection to the alien phenomenon gradually becomes central to the narrative. Together, they find themselves pursued by government agents while racing to reveal what may be the biggest secret in human history.

For much of its first half, Disclosure Day is genuinely engaging. Spielberg remains one of cinema's greatest storytellers when it comes to suspense and momentum. The mystery unfolds gradually, clues are revealed at the right moments, and the film maintains a constant sense of tension. Even when very little is happening, Spielberg's direction keeps the audience invested. There is an old-fashioned thriller quality to the movie that makes it easy to enjoy on a scene-to-scene basis.

Unfortunately, the screenplay never develops beyond its setup.

The film's biggest problem is that it seems far more interested in the act of revealing the truth than in the consequences of that truth. Everything builds toward disclosure, yet the story rarely pauses to consider what disclosure would actually mean. This becomes increasingly frustrating because the film repeatedly presents the existence of aliens as a world-changing revelation while refusing to examine how the world might change.

Would governments lose credibility? Would religious beliefs be challenged? Would humanity unite, panic, or simply move on? These are the questions that naturally emerge from the film's premise. Yet Disclosure Day largely ignores them. Instead, it relies on a broad and somewhat simplistic message about empathy and understanding.

That theme is primarily delivered through Emily Blunt's character, who possesses an extraordinary ability to emotionally connect with people. Throughout the film, she repeatedly defuses conflict through brief emotional interactions, convincing strangers and even government pursuers to reconsider their actions. The idea that empathy is a uniquely human strength is not inherently flawed, but the execution feels heavy-handed. The film treats empathy almost like a magical solution capable of overcoming every obstacle. Rather than feeling profound, many of these moments come across as unrealistic and overly sentimental.

The aliens themselves are also surprisingly underwhelming. Spielberg has created some of cinema's most memorable extraterrestrial beings in the past, yet the creatures in Disclosure Day feel disappointingly generic. Instead of offering something imaginative or unique, the film relies on familiar grey-alien imagery that has dominated UFO mythology for decades. For a filmmaker known for wonder and creativity, this lack of originality is difficult to ignore.

That said, the performances help keep the film afloat. Josh O'Connor brings urgency and conviction to his role, while Emily Blunt does everything she can with material that often struggles to support its own ambitions. The supporting cast is equally solid, and Spielberg's direction ensures that the movie remains entertaining even when its ideas fall short.

The real disappointment arrives in the final act. After spending two hours building anticipation around the revelation of extraterrestrial truth, the film finally reaches its moment of disclosure. Audiences expect some exploration of the aftermath, some attempt to grapple with the implications of such a discovery. Instead, the movie chooses ambiguity. The truth is revealed, a few vague statements about listening and understanding are offered, and the story comes to an abrupt end. It feels less like a conclusion and more like an avoidance of one.

The problem is not that the film leaves questions unanswered. Great science fiction often thrives on ambiguity. The problem is that Disclosure Day never seriously engages with those questions in the first place. It repeatedly hints at enormous philosophical ideas but seems reluctant to explore them. For a movie built around one of the most significant revelations imaginable, its imagination feels surprisingly limited.

Disclosure Day is an entertaining conspiracy thriller elevated by Spielberg's undeniable filmmaking skill. The mystery is compelling, the performances are strong, and the suspense works. But beneath the polished surface lies a screenplay that lacks the courage to confront its own premise. It asks one of science fiction's biggest questions and then walks away before the conversation truly begins.

Director – Chinmay D. Mandlekar

Cast – Manoj Bajpayee, Adah Sharma, Madhoo, Naushad Mohammad Kunju, Paritosh Sand, and Krisha Kurup

Writers – Shubhendu Bhattacharya, Saurabh Bharat, Ravi Asrani, and Vipul Amrutlal Shah

Producers – Vipul Amrutlal Shah, Sunshine Pictures

Runtime – 122 Minutes

Rating – 3

Historical dramas often struggle to make policy and governance engaging for mainstream audiences, but Governor: The Silent Saviour takes on that challenge with sincerity and ambition. Set against the backdrop of India's economic crisis in the early 1990s, the film revisits a crucial chapter in the nation's history and shines a light on the individuals who worked behind the scenes to prevent financial collapse. Rather than relying on sensationalism, the film focuses on the power of intellect, leadership, and difficult decision-making during one of the country's most uncertain periods.

The story follows A. Ramanan, played by Manoj Bajpayee, an RBI Governor-inspired figure tasked with guiding India through a severe economic downturn. The film explores the enormous responsibility placed on his shoulders as foreign reserves dwindle, pressure mounts from political circles, and public anxiety grows. While economic policy is rarely considered cinematic material, the screenplay manages to transform complex financial challenges into a human story about duty, resilience, and national service.

Manoj Bajpayee once again proves why he remains one of India's most dependable performers. His portrayal of Ramanan is restrained yet powerful, capturing the calm determination of a man who understands the gravity of every decision he makes. Bajpayee never resorts to dramatic theatrics; instead, he allows the character's intelligence and conviction to speak for themselves. His performance gives the film emotional weight and keeps viewers invested even during its most technical moments.

The supporting cast complements the narrative effectively. Madhu Sharma brings warmth and stability as Vandita, offering glimpses into the personal life of a man consumed by professional responsibilities. Adah Sharma stands out as journalist Aditi Verma, whose pursuit of answers adds another dimension to the story. Through her character, the film examines the role of the media during times of national uncertainty. The rest of the ensemble delivers solid performances that contribute to the film's authenticity and grounded tone.

Director Chinmay D. Mandlekar deserves credit for approaching the subject with seriousness and respect. Rather than turning the story into a political thriller, he keeps the focus on the economic realities of the era and the people working to address them. The production design successfully recreates the atmosphere of 1990s India, helping viewers appreciate how different the country was during that period. The film serves as a reminder of how far India has come and the difficult choices that helped shape its economic future.

That said, Governor: The Silent Saviour is not without flaws. The pacing occasionally slows, particularly in sections that lean heavily on discussions and procedural details. Some viewers may also feel that the film does not fully explore the government's role in resolving the crisis, choosing instead to remain focused on its central character. While this keeps the narrative streamlined, it leaves certain aspects of the larger picture underdeveloped.

Despite these shortcomings, the film succeeds as both an educational and engaging experience. It tells an important story that many younger viewers may know only from a brief mention in history or social science textbooks. More importantly, it highlights a rarely discussed aspect of nation-building—economic leadership during moments of crisis.

Governor: The Silent Saviour may not appeal to audiences looking for high-octane action or commercial spectacle, but viewers interested in history, governance, and real-life stories of leadership will find plenty to appreciate. Anchored by an excellent performance from Manoj Bajpayee and backed by thoughtful direction, the film is a meaningful watch that deserves attention for bringing an overlooked chapter of India's journey to the screen.

Writer/Director - Manoj Tapadia

Starring - Kangana Ranaut, Girija Oak Godbole , Smita Tambe, Suhita Thatte, Asha Shelar, Priya Berde, Esha Dey, Rasika Aghase, Amrutha Namdev, Aditya Mishra, Zahid Khan

Producer - Kangana Ranaut, Shailesh R Singh, Dhaval Gada, Babita Ashiwal, Adi Sharma

Runtime – 130 Minutes

Rating – 3

The story of the 26/11 Mumbai terror attacks has been told multiple times through films, documentaries, and web series. Most of these narratives have focused on the terrorists, the police force, or the commandos who fought back during those terrifying hours. Bharat Bhhagya Viddhaata takes a different and refreshing approach. Instead of concentrating on the gunfire and counter-terror operations, the film highlights the courage of nurses and hospital staff who risked their lives to protect patients trapped in the middle of a national tragedy.

Set primarily inside Cama Hospital, the film follows Geeta Madhav, played by Kangana Ranaut, and her team of nurses as they go about their routine duties on what initially appears to be an ordinary day. The film spends time introducing the staff, their friendships, family struggles, and personal responsibilities. These moments help establish an emotional connection with the characters before events take a dramatic turn.

As news of coordinated terrorist attacks begins to spread across Mumbai, panic slowly creeps into the hospital corridors. With uncertainty growing by the minute, Geeta and her colleagues find themselves responsible for the safety of vulnerable patients, pregnant women, and frightened families. The film effectively captures the tension and confusion of those moments. More importantly, it emphasizes that heroism is not limited to people carrying weapons; sometimes it is demonstrated by those who continue doing their duty despite overwhelming fear.

Kangana Ranaut delivers one of her most controlled performances in recent years. She avoids unnecessary dramatics and portrays Geeta with sincerity and conviction. Her performance feels natural, particularly in scenes that require her to balance fear with responsibility. The actress also brings warmth to the lighter moments, reminding viewers of the effortless charm that made some of her earlier performances memorable. Her expressions communicate anxiety, determination, and compassion without ever feeling exaggerated.

The supporting cast adds significant strength to the narrative. Girija Oak, Smita Tambe, Asha Shelar, and Priya Arjun Berde all contribute believable and emotionally grounded performances. The decision to cast several actors from Marathi cinema enhances the authenticity of the Mumbai setting and makes the hospital environment feel more realistic. Importantly, the film functions as an ensemble piece rather than relying solely on its lead star.

Director Manoj Tapadia deserves credit for bringing an overlooked perspective to the screen. Instead of recreating the attack through action-heavy sequences, he focuses on the emotional experience of ordinary people caught in extraordinary circumstances. The confined hospital setting allows the audience to experience the fear and uncertainty from the viewpoint of those who had no idea what was happening outside but still had lives depending on them.

However, this creative choice also becomes the film's biggest limitation. By restricting the story almost entirely to the hospital, the narrative occasionally loses the larger context of the attacks. The scale of the tragedy that engulfed Mumbai that night is not always fully conveyed. Younger audiences unfamiliar with the events may not completely grasp the magnitude of the crisis unfolding beyond the hospital walls.

The pacing is another area where the film struggles. The first act takes longer than necessary to establish its characters, causing the story to find momentum rather late. While several emotional moments work effectively, a few scenes appear designed to evoke tears rather than allowing emotions to emerge organically.

