The Indian Express

by Shubhra Gupta

They’re both big draws in the Middle-East, Salman being the bigger one, but their parts are nothing but glorified cameos.

Despite having many elements and an ambitious plot, Aadu 3 ends up being an absolute letdown. Although crafted by Midhun Manuel Thomas himself, the creator of the franchise, the movie comes across as an amateurish fan-fiction, with the soul of the original completely missing. One of the major attractions of the first instalment was how unhinged the characters were. They could and would say anything, anywhere. They had zero filters and were too naive to understand the importance of thinking before speaking. Just as important was Pappan’s equation with each member of his gang. Unfortunately, those elements are totally missing in Aadu 3. Although Arakkal Abu (Saiju Kurup), Captain Cleetus (Dharmajan Bolgatty), Sasi Aashan (Indrans), and Sarbath Shameer (Vijay Babu), among others, are present in this instalment too, they seem to have lost their voice and soul.

by Shubhra Gupta

But the writing offers us little depth, and that’s where this film, which had the potential to be a humdinger, falls flat. There’s so little passion between Sensharma and Rannta that you wonder what made them get together in the first place; what little we see is so chaste as to be non-existent. It takes an argument for both to break out; the supporting characters come off even worse, and the background music never quite stops tinkling away. Finally, it all comes down to that thing which is increasingly, and disappointingly, becoming a streaming bugbear: the idea is bravely out-of-the-box ; the underlined writing does it in.

by Swaroop Kodur

Directed by Maari, Anaganaga Oka Raju is a film that breathes easy because of its male protagonist. The world created is generic not only in terms of its template look and feel but also because of the stock characters that inhabit it. Yet, the focus is cast entirely on Naveen Polishetty, who takes centre stage with great confidence and struts about with his now well-known comic timing and self-effacing warmth. The story might be predictable all along, but his one-liners come at a breakneck speed, and the gags remain at the optimum level of silly and harmless.

by Anandu Suresh

Because of its desperate attempts to appear vibrant and cool, Athiradi compromises on the basics: emotions. While Arun and Paulson could have completely avoided it and made the movie a battle of male egos, the writers have also tried to anchor the narrative emotionally to give it more gravity. However, these moments and plot devices — even Sam’s brother’s recorded speech, which is actually pivotal to the narrative — fail to generate the desired impact and end up feeling quite dull. Even the conflict-building is unimpressive, preventing the rising stakes from truly resonating with the viewer. While the point of no return and the interval block are presented grandly, the build-up to them is shallow, thereby detracting from their overall impact. The lack of depth in the characters, including Sam and Kuttan, worsens the situation, particularly since they display excessive theatrics without meaningful justification for their behaviour. Worse still, the jokes just don’t land at all.

by Shubhra Gupta

The message is loud and clear: no religion is evil, only humans are; nafrat can be conquered through pyaar, siyasat se mazhab ko na milao; and above all, maanvata se bada koi dharam nahin. But they come as a listicle, instead of making you feel.

However, the brilliance of director Girish AD and co-writer Kiran Josey — joining forces after Premalu(2024) — is that we never feel any creepiness in the movie. In fact, the maturity and clarity with which the subject has been handled is what, in my opinion, makes this romantic comedy absolutely heartwarming, endearing, and sweet.

by Swaroop Kodur

At the same time, the film starts to come undone in the second half when it suddenly runs out of ideas. A couple of twists and crop-ups lead the narrative to a juncture where Kishore Tirumala is asked to put his best foot forward, but his writing comes up short in terms of a response, resorting to winding monologues and justifications that make little to no sense. Why does Manasa opt to do whatever she does after learning Sathya’s truth? Why does he get away so easily? What use was the brother character (Tarak Ponnappa, a Kannadiga who emphasises Telugu cinema’s increasing love for the neighbouring state)? Bhartha Mahasayulaku Wignyapthi shows no interest in tying up these loose ends and instead prefers to conclude things on a bland, unimaginative note.

by Shubhra Gupta

And I’m relieved to report that Border 2 holds on to the soul and spirit of the original, while giving us a much bigger canvas, showing conflict not just on land and air, but also water. It also brings back the biggest star of the original in Sunny Deol, introduced here as the ‘son of Dharmendra’ in the credits: he is far and away the biggest star of this one, towering over the rest of the ensemble, which includes Varun Dhawan, Diljit Dosanjh, Ahan Shetty (whose father Suniel had a major role in the original), and others. In the recreation of their domestic spheres, I’d say this one goes one better in giving us details of their home lives — the villages where the jawaans leave their families, waiting in dread and fear, holding on to hope that their men will return.

by Yashaswini Sri

Ashwin Chandrasekar's latest offers genuine moments and strong performances but suffers from familiar plot and jarring tonal shifts.

by Shubhra Gupta

The execution is — there’s no other way to put itn — a drag. The reason, as always, is in the weak writing, and flat TV sitcom treatment, in which scenes are created with everyone lined up in the frame, waiting their turn to speak, before exiting: case in point, where the younger generation, Zs and Alphas, show their greedy, selfish millennial parents the error of their ways, and claim that Daadi, and her home, under attack by her own offspring, is where their hearts lie. It begins well enough, even if the likeable Kapil Sharma looks much too old to be a potential life-partner of Khateeb’s character: hard to swallow that they were in college together, and are circling back to each other nearly a decade later; easier to believe that she isn’t too happy with the match, having set her eyes on a career and a life abroad.

Arun Matheswaran's DC sits in this scale of grey and refuses to leave. It is a film about vigilantism, about a found family, about two people who have been failed by every institution that was supposed to protect them and have decided that the only protection left is violence.

by Shubhra Gupta

Finally, it is Ranveer Singh who keeps us looking, all through the plodding first half, and in the slightly-more speeded up post-interval section, with his light-eyed gaze turning steely and soft by turns, keeping the flag waving. The pain of Jaskirat — his backstory is tightly told — is transmuted into the fire that keeps Hamza burning, and Ranveer makes a handy meal of both sides of the coin, luxe locks firmly in place. I have to say that torture doesn’t suit him; Vicky Kaushal did a better job of being strung up and savaged in Chhava. But an unexpectedly moving coda makes up the finale, leaving the door open for more adventures.

by Shubhra Gupta

But the rest of it is a drag. Good actors are arrayed across dining tables and ghar ka aangans delivering the usual dialogue about shaadi, ladka, ladki, sambandh: imagine a fine ensemble — which includes Joy Sengupta, Ayesha Raza Mishra, Mona Ambegaonkar and Ila Arun– getting stuck in a rut like this.

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