Written by: Siddhartha Krishnan | 8 Min Read
Dhurandhar opens with an unusually long disclaimer, firmly announcing itself as a work of fiction. What follows therafter is a mingling of fact and fiction, a narrative that is “inspired by” rather than “based on” real events. From the very first scenes, which reference the Kandahar hijack and the 2001 Parliament attack, where real life footage is juxtaposed with fictional scenes, the director makes his position clear: that creative liberties have been taken. However, I choose to take him at his word and engage with Dhurandhar for what it claims to be: a film, not a documentary. The real question then is this. As a film, is Dhurandhar any good, and does it live up to the hype?
The Story:
Dhurandhar starts off with a bang, referencing historical events, and then gradually transporting us into a world we have only glimpsed through news reports and documentaries. It is a landscape of terror, dirty politics, and hardcore brutality, where morality has long collapsed. Power, money, and domination are the only currencies that matter. The story unfolds through the eyes of Hamza (Ranveer Singh), an Indian spy tasked with infiltrating the very heart of terrorism in Pakistan by Ajay Sanyal (R.Madhavan) from the Indian Intelligence. He enters a dog-eat-dog world where survival demands savagery. Hamza must learn how these men think, identify their strengths and vulnerabilities, and make his moves with calculated invisibility. The two-hour-long first half patiently builds the world of Lyari, where crime is a way of life and rogue men commit despicable crimes. To earn their trust, Hamza must first become one of them.
Despite its longish first half, this is where the film is at its most engaging. The introduction of characters is riveting. Enter Rehman Dakait, played with chilling restraint by Akshaye Khanna, a Baloch leader determined to conquer Lyari, carve a path into Karachi’s political corridors, and secure long-denied respect for his community. Standing in his way is the vile minister Jameel Jamali, portrayed by Rakesh Bedi, a man willing to align with the devil to cling to power.
Then there is Major Iqbal, played by Arjun Rampal, a crafty ISI operator who will stop at nothing to unleash chaos in India, relying on a toxic alliance of gangsters and politicians to do his bidding. Completing this volatile quad is SP Chaudhary Aslam, played by Sanjay Dutt, a man driven by a deeply personal vendetta against Rehman Dakait and thirsting for blood. Trapped within this ruthless ecosystem, Hamza must navigate the dark alleys of Lyari, becoming an invisible presence that quietly works towards dismantling Pakistan’s terror networks from within.
Screenplay:
The screenplay, written by director Aditya Dhar, is intelligent and perfectly paced, offering several edge-of-the-seat moments. The one that lingered with me is the montage where the top goons of the rival gang are wiped out with chilling brutality by Rehman Dakait’s men. Dhar, skillfully crafts these big moments, and when they arrive the action choreography, camerawork, background score and editing operate in complete sync.
Despite the heavy use of expletives, which feels organic to the milieu and not gratuitous, the dialogue delivery remains cold and restrained, recalling the stark realism of Satya or another RGV classic, Shiva. This restraint lends the narrative a strong sense of authenticity. The only element that does not fully land is the love story between Hamza and Yalina, where the conviction that defines the rest of the film feels slightly diluted. Still, this remains a minor blemish in an otherwise tightly written film that is thrilling, dark, often funny, and unquestionably entertaining.
Technical Aspects:
From a technical standpoint, even the harshest critics will find little to fault in Dhurandhar. Lyari emerges as a character in its own right, recreated with remarkable authenticity in Thailand by the production design team. The stark landscapes of Ladakh convincingly stand in for Baloch tribal regions, while stretches shot in Mumbai and Punjab blend seamlessly into the film’s geography. Costume, hair and make-up departments show meticulous attention to detail, with several actors, notably Arjun Rampal and R. Madhavan, appearing almost unrecognizable in their transformations.