Despite its flaws, Bharat Bhhagya Viddhaata succeeds in shining a spotlight on individuals who are often forgotten in discussions about 26/11. It tells a story of courage, compassion, and responsibility during one of India's darkest nights. While it may not fully realize the immense potential of its subject matter, it remains a sincere and respectful tribute to the healthcare workers who quietly became heroes when their city needed them most.

Director - Imtiaz Ali

Cast – Diljit Dosanjh, Naseeruddin Shah, Vedang Raina, Sharvari, Danish Pandor, Banita Sandhu, Kumud Mishra, Rajat Kapoor, Sanjay Suri, Jaipreet Singh, Dolly Ahluwalia, Vinod Nagpal, Manish Chaudhary, Anjana Sukhani

Writer – Imtiaz Ali, Nayanika Mahtani

Producer - Sameer Nair, Deepak Segal, Mohit Choudhary, Shibhasish Sarkar

Runtime – 167 Minutes

Rating – 3

Love stories have always been Imtiaz Ali's strongest territory, and Main Vaapas Aaunga is yet another attempt to explore love that refuses to fade with time. Set against the lingering wounds of the India-Pakistan Partition, the film tells an emotional story about memories, unfinished relationships, and the longing to say goodbye to someone who never truly left the heart. While the film doesn't always maintain its footing, it eventually blossoms into a moving and deeply emotional experience.

At the center of the story is 94-year-old Keenu Grewal, played by Naseeruddin Shah, who has spent nearly eight decades carrying the memory of a love that remained incomplete. Before his final farewell to life, he wishes to seek permission from the woman he once loved to say goodbye properly. That woman now lives across the border in Pakistan, making the journey nearly impossible. Determined to fulfill his grandfather's wish, Nirvair Grewal (Diljit Dosanjh) embarks on a mission that becomes far more than a simple search. What follows is a journey through memories, history, and emotions that have survived generations.

One of the film's biggest strengths lies in its performances. Vedang Raina impresses as the younger Keenu, bringing sincerity and vulnerability to the role. Sharvari is charming and graceful as Afsana, creating a character who remains memorable even when she is absent from the screen. Naseeruddin Shah once again proves why he is considered one of India's finest actors. Despite limited dialogue, he conveys decades of longing, regret, and affection through subtle expressions and body language.

Diljit Dosanjh delivers a restrained and heartfelt performance. His natural screen presence works perfectly for a character carrying the emotional burden of another generation's unfinished story. The supporting cast, including Danish Pandor, Manish Chaudhari, and Rajat Kapoor, contributes meaningfully to the narrative and helps create a believable emotional landscape.

However, Main Vaapas Aaunga is also a film of two distinct halves. The first half feels slow and occasionally difficult to connect with. The narrative takes considerable time to establish its characters and emotional stakes. Some scenes feel overly literary, as though pages from a novel have been transferred directly to the screen without sufficient cinematic adaptation. As a result, the film occasionally struggles to maintain momentum.

Fortunately, the second half is where Imtiaz Ali reminds audiences why his storytelling continues to resonate. The emotional depth increases dramatically as the film explores the human cost of Partition. Beyond political boundaries and historical events, the story focuses on families torn apart, relationships left unfinished, and the emotional scars carried across generations. These moments are beautifully handled and often leave a lasting impact.

The film is not entirely free of flaws. Certain creative choices, particularly the use of a cricket-related narrative device, feel unnecessary and occasionally distract from the central emotional journey. Similarly, some aspects of Keenu's portrayal during his illness can feel slightly exaggerated. A more understated approach might have strengthened the emotional authenticity of several scenes.

Yet despite these shortcomings, Main Vaapas Aaunga succeeds where it matters most. It captures the pain of separation and the enduring power of love with sincerity. The film speaks not only about romance but also about memory, identity, and the invisible wounds left behind by history.

For viewers who appreciate slow-burning dramas filled with emotion and nostalgia, this film offers a rewarding experience. Those expecting a fast-paced narrative may find the journey demanding, but patient audiences will discover a story that lingers long after the credits roll. Emotional, thoughtful, and beautifully acted, Main Vaapas Aaunga is a film that deserves to be experienced with patience and an open heart.

Director – Prosit Roy

Cast – Ali Fazal, Sonali Bendre, Aamir Bashir, Rakesh Bedi, Divyendu Bhattacharya, Aakash Makhija, Ramandeep Yadav, Divya Sharma, and Vivan Sharma

Writers – Anusha Nandakumar, Sandeep Saket

Producers – Deepak Dhar, Rishi Negi, Mrinalini Jain, Shyam Rathi

Platform - Prime Video

Season – 1

Episode – 8

Rating – 3

Crime thrillers have become one of the most crowded genres on OTT platforms. Every week seems to bring another murder investigation, serial killer hunt, or police procedural. Standing out in such a crowded space requires more than shocking twists and graphic violence. Raakh understands this. Instead of relying solely on suspense, the series focuses on the fear and trauma that a horrific crime leaves behind, creating a psychological impact that lingers long after the credits roll.

Inspired by the infamous 1978 Ranga-Billa case, Raakh revisits one of India's most disturbing crimes. While the case itself has been portrayed in various formats over the years, this series takes a different approach. Rather than simply recreating the crime, it explores its emotional and social aftermath, examining how a single act of brutality can shake an entire community.

The story revolves around the Arora family, whose lives are turned upside down when their children, Suman and Sahil, fail to return home after attending a radio station event. What begins as a missing persons case gradually transforms into something far darker. Running parallel to this storyline is the journey of two petty criminals, Babu and Rajjo, whose reckless decisions trigger a horrifying chain of events. As these narratives slowly converge, the series builds a sense of dread that becomes increasingly difficult to ignore.

One of the show's strongest assets is its character-driven storytelling. Ali Fazal delivers one of the finest performances of his career as police officer Jaiprakash. Unlike the loud and larger-than-life cops often seen in crime dramas, Jaiprakash is quiet, thoughtful, and emotionally burdened. Fazal effectively conveys his character's frustration, determination, and vulnerability through subtle expressions rather than dramatic speeches. It is a refreshingly restrained performance that elevates the entire series.

Sonali Bendre also makes a powerful impact as Mona Arora. Her portrayal of a mother desperately searching for answers feels authentic and deeply emotional. She avoids melodrama and instead brings a heartbreaking realism to the role. Aamir Bashir provides solid support, while Divyendu Bhattacharya adds depth whenever he appears on screen.

The biggest surprise, however, comes from Aakash Makhija and Ramandeep Yadav as Babu and Rajjo. Their performances are genuinely unsettling. Rather than portraying cartoonish villains, they create characters who feel disturbingly real. There are moments when their actions evoke anger, discomfort, and fear simultaneously—exactly the reaction the narrative demands.

Director Prosit Roy once again proves that atmosphere is one of his greatest strengths. Much like his earlier work, Raakh thrives on tension rather than spectacle. The recreation of 1970s Delhi feels immersive, and the show's visual language constantly reinforces a sense of unease. The simplicity of the filmmaking often works in its favor, making several scenes more disturbing because they feel grounded in reality.

However, the series is not without flaws. Its biggest challenge is pacing. While the slow-burn approach helps build tension, several episodes stretch scenes longer than necessary. There are moments where the narrative appears trapped in a particular emotional state without making meaningful progress. As a result, the middle portion occasionally feels repetitive and loses some momentum.

The series also takes itself very seriously throughout its runtime. While that seriousness contributes to the atmosphere, it sometimes comes at the expense of narrative urgency. The creators seem more invested in maintaining a mood of dread than consistently moving the story forward. Fortunately, the finale delivers a satisfying payoff that justifies much of the slow build-up.

Raakh is not designed for viewers seeking constant twists and rapid-fire storytelling. It demands patience and attention. Those willing to invest in its world will find a disturbing, emotionally charged thriller that prioritizes character and atmosphere over easy thrills.

While not flawless, Raakh succeeds in creating the kind of crime drama that remains in your thoughts long after the final episode ends. In an era overflowing with forgettable thrillers, that alone makes it worth watching.

Director: Manish Saini

Cast: Jackie Shroff, Mihir Godbole, Shivansh Chorge, Bhagyashree, Prateik Babbar, Sharat Saxena

Duration: 112 minutes

Rating – 2..5

Manish Saini’s The Great Grand Superhero: Aliens Ka Aagman arrives with the kind of sincerity that modern family films often struggle to embrace. Beneath its playful title and comic-book premise lies a surprisingly heartfelt story about childhood loneliness, storytelling, and the power of believing in something bigger than yourself. At a time when cynicism has become the default setting for both audiences and filmmakers, the film dares to suggest that imagination is not an escape from reality—it is often what helps us survive it.

At the center of this adventure is Dipu (Mihir Godbole), a bright but lonely boy who has become accustomed to changing schools and starting over due to his father's frequent transfers. Making friends doesn't come naturally to him, so he does what many children do when reality feels insufficient—he invents a better one. In Dipu's version of events, his grandfather is no ordinary pensioner but a secret superhero locked in an eternal battle against aliens. The story begins as a harmless attempt to fit in, but soon grows into something much larger when his classmates start demanding proof of these extraordinary claims.

The film finds much of its charm in the contrast between fantasy and reality. Jackie Shroff's Jagdish Chandra appears to be the exact opposite of a superhero. He worries about his health, fears lizards, and carries himself like any other retired grandfather. Yet the brilliance of the screenplay lies in how it never dismisses Dipu's belief. Instead, it constantly plays with the possibility that perhaps ordinary people contain extraordinary qualities hidden beneath everyday appearances. When Dadaji discovers the mythology Dipu has built around him and decides to play along, the film transforms into a delightful game between skepticism and wonder.

Mihir Godbole delivers a wonderfully natural performance, capturing both Dipu's intelligence and vulnerability without slipping into sentimentality. Shivansh Chorge, as the endlessly curious Laddoo, becomes the perfect companion in this world where faith and imagination overlap. Their friendship forms the emotional core of the narrative. The interactions between the children feel authentic, reflecting the way kids create entire universes from half-truths, rumors, and boundless curiosity. The film understands that childhood friendships are often built not on facts, but on shared belief.

