Ultimately, Aakhri Sawal serves as an accessible entry point for viewers less familiar with these debates and the 100-year journey of a major ideological force in modern India. Its ensemble cast, led by Dutt’s impactful turn and Chakraborty’s committed intensity, ensures it remains watchable. With tighter pacing, more restrained scoring, and less caricatured portrayals, it could have sparked richer post-screening conversations. As it stands, the film’s soul – the call for Samvaad amid Vivaad – shines through in flashes but gets somewhat lost in dramatic amplification. It is a film of earnest ambition that partially succeeds in illuminating hidden aspects of national discourse while revealing the challenges of balancing legacy, controversy, and cinematic engagement.
Directed by Anubhuti Kashyap and backed by Dharmatic Entertainments, Accused builds patiently and sets up its moral questions well, but its biggest weakness lies in the payoff. The second half promises a deeper psychological dive, yet resolves too abruptly, without the emotional or narrative impact the setup demands. It feels like a slow climb that forgets to deliver a satisfying descent. For viewers looking for a fresh take on workplace thrillers, Accused offers a new perspective, if not a new destination. It’s thoughtfully written, decently acted in parts, and rooted in relevant themes, but for seasoned thriller fans, it may feel like a familiar story told with slightly dulled edges. Not a misfire, but not quite the knockout it wants to be either.
What Bhabiji Ghar Par Hain! Fun on the Run does right is keep things simple. Expanding a sitcom into a feature film is tricky, but the makers manage to preserve the essence without overstretching the premise. That said, this is not a film that necessarily demands a big-screen experience. There is nothing particularly cinematic about it, and it would work just as comfortably on television. Still, as a breezy, no-pressure comedy meant purely for laughs, it does its job. If you are in the mood to switch off, recognise familiar faces and chuckle at familiar jokes, this film delivers exactly that — nothing more, nothing less.
So naturally, Bhooth Bangla should have been a scream (the good kind), but what you get is a film that tries very hard to be loud, spooky, and funny and ends up being none of the above. And the worst part? The disappointment kicks in early... and stays. The story unfolds in the fictional village of Mangalpur, beginning with a folklore-like narration about a cursed village plagued by the kidnapping of newlywed brides by a beast, reminiscent of the 1979 film, Jaani Dushman. Although initially intriguing, the storytelling quickly becomes overbearing. The narrative then shifts to London, where logic is set aside. Jisshu Sengupta, at 49, plays father to Akshay Kumar, aged 58, a casting choice that unintentionally elicits more amusement than the script itself.
The cinematography by Anend C. Chandran is absolutely brilliant in places, but becomes a major let-down during the climax. Editing by Praveen Prabhakar deserves appreciation for keeping the narrative crisp. The music – featuring songs by Shankar Ehsaan Loy and a background score by Mujeeb Majeed – is effective, though nothing particularly stands out. Visually, however, the film is striking, and the art and set design departments deserve clear credit for achieving a strong aesthetic. Overall, Chatha Pacha: The Ring of Rowdies arrived with a lot of anticipation but struggles to match up to it. The promotional material largely highlighted the film’s fun, pro-wrestling-centric elements, and the makers would have benefited from leaning more into that strength. In attempting to add drama, the film ends up in an in-between space – neither wholly entertaining nor effectively dramatic – ultimately resembling a child stuck between two boats, barely holding on.
While Chiraiya is powerful in intent, it does feel stretched. What could have been a tighter, more gripping narrative ends up looping in parts, revisiting the same emotional beats. While this may reflect the slow, exhausting reality of such struggles, cinematically, it dilutes the impact and could have benefited from sharper editing. Performance-wise, the cast largely delivers. Divya Dutta stands out as Kamlesh, portraying the journey of a woman conditioned by years of internalised patriarchy who slowly begins to unlearn and evolve. Her arc is subtle but powerful. Prasanna brings a raw vulnerability to Pooja, making you feel every bit of her trauma as you see her spirit gradually dimming under the weight of her circumstances.
The music is quite forgettable, though visually, the film is pleasing to look at. The hills of Shimla bring softness and serenity to the otherwise chaotic family drama. Overall, Daadi Ki Shaadi has a few genuinely funny moments and heartfelt emotions, but it ultimately becomes a drag because it cannot decide what it truly wants to say. In trying to become a social commentary on modern families, the film overloads itself with messaging, and somewhere in all that noise, its emotional core gets lost.
However, the screenplay does lose its grip in places, and the film begins to feel stretched. Conflicts arise but are resolved almost too conveniently, denying the audience a deeper emotional pay-off. Just when you expect the narrative to dig further, it retreats into safety. Further, the excessive advertisements at the beginning disrupt immersion, and noticeable censorship cuts slightly affect the flow. Performance-wise, Siddhant Chaturvedi and Mrunal Thakur carry the film with sincerity. Siddhant captures Shashank’s internalised insecurity with subtle restraint, while Mrunal brings quiet fragility to Roshni. Their chemistry feels organic. Their silences speak louder than their dialogues. They make you root for these characters even when the writing falters.
That said, Drishyam 3 is not a bad film. It goes for the low-hanging fruit and relies on one certainty: Mohanlal's Georgekutty will always be one step ahead of the cops. And Mohanlal's brilliant performance, despite the script's shortcomings, keeps us glued to the screen for two hours and 39 minutes. His wife, played by Meena, and daughters, played by Ansiba Hassan and Esther Anil, get roles that require them to simply agree with what Georgekutty says. Esther Anil has several dialogues that bring in some welcome comic relief.
The film, directed by Rajat Kapoor, has a strong premise with the ingredients of a classic whodunnit: a closed setting, complex character dynamics, and a murder disrupting a celebratory evening. Yet, the execution does not fully live up to this potential. The problem is the film seems more interested in the cracks than the murder itself. That's not entirely a bad thing. The best parts of the film are the quieter, messier moments, the awkward party chatter, the passive-aggressive digs, a game of Dumb Charades that somehow carries more tension than the actual investigation. Kapoor understands how people behave around each other when they'd rather not be in the same room, and that instinct works in the film’s favour in patches.
And that’s the thing, Ginny Wedss Sunny 2 has a lot to say, but it just doesn’t know what to do with it. It keeps adding one plot point after another, without any of them making sense. It also wraps everything in a very familiar Bollywood template: two strangers meet, get married, and are then expected to fall in love. The setup is cliched, the dialogues even more so, and the emotional stakes barely register. You don’t quite see when they fall in love, or why, which makes it hard to care whether they stay together. And that's quite blasphemous for a romantic film. Eventually, the film piles on its regressive tropes, all played for light laughs, hoping humour will smooth over the discomfort... but it doesn’t.
