In the glittering but often timid landscape of Bollywood, certain films do not merely entertain—they force a reckoning. Dhurandhar, Aditya Dhar’s sprawling 214-minute epic starring Ranveer Singh, is precisely that film. Released amid ‘predictable’ controversy and extraordinary box-office triumph, it marks an irreversible inflection point in Indian cinema’s narrative arc. This is not just another spy thriller. It is a raw, unflinching exposé of conspiracies that have festered beneath the surface of our national history, threading bare the machinations of political forces whose actions, wittingly or not, aligned with those hostile to India’s sovereignty.
For decades, mainstream Hindi cinema has operated within a self-imposed cultural straitjacket, frequently favoring what can only be described as a left-leaning, apologetic worldview. Films have romanticized cross-border amity, blurred lines between aggressor and victim, and peddled narratives of moral equivalence under the guise of secular harmony—a “Congressi” ethos of perpetual forgiveness that has come at steep cost to India’s security. Dhurandhar shatters this illusion with unapologetic force, directly confronting the long-held and so called “secular” narrative that demanded soft-pedaling against Pakistani state and non-state misadventures.
Drawing from real events—the Kandahar hijack, the Parliament attack, the 26/11 horrors—the film chronicles an Indian agent’s audacious infiltration of Karachi’s Lyari underworld and its terror-financing gangs. Ranveer Singh’s portrayal crackles with intensity, blending raw physicality with quiet resolve, while the ensemble cast including Akshaye Khanna, Sanjay Dutt, R. Madhavan, and Arjun Rampal adds layers of gravitas. Dhar’s technical prowess shines through gritty action choreography and Shashwat Sachdev’s pulsating score, transforming geopolitical shadows into visceral cinema.
Sitting in a Hyderabad theater during opening weekend, I witnessed something revealing. A young couple beside me whispered excitedly about how the film echoed stories their parents had shared from the turbulent 1990s—tales of betrayal that mainstream cinema had long glossed over. That moment crystallized why Dhurandhar resonates: it taps into shared, often unspoken, family histories that bind us as a nation. Later, over dinner, my uncle—a retired civil servant who lived through that era—leaned forward, eyes alight with vindication. “Finally,” he said, “a movie that doesn’t sugarcoat it.”
The Critics’ Predictable Recoil
Naturally, a film this bold was bound to face hostility from the usual echo chambers. We have witnessed the predictable outrage from “urban liberal” critics who have desperately tried to dismiss Dhurandhar as “jingoistic propaganda.” Outlets quick to brand it with terms like “hyper-nationalism” and “hawkish” reveal more about their own ideological lens than about the film itself. This knee-jerk categorization is a critical cop-out—confusing righteous assertiveness with aggressive chauvinism.
To call Dhurandhar jingoistic is to willfully ignore that it dissects Pakistan’s syndicate-terror nexus with documented precision, not caricature. The movie is not about empty sloganeering; it is about the justified response of a nation that has endured repeated assaults while being told by a powerful political-cultural establishment that “peace” means perpetual surrender. These critics—often the same ones who were comfortably silent when the cinematic narrative was dominated by their own preferred left-of-center political messaging—fail spectacularly in their gatekeeping attempt.
Their discomfort likely stems from the film’s refusal to sanitize history, or perhaps from its implicit challenge to their worldview. As Dhurandhar crosses ₹374 crore globally to become 2025’s fourth-highest grosser hitherto, and as social media buzzes with genuine audience acclaim, it is clear: the public has spoken. The critics’ attempts at ideological policing are crumbling against the unmistakable reality that audiences crave authenticity over artifice.
A Paradigm Shift, Not Perfection
To be clear, Dhurandhar is not without flaws. At nearly four hours, the film tests patience, with certain emotional arcs that meander when tighter editing might have better served the pace. Some sequences veer into gratuitous violence that occasionally overshadows subtler emotional beats. A touch more restraint in dialogue—which at points tips into overt exposition—might have elevated a powerful narrative to an undeniable work of art.
But these are minor blemishes that humanize the film, much like the imperfect heroes it portrays—flawed individuals driven by unyielding duty. All things considered, from production scale to narrative depth to technical execution, Dhurandhar stands as a cinematic triumph.
Cinema for an Assertive Bharat
What truly elevates Dhurandhar is its unapologetic embrace of nationalism, a sentiment Bollywood has treated with kid gloves for far too long. This is cinema crafted by assertive Indians for an assertive India. Gone are the days when nationalistic content was relegated to the fringes or watered down to appease international sensibilities or domestic gatekeepers. This film, much like The Kashmir Files and Uri before it, taps into a surge of cultural pride resonating with a resurgent nation.
A journalist friend once lamented over chai how films on similar themes were stifled by political pressures in earlier decades—scripts rewritten or shelved to avoid offending the powers that be. Dhurandhar feels like a response to that era, a declaration that Indian cinema can and should reclaim its voice. It signals the end of the Bollywood age where political correctness almost always superseded national pride, providing a template for future creators: films driven by researched, nationalistic content can be both commercially successful and culturally transformative.
The assertive Indian public, long starved of a cinematic mirror reflecting their patriotic convictions, is wholeheartedly embracing this change. This is not just about exposing a party’s complicity in national vulnerabilities; it is about fostering collective awakening. Dhurandhar encourages viewers to reject the left-leaning tropes that have dominated Bollywood—tropes that prioritized feel-good secularism over stark realities.
For every patriotic Indian, this is a must-watch—a visceral reminder of the sacrifices that underpin our freedom, serving not just as high-octane entertainment but as an essential cultural marker of a nation finally ready to tell its own story. Loudly, proudly, and without fear of outdated critical censure.
As for those critics still clinging to their apologetic narratives, perhaps it is time they recognize that the tide has turned. Indian cinema is finally charting its own course, and no amount of ideological gatekeeping will reverse it.
It is time for the pretentious Liberals to take note: Dhurandhar signals a cultural shift that cannot be silenced—a bold reimagining of narratives, unapologetic and unafraid.
— Ananth Seth