Jackie Shroff, however, remains the soul of the film. Bringing warmth, humor, and effortless charisma, he transforms Dadaji into the kind of grandfather every child wishes they had. There is also a delightful meta quality to his casting. Once introduced to audiences as a hero in Hero (1983) and later appearing in the campy superhero adventure Shiva Ka Insaaf (1985), Shroff's presence carries decades of cinematic nostalgia. The film cleverly uses that history to strengthen its central idea—that heroes don't disappear; they simply change shape as generations grow older.

What elevates The Great Grand Superhero beyond a simple children's fantasy is its subtle social commentary. The film gently explores how children use imagination as a tool for survival—whether to overcome loneliness, gain acceptance, or create meaning in unfamiliar environments. It also pokes fun at a society that increasingly values certainty over wonder. The inclusion of aliens concerned about environmental degradation adds another layer, allowing the film to weave themes of ecological responsibility into its playful narrative. Even the aliens' complaints about how Bollywood portrays them become a source of clever humor.

The film does lose some of its magic in the second half. The wonderfully mysterious blur between reality and fantasy gradually gives way to straightforward explanations and larger action sequences. In trying to clarify everything, the narrative sacrifices some of the ambiguity that made the opening acts so engaging. The visual effects, while serviceable, lack the inventiveness needed to match the film's imaginative ambitions. Yet these shortcomings never fully diminish its charm because the emotional foundation remains strong throughout.

Ultimately, The Great Grand Superhero: Aliens Ka Aagman succeeds because it understands something many family films forget: children do not need stories that talk down to them—they need stories that respect their capacity to dream. Warm, funny, nostalgic, and refreshingly sincere, it reminds us that imagination is not something we outgrow. Sometimes, all it takes is a grandfather, a wild story, and a child willing to believe for the world to feel magical again.

Director - Suresh Triveni

Writer – Pooja Tolani

Cast - Madhuri Dixit, Triptii Dimri, Dharna Durga, Ravi Kishan

Platform – Netflix

Duration – 127 Minutes

Rating – 3

Suresh Triveni’s Maa Behen begins like a dark comic misfire waiting to explode—a dead body, a middle-class living room, and three women who have absolutely no time for either morality or panic. On the surface, it plays like a crime caper gone slightly off the rails, but underneath the noise and absurdity, the film is far more interested in something sharper: how women are pre-written into society’s scripts long before they get to speak their own lines.

The film cleverly reclaims the familiar cultural shorthand of “Rekha, Jaya, Sushma”—names once used in a 1990s detergent advertisement to represent idealised, obedient domestic womanhood. Here, those same names belong to three very different women who refuse to fit neatly into any such category. Rekha (Madhuri Dixit), a widowed mother in Patna, finds her already unstable world collapsing further when she discovers a dead body in her home. The shock is immediate, but the film refuses melodrama; instead, it leans into chaos that feels oddly procedural, almost like crisis management disguised as domestic life.

From that point, Rekha calls upon her estranged daughters—Jaya (Triptii Dimri), trapped in a suffocating marriage and performing “ideal daughterhood” like an unpaid full-time job, and Sushma (Dharna Durga), a social media influencer whose currency is attention in a world that constantly demands visibility without substance. The three women gather not as a reunited family in the emotional sense, but as reluctant co-managers of a problem that refuses to stay buried—literally.

What follows is less a straight narrative and more a spiralling chain of decisions, cover-ups, misunderstandings, and escalating absurdity. A ransom subplot enters, relatives begin circling like vultures, a lovelorn cop adds procedural weight, and neighbours transform into informal investigators driven entirely by gossip. The dead body becomes less of a plot device and more of a ticking moral inconvenience—one that forces the women to constantly improvise survival strategies in a world that is already watching and judging them.

The film’s sharpest idea lies in its meta-commentary through the fictional crime show Khalbali, which reinterprets the central trio as sensational headlines rather than human beings. Rekha is reframed as a morally dubious widow, Jaya as a scheming “good daughter gone rogue,” and Sushma as a social media seductress. This is where Maa Behen becomes most pointed—it shows how narratives about women are manufactured, amplified, and accepted long before truth has a chance to enter the room. Gossip becomes evidence, and speculation becomes verdict.

The performances keep the film grounded even when its structure threatens to scatter. Madhuri Dixit plays Rekha with a fascinating mix of confusion and survival instinct, never letting the character slip into either victimhood or exaggeration. Triptii Dimri delivers the film’s emotional tension with controlled intensity, especially in moments where the “ideal daughter” mask finally fractures and something more volatile breaks through. Dharna Durga brings an unfiltered, restless energy to Sushma, avoiding the easy trap of turning her into a caricature of influencer culture and instead making her feel impulsive, sharp, and strangely vulnerable.

If the film stumbles, it is in its ambition to juggle too many narrative threads at once. The police investigation, the ransom angle, and several supporting characters don’t always receive the same level of narrative discipline, causing parts of the film to feel slightly overextended. Yet even this clutter feels thematically consistent—almost as if the film is intentionally mirroring the noise and overload of public judgment itself, where multiple stories compete but none fully resolve.

In the end, Maa Behen works less as a tightly controlled crime story and more as a chaotic, self-aware commentary on perception, morality, and the stories women are forced to inhabit. It is messy, loud, and occasionally uneven—but that messiness feels intentional, like a world where truth is always competing with storytelling, and storytelling almost always wins.

Director - Robbie Grewal

Writer - Kandarp Shroff, Karan Vyas, Niraj Dasa

Cast - Jim Sarbh, Naseeruddin Shah, Vaibhav Tatwawadi, Namita Dubey, Lakshvir Saran

Platform – Amazon MX Playe

Season – 1

Episode – 6

Rating – 3

There are business stories, and then there are stories about belief. Made In India: A Titan Story belongs firmly in the latter category. While the six-episode series chronicles the rise of Titan from a bold idea to one of India's most recognizable brands, it is ultimately less interested in watches and more interested in the people who dared to imagine that India could create something world-class on its own terms. The result is an engaging, often inspiring drama that blends corporate ambition with the spirit of nation-building.

At the center of the story is Xerxes Desai, played with infectious energy by Jim Sarbh. Visionary, stubborn, charismatic, and occasionally impossible, Xerxes emerges as the driving force behind Titan's creation. Sarbh once again proves why he remains one of the most compelling performers working today. He captures the contradictions that often define great innovators—the confidence that borders on arrogance, the passion that fuels impossible dreams, and the relentless refusal to accept limitations. Rather than portraying him as a flawless corporate icon, the series allows him to be wonderfully human.

Yet for all of Xerxes' ambition, the soul of the show belongs to Naseeruddin Shah's JRD Tata. Shah doesn't merely play the legendary industrialist; he inhabits him. From his measured speech and gentle authority to the warmth that radiates through even the simplest conversations, Shah creates a portrayal that feels deeply authentic. Every time JRD enters a scene, the show finds a new level of emotional depth. He becomes the embodiment of the Tata philosophy—that success is meaningful only when it serves a larger purpose. His scenes don't feel like boardroom discussions; they feel like lessons in leadership.

The relationship between JRD Tata and Xerxes Desai forms the emotional backbone of the series. One represents wisdom built through decades of experience, while the other embodies the restless energy of a man determined to challenge conventions. Their conversations are among the show's finest moments, filled with admiration, disagreement, mentorship, and mutual respect. Whenever the two share screen space, the series comes alive in a way that few business dramas manage. In fact, one of the show's biggest shortcomings is that it doesn't give us nearly enough of these interactions.

Where Made In India occasionally falls short is in translating corporate challenges into dramatic tension. The series introduces significant obstacles—from skepticism within the industry to international competition—but often resolves them too neatly. Some conflicts feel more like checkpoints than genuine crises. The European expansion storyline, in particular, should have been one of the most gripping chapters of the narrative, yet it never quite delivers the emotional stakes its setup promises. Time and again, the performances elevate moments that the writing only partially develops.

Fortunately, the supporting cast helps maintain the momentum. Vaibhav Tatwawadi brings welcome stability as a grounded counterbalance to Xerxes' larger-than-life personality, while Kaveri Seth and Lakshvir Singh Saran contribute warmth and credibility to the ensemble. Together, they help create a believable ecosystem of dreamers, professionals, and risk-takers working toward a common goal.

The production values are consistently impressive. The recreation of Bombay, Bangalore, and Hosur across different decades is detailed without becoming overly nostalgic. The visual style, particularly the use of sepia-toned documentary-inspired transitions, gives the series a distinctive personality. Aditya Kapur's cinematography captures both the intimacy of personal conviction and the scale of industrial ambition, while the use of classic Hindi songs and archival footage adds texture and authenticity to the storytelling.

What makes Made In India: A Titan Story resonate is that it understands success isn't just about market share or profitability. It is about building something that lasts, something that reflects the values of the people behind it. The series may not always generate the dramatic intensity its story deserves, but its sincerity is impossible to dismiss. More importantly, it gives audiences one of the finest performances of the year in Naseeruddin Shah's JRD Tata—a portrayal so graceful and convincing that it lingers long after the final episode ends.

By the time the credits roll, you may remember Titan's journey, but you'll remember JRD Tata's quiet wisdom even more. And that, perhaps, is the show's greatest achievement.

Director - Buchi Babu Sana

Cast - Ram Charan, Shiva Rajkumar, Janhvi Kapoor, Jagapathi Babu, Divyenndu, Boman Irani

Runtime – 189 Minutes

Rating - 2

Peddi arrives with massive expectations, combining the star power of Ram Charan, a pan-India release strategy, and months of anticipation. Unfortunately, while the film showcases Ram Charan's dedication and screen presence, it struggles to transform its ambitious ideas into a compelling cinematic experience. What could have been an inspiring underdog story ends up feeling overstuffed and emotionally inconsistent.