The action of Dhurandhar is another of its highlights. There is a fine art to staging brutal action. In Hindi cinema it often tips into excess, and even big-budget Hollywood films do not always make the violence feel grounded or raw. It begins with strong writing and is sustained by precise choreography, cinematography, prosthetics and sound design working in unison. Dhurandhar achieves this balance with assurance. Shashwat Sachdev’s music plays a crucial role in shaping the film’s impact. The background score is fresh, experimental and finely attuned to the film’s shifting moods. The songs too integrate naturally into the narrative.
What ultimately stands out is the synchronicity between departments. Nothing draws attention to itself. Every technical element serves the storytelling, allowing the film’s world and its scenes to unfold with controlled, unsettling effectiveness.
Performances:
Mukesh Chhabra’s casting is spot on. Every actor fits their part so organically that, after a point, you stop seeing the performer and only see the character. This level of immersion has been rare in mainstream Hindi cinema in recent years. Unsurprisingly, the performances emerge as the film’s biggest strength.
Much has been said about Akshaye Khanna’s role as Rehman Dakait. The real stroke of genius lies in the casting itself. There is an element of surprise in seeing him in this role, but it also plays perfectly to his strengths. The character demands restraint, menace, and control, with much of the emotion conveyed through silence and expressive eyes, something Khanna handles with chilling precision.
That said, Dhurandhar is ultimately carried on Ranveer Singh’s shoulders, and he delivers a performance that hits it out of the park. As Hamza, an Indian operative working in the shadows, Ranveer completely inhabits the role. The physical transformation is impressive, but it is his internal work that truly stands out. He captures Hamza’s vulnerability, intelligence, and quiet resolve with remarkable balance. Present in almost every frame, yet required to remain invisible within the narrative, Ranveer approaches the part with restraint, maturity, and exceptional control. This is easily among the finest performances of his career, possibly his best so far. With a second part slated for release in March next year, promising deeper revelations about Hamza, it is a prospect that cinegoers can look forward to with genuine excitement.
Conclusion:
Despite the controversies surrounding it, Dhurandhar emerges as one of the finest films of the year. Does it pander to a certain degree of propaganda? Yes, it does. But so have countless films in the past, across ideological spectrums. The question then is not whether propaganda exists, but whether one kind is deemed more acceptable than another. In my view, a film should be watched for what it is: a film. It is not the place to seek historical or political truth. For that, there are books, research papers, and documentaries, many of them available on this very subject.
As a reviewer, I do not believe in bringing personal ideology into the act of criticism. The responsibility is to engage with the film on its own terms. If one wishes to be an activist, that is a different calling altogether. Film criticism demands a certain distance, and an honest evaluation of craft.
The past few years have seen several so-called hyper-nationalistic films fail at the box office, not because of ideology, but because they were poorly made. No narrative can rescue a bad film. Dhurandhar succeeds because it is a well-crafted piece of cinema that delivers exactly what it promises. From its trailer, the intent is clear: a specific worldview, a hard-edged language, unflinching violence, and an adult-only viewing experience. Approaching such a film with a fixed confirmation bias is the surest way to miss what it is trying to do.
All said, it is difficult to deny the film’s technical and narrative strengths. Across departments, Dhurandhar comes out triumphant. While it may momentarily lean into a particular narrative, these instances do not derail the momentum of its gripping screenplay. The only caveat is a wish for greater honesty in its disclaimer.
Ultimately, Dhurandhar deserves to be seen for its taut writing, commanding performances, experimental score, and sustained edge-of-the-seat drama. This is cinema designed for the big screen.
Verdict:
IMDb rating: 8.6/10
My Rating: 4/5
Watch Dhurandhar in a theatre near you.
Recommended watch:
If you are interested to know more about Lyari and its gang culture watch this documentary by Vice made 13 years ago – Pakistan’s most violent city.
Pic credits: Jio Studios & B62 Studios
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About the author:
Siddhartha Krishnan is the author of ‘Two and a Half Rainbows – A Collection of Short Stories’. An enthusiastic blogger he shares his essays, travelogues, book and movie reviews on his blog (www.whatsonsidsmind.com).