Written by: Siddhartha Krishnan | 6 Min Read
Chapter 1: Confession Before the Storm
Dhurandhar: The Revenge opens with an extended disclaimer, even more elaborate than its predecessor. It covers depictions of violence, substance use, and clarifies that the film does not intend to offend any community or endorse the views expressed by its characters.
A measured Hindi voice-over guides viewers through these caveats, emphasising that the film is a work of fiction, albeit one “inspired by true events.” It sets the tone for what follows, a narrative across timelines, sometimes blending fact with fiction, that asks to be viewed as cinema rather than commentary.
Not a documentary. Not a history lesson.
Much like this piece you’re reading, which is meant to be taken as a review, not mistaken for an essay or an opinion column.
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Chapter 2: The Birth of a Spy
The sequel builds on the foundation laid in the first instalment, where the promise of revenge was already established. What this chapter seeks to address is the motivation behind it.
The film opens with the backstory of Jaskirat Singh Rangi, an aspiring army recruit who finds himself on death row after committing a brutal act of violence tied to a land dispute involving a local political figure. The killing of his father and the assault on his sister serve as the emotional trigger.
The setup is effective, giving context to the character’s transformation. Ranveer Singh brings a measured balance of vulnerability and rage, anchoring the opening stretch.
The narrative then shifts as Jaskirat is recruited by Indian intelligence and drawn into a covert world, marking the beginning of his evolution into Hamza.
Director Aditya Dhar re-establishes the film’s universe with confidence, maintaining continuity with the tone and scale of the first part.
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Chapter 3: Chaos, Blood and Distance
A key shift in the sequel lies in its pacing. Where the first film allowed its narrative to unfold gradually, the second opts for density, layering multiple plot developments, twists, and action set pieces in quick succession.
While individual sequences are effective, the cumulative impact is uneven. The film struggles to sustain emotional engagement, often prioritising momentum over depth. Attempts to humanise its central characters remain brief and underdeveloped.
The treatment of Major Iqbal illustrates this imbalance. Positioned as the primary antagonist, he is given a detailed backstory, including personal and historical motivations. However, limited screen time restricts the character’s impact, preventing it from reaching the memorability of the earlier antagonist, Rehman Dakait.
In the first part, Dhar juxtaposed real-life footage of terrorist attacks in India with fictional scenes. In the sequel, he plays with timelines. In both cases, the creative liberties are evident, but it is the blending of truth and fiction that is a bit jarring. At times, this mix becomes so seamless that an unassuming viewer may find it difficult to distinguish fact from fiction. It is perhaps on the viewer to remain aware that the film is, ultimately, a work of fiction.
The film, however, maintains narrative tension. Dhar relies on frequent twists to sustain interest, ensuring that the story remains engaging. The trajectory may be predictable, but the execution keeps the viewer invested.
The violence, more intense than in the first instalment, remains highly stylised. It is designed for visual impact rather than realism, contributing to the film’s spectacle while reinforcing a sense of detachment.
Even with a runtime approaching four hours, the film sustains momentum and is seldom boring.
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Chapter 4: The Sound of War
The film’s music continues to be a defining strength. Composer Shashwat Sachdev blends Indian classical, Sufi, qawwali, and folk elements with electronic music, rap, and techno, all while staying rooted in the demands of the script. The result is a soundscape that fuels the film’s high-octane moments with adrenaline, while also evoking a lingering sense of nostalgia.
The reuse and reinterpretation of older tracks is particularly effective, with lyrics and placement aligned to narrative moments. While the first film’s soundtrack had immediate recall value, the sequel’s music operates more as a slow burn.
Tracks like Mann Atkeya (Vaibhav Gupta, Shahzad Ali), Main Aur Tu (Jasmine Sandlas), and Phir Se (Arijit Singh) fall into this category. At the same time, the film delivers crowd-pleasing, foot-tapping numbers like Aari Aari by Bombay Rockers, reimagined for this outing, and Khaled’s Didi, both of which tap directly into millennial nostalgia.
Overall, the sound design and score contribute significantly to the film’s atmosphere and pacing.
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Chapter 5: The Men, the Masks, the World
The ensemble cast delivers consistently. Alongside Ranveer Singh, performances by Arjun Rampal, Rakesh Bedi, R. Madhavan and Sanjay Dutt reinforce the film’s dramatic weight. Sara Arjun, while effective in parts, is limited by a role that lacks sufficient development.
However, the sequel is largely driven by Ranveer Singh, whose dual portrayal of Hamza and Jaskirat forms its emotional core. There is a distinct emotional and physical shift between the two, and he navigates both with control and conviction. It is the kind of rare, layered role that not only anchors the film but also stands to become a defining addition to the actor’s filmography.
The effort put in by the costume design, hair and makeup, and prosthetics teams is also noteworthy. The production design, spanning different parts of India and beyond, plays a crucial role in building a believable and immersive world.
Dhurandhar is not a perfect film by any means, but it is technically accomplished and hard to fault when it comes to attention to detail.
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Chapter 6: Borrowed Guns
Dhar’s filmmaking reflects a blend of influences. The stylised violence and narrative rhythm show traces of Quentin Tarantino and Guy Ritchie, particularly in the staging of action and use of montage.
At the same time, the film’s rawness and treatment of violence recall the work of Ram Gopal Varma, particularly films like “Satya”, “Company” and “Shiva”.
While these influences are evident, the film attempts to integrate them within a commercial Hindi cinema framework, combining stylisation with music, star-driven performances, and large-scale storytelling
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Chapter 7: The Verdict
Dhurandhar: The Revenge is an ambitious sequel that prioritizes scale and spectacle over emotional depth. Aditya Dhar expands the narrative world with confidence, supported by strong technical execution and sustained narrative momentum.
Anchored by Ranveer Singh’s performance, the film remains engaging despite its structural excesses. While it does not fully match the emotional impact of its predecessor, it succeeds as a visually compelling continuation. With its blending of fact and fiction, whether it reads as propaganda or provocation is open to interpretation, but it remains a work of fiction, not reportage.
Rating: 3.5/5
Dhurandhar: The Revenge is playing in a theatre near you.
Read the review of Dhurandhar (part 1) here: https://whatsonsidsmind.com/2025/12/16/dhurandhar-review-a-taut-spy-thriller-that-delivers-on-craft/
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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).
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