The film follows Peddi, a laborer from a remote village who dreams of earning respect for both himself and his community. The story explores themes of caste discrimination, social inequality, identity, and personal ambition. From cricket grounds to wrestling arenas, Peddi's journey is packed with challenges that test his determination. However, the narrative frequently shifts directions, making it difficult to identify a clear central focus.

The strongest aspect of the film is undoubtedly Ram Charan. He delivers a committed and physically demanding performance that elevates even the weaker moments of the screenplay. Whether expressing anger, heartbreak, or resilience, he commands attention in every scene. His transformation and dedication are visible throughout the film, proving once again why he remains one of Indian cinema's biggest stars.

The supporting cast performs admirably despite limited opportunities. Shiva Rajkumar brings warmth and authority to his mentor role, while Divyendu and Ravi Kishan leave a lasting impact despite their brief appearances. Jagapathi Babu and Boman Irani add credibility to the narrative with solid performances. Janhvi Kapoor, however, is underserved by the script. Her character lacks depth, and the film never gives her enough meaningful moments to leave a strong impression.

Director Buchi Babu attempts to blend multiple genres into a single film. Social drama, sports drama, romance, revenge, and family emotions all compete for attention. While each element has potential individually, their combination creates a scattered narrative. The film often abandons one storyline to pursue another, preventing viewers from becoming fully invested in any particular emotional arc.

Visually, Peddi is impressive. The cinematography captures the beauty of rural landscapes, while the production design creates a convincing and immersive world. The action sequences are larger than life and entertaining, even when they stretch credibility. The songs and dance sequences add energy, and the background score successfully amplifies several key moments.

One of the film's biggest weaknesses is its excessive runtime. At nearly three hours, the screenplay often feels repetitive. Several emotional scenes are stretched beyond necessity, and the romantic subplot remains underdeveloped. An item song inserted into the narrative feels particularly unnecessary and disrupts the film's pacing rather than enhancing it.

Overall, Peddi is a film that showcases extraordinary effort from its lead actor but suffers from an unfocused script and uneven storytelling. While Ram Charan gives audiences plenty of memorable moments, the film itself struggles to match his commitment. Fans of the actor may still find enough reasons to watch it, but viewers expecting a tightly written and emotionally satisfying drama may leave the theater wanting more.

Director - Anurag Kashyap

Cast - Bobby Deol, Sanya Malhotra, Sapna Pabbi, Saba Azad, Indrajith Sukumuran, Raj B. Shetty, Jitendra Joshi

Runtime – 136 Minutes

Rating – 2.5

In an industry crowded with formula-driven entertainers, Bandar arrives as a refreshing change. Directed by Anurag Kashyap, the film blends legal drama, social commentary, and psychological tension into a compelling narrative. The title may initially seem unusual, but as the story unfolds, it becomes a fitting metaphor for a man forced to dance to the unpredictable tunes of the legal system and public opinion.

The film follows Sameer Mehra, a former television superstar struggling to rebuild both his career and personal life. Just when stability appears within reach, his world is turned upside down when his ex-girlfriend Gayatri accuses him of rape. What begins as a legal battle soon evolves into a complex examination of truth, perception, and justice. The narrative constantly keeps the audience guessing about who is right and who is wrong.

One of the film's greatest achievements is its refusal to offer easy answers. Rather than presenting a straightforward courtroom drama, Bandar explores the emotional and social consequences of allegations, media scrutiny, and public judgment. The legal proceedings become a backdrop for a larger conversation about power, reputation, and the flaws within the justice system.

Bobby Deol carries the film almost single-handedly. His portrayal of Sameer is layered, restrained, and emotionally powerful. Whether expressing fear, frustration, or vulnerability, Bobby delivers a performance that feels authentic and deeply human. This role showcases a maturity and intensity that may well rank among the finest performances of his career.

Sapna Pabbi is equally impressive as Gayatri. She brings mystery and unpredictability to the character, ensuring that the audience remains uncertain about her true intentions. Saba Azad provides solid support as Sameer's partner, while Sanya Malhotra makes a strong impact despite limited screen time. Together, the cast creates a believable world filled with morally complex characters.

Anurag Kashyap's direction is sharp and uncompromising. His trademark realism is evident throughout the film, from the dialogues to the portrayal of legal and social institutions. He raises uncomfortable questions about justice and accountability without turning the film into a preachy lecture. The storytelling remains grounded, making the drama feel both relevant and unsettling.

The film is not without flaws. The first half progresses at a measured pace, and certain portions in the middle feel stretched. Additionally, the climax lacks the emotional punch that the rest of the narrative builds toward. The soundtrack is largely forgettable, although the background score succeeds in maintaining tension and supporting the film's dark atmosphere.

Overall, Bandar is a thought-provoking legal drama elevated by Bobby Deol's exceptional performance and Anurag Kashyap's fearless storytelling. Despite a few pacing issues and an underwhelming ending, the film succeeds in delivering a gripping, realistic, and socially relevant experience. For viewers looking for intelligent cinema that challenges conventions and sparks discussion, Bandar is definitely worth watching.

Director - David Dhawan

Cast - Varun Dhawan, Mrunal Thakur, Pooja Hegde, Maniesh Paul, Chunky Panday, Jimmy Sheirgill, and Mouni Roy

Runtime – 136 Minutes

Rating - 1.5

Hai Jawani Toh Ishq Hona Hai attempts to revive the brand of chaotic comedy that once defined Bollywood in the 1990s. Directed by David Dhawan, the film embraces mistaken identities, romantic confusion, and over-the-top situations in an effort to recreate the magic of his earlier hits. While the film occasionally delivers a few laughs, it often feels trapped in a style of storytelling that no longer holds the same appeal.

The plot revolves around Jaswinder "Jass" Ahuja, a wedding photographer whose life takes an unexpected turn when he finds himself caught between two women, both expecting his child. What follows is a series of misunderstandings, desperate cover-ups, and increasingly absurd situations. The premise has the potential to generate plenty of comic chaos, but the screenplay rarely takes full advantage of it.

Varun Dhawan throws himself completely into the role, bringing tremendous energy and enthusiasm to Jass. Whether he is running from trouble or trying to talk his way out of impossible situations, he remains committed to the film's exaggerated tone. His performance keeps the narrative moving even when the writing begins to lose momentum.

Mrunal Thakur and Pooja Hegde provide strong screen presence as the two women at the center of the confusion. Although their characters are not given much depth, both actresses make the most of their roles and contribute effectively to the film's lighter moments. Their chemistry with Varun adds some charm to an otherwise predictable story.

The supporting cast is one of the film's strongest assets. Jimmy Shergill stands out with his deadpan delivery and commanding presence, while veterans like Johny Lever, Rajpal Yadav, Manoj Pahwa, Chunky Panday, and Rakesh Bedi provide moments of amusement. Even brief appearances leave an impression, reminding viewers of the comic talent assembled for the project.

Despite the star power, the humor often feels repetitive. Many jokes rely on familiar formulas, and the film rarely surprises the audience. Since viewers can easily predict where the story is heading, much of the suspense and comic payoff is lost. The film generates smiles more often than genuine laughter.

Technically, the film is colorful and energetic, featuring lively songs, extravagant wedding sequences, and vibrant visuals. However, style frequently overshadows substance. The narrative jumps from one comic situation to another without developing its emotional or dramatic stakes, making the experience feel uneven.

Hai Jawani Toh Ishq Hona Hai is a lighthearted entertainer that pays tribute to David Dhawan's trademark style of comedy. While it contains moments of fun and benefits from a hardworking cast, it ultimately feels like a throwback to a bygone era rather than a comedy designed for modern audiences. Fans of classic Bollywood farce may enjoy the nostalgia, but others may find the film's humor outdated and its storytelling overly familiar.

Chand Mera Dil Review: Honest Emotions Cannot Save This Dragged-Out Romance

Director - Vivek Soni

Cast - Ananya Panday, Lakshya, Aastha Singh

Runtime – 145 Minuntes

Rating – 2

Chand Mera Dil begins with a refreshing idea but slowly loses itself in its own confusion. Directed by Vivek Soni, the film tries to move away from the glossy fantasy of traditional Bollywood romances and instead focuses on what happens after love collides with reality. Backed by Dharma Productions and starring Ananya Panday and Lakshya Lalwani, the film deserves credit for attempting something emotionally grounded. Unfortunately, ambition alone is not enough to hold together a nearly two-and-a-half-hour emotional drama that struggles badly with pacing and storytelling.

The story follows Aarav and Chandni, two engineering students in Hyderabad who fall in love during college. Their romance feels natural in the beginning—filled with youthful energy, emotional impulsiveness, and the kind of confidence only young couples possess. However, one unexpected mistake changes the course of their lives, pushing them toward marriage before they are emotionally or financially ready for it. What follows is not a dreamy love story, but a difficult journey through responsibilities, misunderstandings, compromises, and emotional exhaustion.

This is where the film deserves appreciation. Instead of stopping at the point where most Bollywood romances end, Chand Mera Dil explores what happens after the big romantic decision is made. The film attempts to portray marriage not as a fairy tale, but as something messy, exhausting, and emotionally demanding. There are moments in the film that genuinely feel real. Arguments between partners, silent emotional distance, unspoken expectations, and the loneliness that exists even within relationships are portrayed effectively in certain scenes. People who have experienced heartbreak or relationship struggles may connect deeply with parts of the narrative.

However, the problem is that the film mistakes slowness for emotional depth. The first half remains engaging because the chemistry between the lead actors keeps the story alive. But after the interval, the screenplay becomes repetitive and directionless. Scenes drag on for too long, conversations repeat the same emotional points, and the narrative begins to feel emotionally exhausting instead of impactful. The film keeps circling around the same conflict without taking the story anywhere meaningful for a long time.

The biggest surprise of the film is undoubtedly Ananya Panday. This is easily one of the strongest performances of her career. She appears far more controlled and emotionally mature than in her previous films. There is no unnecessary exaggeration in her expressions or dialogue delivery. Instead, she plays Chandni with sincerity and restraint, which works beautifully for the character. Several emotional scenes belong entirely to her, and she handles them with confidence. Viewers who have often criticized her acting may genuinely walk out surprised after watching this performance.

Lakshya Lalwani is equally impressive. The film heavily depends on his emotional presence, and he delivers consistently throughout. Whether portraying a young man deeply in love or someone slowly breaking under pressure, Lakshya performs with remarkable honesty. In a few scenes, his screen presence and emotional vulnerability even remind one of Ranbir Kapoor. He has the charisma and emotional intensity of a mainstream Bollywood star, and this film proves that he is capable of carrying a complex romantic drama on his shoulders.

Sadly, the supporting cast is barely utilized. Characters played by Aastha Singh, Pratham Rathod, Resad Azim, Elvis Jose, and Ankur Poddar exist mostly to move the plot forward whenever required. The film had opportunities to build stronger emotional layers through side characters, but those opportunities are ignored.

Director Vivek Soni, who previously made films like Meenakshi Sundareshwar, once again tries to blend realism with romance. But this time, the writing becomes the film’s weakest point. Along with writers Tushar Paranjape and Akshat Ghildial, Soni creates an emotionally rich setup but fails to shape it into a satisfying narrative. The climax, in particular, feels disappointing because the film suddenly abandons its realistic tone in favor of a safer and more familiar Bollywood-style emotional resolution.

The music by Sachin-Jigar and lyrics by Amitabh Bhattacharya support the emotional atmosphere well, but the soundtrack alone cannot rescue the film from its sluggish storytelling.

In the end, Chand Mera Dil feels like a film with strong intentions but incomplete execution. It contains honesty, good performances, and emotionally relatable moments, yet it becomes too slow and unfocused to leave a lasting impact. Watch it for Ananya Panday and Lakshya’s performances, but do not expect a memorable romantic drama overall.

System Review: A Sensitive Courtroom Drama That Wins Through Performances, Not Tension

Director- Ashwiny lyer Tiwari

Cast- Sonakshi Sinha, Jyotika, Ashutosh Gowarikar, Vijayant Kohli, Gaurav Pandey, Nishant Singh, Addinath Kothare, Sayandeep Sengupta

Platform - Amazon Prime Video

Runtime - 123 minutes

Rating – 2

System is not the kind of courtroom film that thrives on loud arguments, shocking revelations, or dramatic legal twists every fifteen minutes. Instead, director Ashwiny Iyer Tiwari chooses a quieter and more emotional route, focusing less on legal spectacle and more on the emotional burdens carried by the people fighting these battles. The result is a film that feels sincere and emotionally grounded, even though it occasionally struggles to maintain narrative momentum.

The story revolves around Neha Rajvansh, played by Sonakshi Sinha, a young lawyer trying to establish herself outside the shadow of her famous father Ravi Rajvansh, portrayed by Ashutosh Gowariker. Ravi is one of the most respected lawyers in the profession, but he firmly believes success should never be inherited. He refuses to give Neha any professional advantage simply because she is his daughter, forcing her to prove herself independently.

While struggling to build her career, Neha meets Sarika, played brilliantly by Jyothika. Sarika works as a stenographer and spends most of her life balancing work with responsibilities at home, including caring for her wheelchair-bound husband. Initially, she appears to be just another hardworking woman trying to survive difficult circumstances. But Neha slowly discovers that Sarika possesses a sharp legal mind and an instinctive understanding of courtroom dynamics. Their professional relationship gradually evolves into a partnershipp built on trust and mutual respect.

The emotional core of the film truly emerges when circumstances place Neha directly opposite her own father in court. What could have been treated as a standard courtroom conflict instead becomes a deeply personal battle involving pride, emotional wounds, family expectations, and self-worth. The film is at its best in these quieter emotional moments, where the characters are forced to confront not just legal truths but also uncomfortable personal realities.

The strongest aspect of System is unquestionably its performances. Jyothika delivers the most memorable performance in the film. Without relying on dramatic monologues or exaggerated emotions, she brings tremendous depth to Sarika. There is a visible exhaustion in her expressions, but beneath that fatigue lies resilience and quiet dignity. Some of her most effective scenes are the ones where she says very little. Her silence often communicates more than lengthy dialogues ever could.

Sonakshi Sinha also continues her recent streak of choosing more layered and performance-driven roles. After projects like Dahaad and Heeramandi, she once again moves away from glamorous stereotypes and delivers a restrained performance focused on emotional realism. As Neha, she convincingly portrays the frustration of constantly trying to earn validation in a profession where her surname becomes both an advantage and a burden. Her emotional scenes work particularly well because she avoids overplaying them.

Ashutosh Gowariker has limited screen time, but his calm and authoritative presence adds weight to the film. Interestingly, audiences often associate him more with direction than acting, but films like Ventilator have already shown his acting capabilities. In System, he portrays Ravi with restraint, ensuring the character never feels entirely cold or antagonistic. That balance makes the father-daughter conflict more believable.

Ashwiny Iyer Tiwari deserves credit for keeping the film understated. She avoids turning the courtroom scenes into overdramatic cinematic set-pieces. The legal proceedings feel grounded and believable, which helps maintain the emotional authenticity of the story. The film never screams for attention; instead, it quietly unfolds through conversations, silences, and emotional confrontations.

However, where the film falters is in its writing. The screenplay introduces several interesting ideas and emotional subplots but fails to fully explore many of them. Certain storylines appear important initially, only to disappear midway without meaningful resolution. The film repeatedly hints at emotional depth but does not always dig deeply enough into its themes. As a result, some moments that should have felt emotionally devastating end up feeling merely effective.

The pacing also becomes uneven in places. A tighter edit could have significantly improved the overall impact, especially during the middle portions where the narrative occasionally drifts. The climax, while emotionally decent, lacks the powerful payoff the film seems to build toward throughout its runtime.

Despite these shortcomings, System remains watchable because of its emotional honesty and strong performances. It is less interested in shocking the audience and more interested in understanding its characters. Viewers expecting a fast-paced courtroom thriller may find it too subdued, but those who appreciate relationship-driven dramas with emotional nuance will likely connect with it more deeply.

In the end, System is an imperfect yet sincere film elevated by its cast. It may not fully achieve the emotional power it aims for, but it still manages to leave behind a quiet impact.

Pati Patni Aur Woh 2 Review: A Loud Comedy That Mistakes Confusion for Entertainment

Writer/Director - Mudassar Aziz

Cast - Ayushmann Khurrana, Wamiqa Gabbi, Sara Ali Khan, Rakul Preet Singh.

Runtime – 117 Minutes

Rating – 2

Pati Patni Aur Woh 2 tries to revive the familiar chaos of relationship-based comedy, but ends up recycling the same misunderstandings until they lose all charm. Directed by Mudassar Aziz, the film brings together a strong cast and a promising setup, yet struggles to turn its simple idea into something fresh or engaging.

The story follows Prajapati Pandey, played by Ayushmann Khurrana, a forest officer working in Prayagraj. He is married to Aparna, a TV journalist portrayed by Wamiqa Gabbi. Their seemingly stable married life takes an unexpected turn when Aparna’s friend Nilofar, played by Rakul Preet Singh, becomes professionally connected to Prajapati in the Forest Department.

The situation becomes more complicated when Prajapati’s college friend Chanchal, played by Sara Ali Khan, re-enters his life after years of separation. She is planning to marry her boyfriend and asks Prajapati for help in arranging things. What should have been a simple reunion quickly turns into a chain reaction of misunderstandings, misinterpretations, and exaggerated reactions.

From this point onward, the film depends entirely on the classic “you heard half a conversation and assumed the worst” formula. Characters constantly walk in at the wrong time, overhear incomplete sentences, and jump to conclusions. Unfortunately, the film never attempts to go beyond this predictable loop. Instead of building comedy through clever writing or situational depth, it repeats the same pattern until it becomes exhausting.

The biggest issue with Pati Patni Aur Woh 2 is not its simplicity, but its lack of creativity. A basic storyline can still work if handled with fresh energy or sharp writing, but here the screenplay offers very little variation. By the time the intermission arrives, it becomes almost obvious how every misunderstanding will unfold in the second half. There is no surprise, no escalation, and no real payoff.

Mudassar Aziz tries to give the film a strong “small-town UP” flavor, but the execution often feels forced. The heavy use of local slang and accent sometimes feels exaggerated to the point where characters appear more like caricatures than real people. Instead of enhancing authenticity, it occasionally disrupts it.

The film’s humor swings between two extremes—on one side, it feels like exaggerated WhatsApp-style jokes, and on the other, it resembles the over-the-top confusion of daily soap operas. Very few moments feel naturally funny. Most comedic situations appear constructed rather than organic, which weakens the overall impact.

Ayushmann Khurrana, as always, brings sincerity to his performance, but the writing does not support him enough. He falls back on familiar traits seen in his earlier films like Dream Girl, Bala, and Shubh Mangal Saavdhan. While his comic timing remains strong, the repetitive nature of the script makes his performance feel routine in several places.

Wamiqa Gabbi stands out as the most grounded performer in the film. She brings emotional balance and seriousness to her role, preventing the film from slipping completely into chaos. Her performance has a natural sincerity that makes her scenes more believable than most of what surrounds her.

Sara Ali Khan, however, is given a character that thrives on high energy and exaggerated reactions. While she clearly commits to the role, the performance often feels overly loud and theatrical, as if every scene is designed for maximum social-media-style impact. This makes her character less effective in maintaining tonal consistency.

Rakul Preet Singh is placed in a somewhat limited role, mostly serving as a trigger for misunderstandings and suspicion. Despite the writing constraints, she performs her part with confidence and clarity, even if the character itself lacks depth.

In the end, Pati Patni Aur Woh 2 is a film that keeps trying to generate comedy through confusion, but rarely moves beyond repetition. It has a talented cast and a familiar setup, but the execution feels stretched and predictable. What should have been a fun, breezy comedy ends up feeling like the same joke told too many times.

Kartavya Review: Saif Ali Khan Anchors a Dark Rural Thriller That Tries to Say Too Much

Writer/Director – Pulkit

Cast - Saif Ali Khan, Rasika Dugal, Sanjay Mishra, Saurabh Dwivedi, Zakir Hussain, Manish Chaudhari. Yudhvir Ahlawat

Runtime – 108 Minutes

Platform – Netflix

Rating – 3

Kartavya is one of those films that begins with enormous promise. It creates an atmosphere filled with tension, political unease, and emotional conflict, making you believe you are about to witness a deeply layered rural thriller. Directed by Pulkit, the film dives into themes of corruption, caste politics, abuse of power, and fractured family relationships. While the film succeeds in building a believable and unsettling world, it eventually loses momentum under the weight of its own ambitions.

The story follows Pawan Malik, played by Saif Ali Khan, a police officer posted in the fictional town of Jhamli in Haryana. Pawan is assigned to investigate the murder of a journalist, but the deeper he digs into the case, the more dangerous the truth becomes. What initially appears to be a straightforward investigation slowly exposes connections involving politicians, religious figures, and powerful local networks that thrive on fear and silence.

At the same time, Pawan’s personal life begins falling apart. His younger brother chooses to run away for a love marriage, triggering a storm inside the family and the community. Suddenly, the issue is no longer just about relationships—it becomes entangled with caste identity, family honor, and social pressure. The film smartly runs these two parallel narratives together: one involving crime and corruption, the other rooted in emotional and familial conflict.

For a significant portion of its runtime, Kartavya manages this balance impressively well. The family drama never feels disconnected from the police investigation, and both tracks contribute to the growing sense of tension. The portions involving Anand Shri’s ashram are especially effective because they tap into fears and realities that feel disturbingly familiar in today’s socio-political environment. These moments give the film a sense of urgency and realism that keeps the audience invested.

However, the screenplay begins to weaken after the interval. The film becomes overly dependent on twists and revelations, as though it constantly needs to shock the audience to maintain engagement. While a few of these twists genuinely work, others feel forced and unnecessarily dramatic. Instead of strengthening the emotional impact, the constant narrative turns begin to dilute it. The story gradually loses focus, and by the final act, the emotional grip established earlier starts slipping away.

Saif Ali Khan is undoubtedly the biggest strength of the film. Over the years, some of his best performances have come when he has stepped away from polished urban characters and embraced more grounded roles. As Pawan Malik, he brings vulnerability, anger, exhaustion, and helplessness together beautifully. He does not play the character as a heroic cinematic cop, but as a deeply flawed man trying to survive pressures coming from every direction. In several scenes, Saif communicates more through silence and expression than through dialogue. His Haryanvi accent feels surprisingly natural and never distracts from the performance.

That said, the second half occasionally pushes his character into repetitive emotional territory. The constant outbursts and frustration begin to feel somewhat overused, making certain scenes less impactful than they could have been.

Rasika Dugal delivers another sincere and understated performance, although the film does not utilize her talent fully. She brings warmth and realism to her role, but her character is mostly limited to supporting Pawan emotionally. The script never allows her to emerge as a fully independent force within the narrative. Similarly, Sanjay Mishra leaves an impression despite limited screen time, proving once again how effortlessly he can command attention.

Manish Chaudhary fits perfectly into the role of an arrogant senior officer, while Zakir Hussain adds genuine menace to the film. His character is deeply unpleasant, but that discomfort works entirely in favor of the story. One of the biggest surprises, however, is Yudhvir Ahlawat. He portrays a frightened young man trapped under social and emotional pressure with remarkable honesty. His emotional scenes feel raw and authentic.

Visually, the film is extremely effective. The dusty landscapes, dimly lit police stations, village politics, and constant feeling of unease create an immersive atmosphere. In fact, there are moments when the cinematography leaves a stronger impact than the screenplay itself. The background score also plays a major role in maintaining tension throughout the film.

Pulkit’s previous work, Bhakshak, felt tighter and more focused. Kartavya appears to exist in a similar thematic space, tackling institutional corruption and exploitation, but this time the storytelling lacks the same sharpness. The film raises too many issues at once and struggles to give all of them equal emotional and narrative depth.

In the end, Kartavya remains an engaging but uneven experience. It is elevated significantly by Saif Ali Khan’s performance and its immersive atmosphere, yet weakened by an overstuffed screenplay and a climax that fails to land with the power it promises. It is a good film with flashes of brilliance, but it stops just short of becoming truly exceptional.

Director - Ashish R Mohan

Writer - Shubhra Gupta

Cast - Neetu Kapoor Singh, Kapil Sharma, R Sarathkumar, Sadia Khateeb, Tejaswini Kolhapure, Riddhima Kapoor, Yograj Singh, Jitender Hooda, Deepak Dutta, Aditi Mittal, Nikhat Khan

Rating – 2

Runtime – 2h35m

Daadi Ki Shaadi arrives with a charmingly rebellious premise — a grandmother deciding to get married again and the entire family collapsing into panic over “log kya kahenge.” Directed by Ashish R Mohan, the film tries to package generational conflict, loneliness, romance and family values into a wholesome entertainer. On paper, it sounds like the perfect recipe for a warm-hearted family dramedy. Unfortunately, while the intentions remain admirable, the execution rarely rises above a stretched television sitcom.

The story revolves around Daadi, played by Neetu Kapoor, whose decision to remarry shocks her children and grandchildren alike. The announcement sends the family rushing from Delhi to Shimla in an attempt to stop the wedding before “society” begins judging them. The film smartly taps into the hypocrisy surrounding women and aging, questioning why older women are still expected to suppress companionship, desire and individuality once they cross a certain age. It is a relevant theme with genuine emotional potential, especially in Indian family dynamics where appearances often matter more than emotional truth.

Neetu Kapoor is easily the film’s biggest strength. She brings grace, charm and emotional ease to Daadi, making the character consistently engaging even when the screenplay falters around her. There is warmth in her performance that naturally holds scenes together, and she manages to make Daadi feel playful, vulnerable and quietly strong at the same time. Whether she is teasing family members or confronting emotional loneliness, Neetu remains effortlessly watchable throughout the film.

Kapil Sharma once again proves that he is capable of more than comic punchlines. After showing surprising depth in Zwigato, he brings sincerity here too, though the screenplay gives him frustratingly little to work with. His romantic equation with Sadia Khateeb never develops convincingly, largely because the film sidelines their relationship midway through the narrative. Their chemistry feels underwritten rather than emotionally lived-in, making the romantic subplot feel more obligatory than essential.

The supporting cast adds some life to the film. R Sarathkumar brings dignified charm to Daadi’s potential groom, while Riddhima Kapoor makes a noticeable appearance as the demanding daughter. Actors like Aditi Mittal, Tejaswini Kolhapure and Yograj Singh contribute to the crowded family atmosphere, though most characters remain broad archetypes rather than fully realized individuals.

The biggest issue lies in the writing and treatment. The film often stages scenes like a dated television serial, with characters lined up waiting for their dialogue cue before dramatically reacting and exiting. Emotional confrontations lack subtlety, and several moments are weighed down by repetitive moral lectures about family values, loneliness and responsibility. What could have been a nuanced exploration of aging and emotional freedom instead becomes increasingly melodramatic in the second half.

Ironically, the film works best during its lighter moments. The early portions carry an easygoing charm, balancing humor and awkward family reactions effectively. There is genuine fun in watching younger family members challenge the older generation’s conservative thinking. However, as the film progresses, it abandons that playful energy and sinks into emotionally manipulative territory. The pacing becomes sluggish, scenes stretch unnecessarily and the screenplay begins overexplaining every emotional beat instead of trusting the audience to understand it naturally.

Still, Daadi Ki Shaadi deserves credit for centering an older woman’s emotional life in mainstream Hindi cinema. Even with its flaws, the film asks an important question — why should companionship, romance or personal happiness have an expiry date for women? It may not fully succeed as a sharp family dramedy, but Neetu Kapoor’s warm performance and the film’s progressive core idea prevent it from becoming entirely forgettable. Beneath the melodrama and sitcom-style execution lies a genuinely meaningful conversation that deserved a far stronger film around it.

Director - Ashish R. Shukla

Writers - Varun Badola, Umesh Padalkar

Creator: Siddharth Sengupta

Cast - Harsh Chhaya, Surya Sharma, Dibyendu Bhattacharya, Anchal Singh, Ankur Rathee, Gautam Rode, Varun Badola

Episodes: 8

Platform – SonyLIV

Rating – 2.5

Undekhi returns for its fourth and final season with the same grim understanding that has defined the franchise from the beginning — evil never disappears, it simply evolves. Set five years after the previous season, the new chapter pushes its characters deeper into moral decay, power struggles and emotional damage. The result is an intense, gripping and occasionally messy finale that remains consistently watchable despite uneven storytelling choices.

The season wastes no time in establishing how little has changed within the Atwal empire. Harsh Chhaya’s Papaji may now be behind bars, but prison has done absolutely nothing to soften him. He remains as volatile, abusive and terrifyingly manipulative as ever. Meanwhile, Surya Sharma’s Rinku has fully stepped into power, inheriting Mahinder Atwal’s empire and carrying forward its culture of fear with chilling confidence. What makes Rinku fascinating is that he no longer behaves like an impulsive loose cannon. He now understands patience, strategy and control — qualities that somehow make him even more dangerous.

Varun Badola’s Mahinder Atwal, now operating quietly from the shadows, proves once again that visibility is not necessary when fear itself becomes power. The show smartly allows him to linger over the narrative like an invisible threat rather than constantly forcing his presence into every scene. That understated menace continues to work strongly for the series, especially as the trafficking investigation begins unraveling darker secrets around the family.

One of the season’s biggest emotional shocks arrives almost immediately — Teji is dead following a car crash. The revelation completely shifts the emotional dynamic of the story, especially with Daman now helping raise Teji’s daughter Samaira alongside her husband Vikram Saluja. It is a deeply uncomfortable arrangement layered with guilt, grief and unresolved history. The series wisely avoids melodramatic overexplanation here, instead allowing emotional tension to quietly simmer underneath conversations and silences.

Gautam Rode emerges as one of the strongest additions to the season. As Vikram Saluja, he brings a composed stillness that constantly feels suspicious without becoming obviously sinister. The writing deliberately withholds information about his true intentions, creating an ambiguity that becomes increasingly compelling across the eight episodes. Every interaction involving Saluja feels loaded with something unspoken, and Gautam Rode plays that uncertainty remarkably well.

The emotional and moral centre of the show, however, still comes from the conflict between Rinku and DSP Ghosh. Their relationship remains one of the most layered aspects of Undekhi because neither man can fully detach himself from the other. Dibyendu Bhattacharya once again brings grounded decency to Ghosh, anchoring the series whenever the surrounding darkness threatens to become emotionally overwhelming. The tragedy of their dynamic lies in how deeply they understand one another while standing on completely opposite sides of morality.

What Undekhi Season 4 does better than previous seasons is humanizing its monsters without excusing them. Rinku and Papaji are not suddenly softened into sympathetic antiheroes, but the writing allows glimpses into their fears, insecurities and warped emotional logic. That moral grey zone becomes the show’s greatest strength. There are moments where viewers may unexpectedly find themselves understanding people they should fundamentally despise, and the series fully understands the discomfort of that reaction.

Visually, the series continues to excel. The cold beauty of Manali remains the perfect backdrop for a world filled with dread, violence and corruption. The cinematography constantly balances scenic calmness with emotional brutality, making the setting feel almost like another silent character within the narrative. New additions like Saqib Ayub’s deeply unsettling DJ further amplify the atmosphere of unpredictable danger surrounding the Atwal empire.

Still, the season is not without flaws. The writing occasionally buckles under the weight of too many subplots, introducing fresh crime angles and characters without fully developing them. The pacing remains relentlessly fast, but that speed sometimes prevents emotional moments from landing with their full impact. As the finale approaches, certain twists feel predictable while some storylines seem rushed or abruptly resolved. The climax delivers tension, but not necessarily the emotional devastation the show appears to be aiming for.

Even so, Undekhi Season 4 succeeds because it understands exactly what kind of show it wants to be. It never attempts to reinvent itself into something cleaner or more heroic. Instead, it remains committed to exploring power, corruption and survival within a world where morality has almost completely collapsed. Messy yet gripping, brutal yet emotionally layered, the final season may not land perfectly, but it keeps viewers invested until the very end — and in a crime thriller this morally dark, that itself feels like a victory.

Lukkhe Review: A Chaotic, Gritty And Surprisingly Addictive Ride Through Rap, Rage And Ruin

Director: Himank Gaur

Cast: Raashii Khanna, King, Palak Tiwari, Lakshvir Saran, Shivankit Singh Parihar, Kritika Bharadwaj, Nakul Sahadev

Writer - Debojit Das Purkayastha and Agrim Joshi

Episodes – 8

Platform - Amazon Prime Video

Rating - 3

There is chaos in every corner of Lukkhe, and strangely, that becomes its biggest strength. Directed by Himank Gaur, the eight-episode crime-musical drama throws rap rivalries, gang wars, synthetic drugs, betrayal, ambition and revenge into one explosive blender. Streaming on Amazon Prime Video, the series rarely slows down, constantly pushing its characters into emotional and violent collisions. At times, the overload becomes exhausting, but the sheer energy of the storytelling keeps the show consistently binge-worthy.

What immediately works in Lukkhe is its atmosphere. The world feels unstable, loud and dangerous, exactly the kind of environment where emotions erupt before logic can catch up. The rap battles are staged with raw intensity and the action choreography lands surprisingly well for a streaming series. Even when the writing starts juggling too many subplots at once, the pacing ensures there is never a dull stretch. The show understands how to hold attention, even if it occasionally loses control of its own ambition.

Writers Agrim Joshi and Debojit Das Purkayastha deserve credit for giving almost every major character a proper emotional arc. The series avoids reducing people into simplistic heroes and villains. Instead, it spends time exploring insecurities, desperation, emotional wounds and the hunger for validation. That layered writing gives the show emotional texture, especially in a genre where style often dominates substance. Even side characters feel like products of a broken system rather than mere plot devices.

The biggest surprise, however, is undoubtedly King in his acting debut as MC Badnaam. He brings a quiet menace to the role that feels unexpectedly natural. Beneath the rage and arrogance sits a man carrying years of humiliation and emotional damage. King smartly avoids overperforming and instead allows silence, expression and restrained anger to do most of the work. His performance captures the dangerous intersection between vulnerability and power obsession, making MC Badnaam one of the show’s most compelling characters.

Raashii Khanna delivers a confident performance despite limited screen time. As cop Gurbani, she carries emotional weight convincingly, especially in scenes connected to her personal hatred toward drugs. Palak Tiwari also performs well during quieter emotional moments, though there are instances where she appears slightly too polished for the gritty world the show is trying to create. In contrast, Kritika Bharadwaj feels far more rooted within the universe of the series, bringing a natural ease that makes her scenes believable.

Lakshvir Saran leaves a strong impact too, particularly during emotionally vulnerable scenes. His Punjabi accent feels authentic and his performance carries emotional honesty that strengthens the show overall. However, the problem lies less with performances and more with the series trying to handle too many narrative tracks simultaneously. Lucky’s hockey portions feel underdeveloped, while several potentially interesting emotional threads disappear before they fully evolve into something meaningful.

That becomes the central issue with Lukkhe. The pacing is both its greatest weapon and biggest weakness. The fast-moving storytelling keeps the thrill alive, but emotions often need silence and breathing space to truly hit hard. Betrayals, grief and emotional collapse arrive quickly, only to be replaced by another dramatic twist moments later. As a result, viewers understand what characters are feeling without always emotionally connecting to those feelings themselves. The show rarely allows pain to linger long enough to leave a lasting scar.

Still, Lukkhe remains an entertaining and ambitious watch. It feels most alive during its darker moments — the rap rivalry, the violence and the drug crisis create far more impact than the romantic subplots. Despite its flaws, the series succeeds because it takes risks, embraces chaos and delivers strong performances throughout. More importantly, it leaves behind genuine curiosity for what comes next. If a second season happens, Lukkhe has the potential to become even grittier, sharper and emotionally more devastating than it already is.

Krishnavataram Review: A Visually Grand Mythological Drama Held Together By Faith And Emotion

Writer/director – Hardik Gajjar

Cast - Siddharth Gupta, Sanskruti Jayana, Sushmitha Bhat and Nivaashiyni Krishnan.

Runtime – 150 Minutes

Rating - 2..5

Krishnavataram Part 1: The Heart arrives with enormous ambition and even bigger spiritual intent. Written and directed by Hardik Gajjar, the film attempts to reimagine the mythology of Lord Krishna through an emotionally layered and visually extravagant lens. Spanning nearly 150 minutes, the film blends mythology, devotion, romance and philosophy into one sprawling cinematic experience. While the execution occasionally struggles under its own scale, the sincerity behind the storytelling remains undeniable throughout.

The narrative begins at the moment of Krishna’s death after being struck by hunter Jara’s arrow, placing the divine figure between earthly closure and spiritual transcendence. From there, the film moves into the present day, where a rational young man questioning God’s existence visits the Jagannath Temple in Puri and becomes immersed in Krishna’s story. It is an interesting framing device that allows the film to bridge mythology with modern skepticism, though the transition between timelines occasionally feels uneven.

What makes Krishnavataram stand apart from conventional mythological dramas is its emotional perspective. Instead of merely glorifying Krishna as a divine figure, the story chooses to explore him through the eyes of Satyabhama. Adapted from Satyabhama, the film gives overdue importance to a character often overshadowed in mainstream retellings. Through Satyabhama, the narrative explores jealousy, devotion, insecurity and emotional attachment, contrasting her human love with Radha’s eternal spiritual connection and Rukmini’s quiet strength. The film’s greatest achievement lies in presenting these relationships not as mythology alone, but as emotional philosophies of love itself.

Visually, the film is undeniably stunning. Every frame feels soaked in grandeur, from the opulent palace interiors of Dwarka to the carefully staged dance sequences and battle imagery. The production design constantly aims for scale and succeeds more often than not. Director Hardik Gajjar approaches the material with visible reverence, crafting moments that feel painterly and immersive. The cinematography and costume design contribute heavily to the film’s dreamlike atmosphere, making it a theatrical experience clearly designed for the big screen.

The performances from the largely fresh cast come as a pleasant surprise. Siddharth Gupta brings calmness and grace to Krishna, avoiding excessive dramatics and instead leaning into serenity and emotional restraint. Sanskruti Jayana emerges as the emotional anchor of the film, portraying Satyabhama with both fierceness and vulnerability. Sushmitha Bhat lends Radha a spiritual softness, while Nivaashiyni Krishnan gives Rukmini quiet dignity and emotional depth. For a cast filled with relatively newer faces, the performances carry sincerity that helps the film emotionally connect.

Another major strength is the music by Prasad S, which elevates several scenes beyond dialogue and spectacle. The background score understands when to become devotional and when to turn emotionally intimate. The songs and choreography feel integrated into the storytelling rather than existing as interruptions. Some sequences achieve genuine emotional beauty simply through music, visuals and movement working together harmoniously.

However, the film is not without flaws. The runtime feels excessively stretched in places and the screenplay occasionally becomes too indulgent in its own grandeur. Several scenes linger longer than necessary, slowing the narrative momentum considerably. The modern-day portions involving the skeptical protagonist also feel underdeveloped compared to the mythological narrative. At times, the dialogue leans too heavily into exposition, explaining emotions and philosophy rather than allowing them to emerge naturally through the storytelling.

Still, Krishnavataram remains an ambitious and visually rich cinematic effort that deserves appreciation for attempting something emotionally and spiritually layered within mainstream mythological cinema. It is a film driven more by devotion and conviction than commercial formulas. More importantly, it lays the foundation for what could become an emotionally expansive trilogy exploring Krishna beyond the familiar legends. Imperfect yet heartfelt, Krishnavataram succeeds most when it stops trying to impress and simply allows faith, love and mythology to speak for themselves.

Director - Joe Russo

Showrunner/Writer - David Weil

Cast - Priyanka Chopra Jonas, Richard Madden, Stanley Tucci, Lesley Manville, Jack Reynor, Matt Berry, Lina El Arabi, Gabriel Leone

Episodes – 7

Platform – Prime Video

Rating - 3

Citadel returns for its second season with larger ambitions, slicker action and significantly tighter storytelling than its uneven debut chapter. This time, Joe Russo takes full control by directing all seven episodes, clearly attempting to inject the emotional weight and blockbuster scale that defined films like Avengers: Infinity War and Avengers: Endgame. The result is definitely an improvement over season one, but despite the upgraded spectacle, Citadel still struggles to feel emotionally alive beyond its polished spy-thriller surface.

The season picks up immediately after the events of the first installment, with Stanley Tucci’s Bernard Orlick delivering a quick recap before diving back into the chaos. Thankfully, the series finally allows Tucci to do more than sit tied to a chair looking stressed. Watching him embrace action mode with sharp sarcasm and understated menace becomes one of the season’s unexpected pleasures. He brings wit and gravitas into scenes that otherwise risk becoming mechanically serious, often feeling far more engaging than the central emotional arcs around him.

One of the more interesting additions this season is the subtle expansion of the Citadel universe through callbacks to Citadel: Honey Bunny by Raj Nidimoru and Krishna D.K.. The cameo involving Honey creates a meaningful bridge between the international and Indian stories while adding emotional context to Nadia’s character. The idea of generational trauma within a world built around espionage gives the show brief flashes of emotional intelligence that the first season sorely lacked.

Those emotional flashes work largely because of Priyanka Chopra Jonas. As Nadia, she once again proves she can carry emotionally layered material even when the writing barely slows down long enough to explore it properly. One particularly moving scene involving the classic song Aa Chalke Tujhe stands out as the season’s emotional high point. In that moment, the show finally pauses its relentless spy theatrics and allows vulnerability, memory and motherhood to breathe naturally. Priyanka delivers the scene with heartbreaking restraint, quietly reminding viewers of the depth she has always been capable of as a performer.

At the same time, there is a growing sense of repetition surrounding Priyanka’s recent international projects. Whether in The Bluff, Heads of State or Citadel, she increasingly finds herself playing variations of emotionally wounded yet hyper-capable women carrying dangerous pasts. She still commits fully to the role, but Citadel rarely gives her material rich enough to truly challenge her range beyond intense stares, action choreography and maternal protectiveness.

Richard Madden continues to feel strangely detached as Mason Kane. In fact, the show itself jokingly describes him as a “sexy robot,” which unintentionally becomes the most accurate review of his performance. His emotional track involving mother Dahlia Archer, played by Lesley Manville, never fully lands despite the series repeatedly trying to inject psychological depth into their relationship. Similarly, the love triangle involving Nadia, Mason and Abby feels more functional than emotionally compelling, existing largely to create tension rather than meaningful emotional conflict.

Where Citadel undeniably succeeds is action. Joe Russo understands rhythm, escalation and visual momentum extremely well. The close-combat fights, betrayals and tactical set pieces maintain tension throughout the season, even if the constant double-crossing eventually becomes exhausting. Unlike The Gray Man, the action here feels slightly more contained and character-driven rather than purely gigantic in scale. Supporting players like Massimo Rigo and Jack Reynor also bring welcome charisma and unpredictability into the narrative, often outshining the emotionally muted protagonists.

Ultimately, Citadel season 2 works best as a stylish binge rather than a deeply affecting spy saga. It is sharper, more coherent and more entertaining than the first season, but the emotional writing still lacks the complexity needed to elevate it beyond premium streaming spectacle. Joe Russo successfully raises the intensity and scale, but the soul of the series remains frustratingly underdeveloped. Still, for viewers invested in slick espionage, polished action and Priyanka Chopra commanding the screen, Citadel season 2 delivers enough adrenaline to make the ride worthwhile — even if the high fades quickly after the credits roll.

Director - Karan Anshuman, Kanishk Varma

Cast - Pulkit Samrat, Divyenndu, Suvinder Vicky, Ashutosh Rana, Sikander Kher, Sayani Gupta, Kashmira Pardeshi, Vishal Vashishtha, Zakir Hussain, Yashpal Sharma, Jannat Zubair Rahmani, Kunal Thakur

Episode – 7

Platform – Netflix

Rating – 2

Glory enters the crowded space of small-town crime thrillers with boxing rings, fractured families, khap politics and violence stitched into its DNA. Set in the fictional Haryana town of Shaktigarh, the seven-episode series attempts to combine sports drama, family conflict, murder mystery and social commentary into one sprawling narrative. At its core lies a story about ambition, masculinity and emotional damage, but the show often struggles under the weight of trying to become too many things at once.

The series opens exactly the way modern streaming thrillers now seem contractually obligated to — with bodies dropping within the first few minutes. In fact, Glory wastes barely nine minutes before delivering multiple deaths, immediately announcing itself as a world driven by brutality and tension. The atmosphere is sweaty, volatile and aggressively masculine, where boxing rings become extensions of emotional warfare rather than merely sporting arenas.

At the centre of the chaos is Suvinder Vicky as Raghubir Singh, a respected yet emotionally destructive boxing coach whose obsession with Olympic glory leaves deep scars on his family. Suvinder Vicky once again proves why he remains one of the most commanding performers working today. He brings both menace and tragic vulnerability to Raghubir, making him feel like a man who genuinely believes ambition justifies emotional cruelty. The show works best whenever it stays close to him and the damage his relentless pursuit of success inflicts on his sons.

Divyendu Sharma delivers a solid performance as Dev, carrying years of resentment and unresolved anger beneath his swagger. His scenes with Raghubir carry emotional weight because the bitterness feels lived-in rather than theatrically exaggerated. Pulkit Samrat also gets an opportunity to break away from his polished screen image, throwing himself convincingly into the physically demanding boxing sequences. The strained relationship between the brothers and their father remains the emotional backbone of the series, and it is easily the strongest material the show has to offer.

The boxing portions themselves are staged effectively. The fights feel raw, exhausting and painful rather than stylized for glamour. There is a physical heaviness to the action that works well within the gritty tone of the series. Some training and ring sequences genuinely capture the emotional desperation attached to the sport, particularly in a world where boxing becomes the only visible escape route from social and economic suffocation.

Unfortunately, Glory repeatedly undermines its own strengths by overcrowding the narrative with unnecessary subplots and exaggerated twists. Every time the series appears ready to settle into a grounded family drama or sports thriller, it abruptly introduces another layer — corrupt cops, trafficking rings, prostitution rackets, honour killings, closeted sexuality, manipulative femme fatales and cartoonishly violent gangsters. The result is a story that constantly loses emotional focus because it refuses to trust its strongest central conflict.

The supporting characters further highlight this inconsistency. Sayani Gupta’s investigative journalist feels oddly inserted into the narrative without enough grounding in the world around her. Ashutosh Rana and Sikandar Kher bring intensity to their eccentric characters, but the writing often pushes them toward exaggerated theatrics rather than believable menace. Meanwhile, Yashpal Sharma stands out largely because he feels organically rooted within the Haryanvi setting, carrying the dialect and social texture far more naturally than many others in the ensemble.

One of the show’s recurring issues is its desperation to constantly shock the audience. Violent moments involving executions, crushed bodies and sudden killings often feel less like narrative necessities and more like deliberate attempts to maintain viewer attention. Instead of deepening tension, this excessive brutality occasionally turns emotionally numbing. The series also struggles with its female characters, frequently reducing them to narrative devices meant to either seduce, suffer or trigger conflict within the male-dominated world.

Still, Glory remains intermittently engaging because of its performances and atmospheric grit. There is a genuinely compelling story buried beneath the clutter — a father whose obsession with victory destroys his relationship with his children, and sons trying to survive the emotional wreckage left behind. Had the series trusted that emotional core instead of constantly layering sensationalism over it, Glory could have become a far sharper and more emotionally devastating drama. Instead, it settles for being watchable, chaotic and occasionally powerful, while never quite becoming the knockout it clearly wanted to be.

Actor Tanishaa S Mukerji delighted fans with a candid and heartwarming moment as she took to social media to share her thoughts on the much-anticipated spy action thriller Dhurandhar The Revenge. Posting a late-night update, she revealed that she had taken her mother, veteran actress Tanuja, to watch the film in theatres. The duo’s genuine reaction quickly caught attention, adding to the growing buzz around the film.

 

In the video, recorded inside their car shortly after the screening, Tanishaa and Tanuja can be seen sharing an honest and enthusiastic review. Tanishaa expressed how the film kept her fully engaged throughout, emphasizing that despite its length, it never felt stretched. Her excitement was evident as she described the experience as immersive and thoroughly entertaining, encouraging audiences to give it a watch.

 

Tanuja, known for her sharp cinematic sensibilities, did not hold back her praise. She described the film as outstanding and highlighted that there were no dull or boring moments. She credited director Aditya Dhar as the true force behind the film’s success, calling him the “real hero” of the project. Her appreciation extended to the performances as well, particularly applauding Ranveer Singh for his dynamic presence and energy on screen.

 

The video also showcased the affectionate bond between the mother-daughter duo, making it more than just a film review. Their natural chemistry and warm interaction added a personal touch that resonated with fans. The clip quickly gained traction online, with viewers enjoying both the genuine feedback and the charming dynamic between the two actors.

 

Dhurandhar The Revenge, positioned as a major 2026 release, has already been generating strong engagement among audiences. Positive word-of-mouth from well-known personalities like Tanishaa and Tanuja further boosts its appeal. With praise for its gripping narrative, strong performances, and tight direction, the film continues to build momentum as a must-watch in theatres.