Sikandar

A. R. Murugadoss' screenplay fails to do justice to this superb plot. Except for a few well-etched scenes, the rest of the script is full of loopholes and cinematic liberties. A R Murugadoss' dialogues (additional dialogues by Rajat Aroraa, Abbas Dalal, Hussain Dalal) are substandard. A film like this needed to have many more hard-hitting and seeti-maar dialogues. A R Murugadoss' direction is shockingly disappointing, given his great body of work. He has tried his best to pepper the narrative with loads of crowd-pleasing action and dramatic scenes. There's also an unexpected moment in the first 45 minutes which will astonish moviegoers. Also, what works the best is Salman Khan’s entry scene. It is terrific, and it's not there just for the heck of it; it’s also a part of the story. But after a great start, the film goes downhill.

Sikandar is yet another case of a mass film failing to fulfill its purpose. While the action is the highlight, it still lacks the impact to keep you hooked. The storyline carries potential for emotions but it doesn't work due to half-hearted approach. The dialogues bore you rather then entertaining because the dialogue delivery of actors is as ordinary as writing. Nobody seems interested enough in making a good entertainer.

With Salman Khan on screen and a monstrous budget at hand, one would expect at least a compelling story, strong character arcs, and exciting showdowns from a director who made Ghajini. But nothing—and I repeat, nothing—in Sikandar makes sense, even remotely. It feels like the actors arrived on set, took a walk, and left. How else do you justify Salman Khan reading lines instead of acting? The lack of a story only highlights weak performances. But it is not just the actors at fault. The director, the producer, and everyone involved in approving this cut are equally responsible.

In ‘Sikandar’, both the director and the star flounder spectacularly, failing to give us anything we haven’t seen before. The opening sequence starts with faint promise, with Bhai coming on and schooling an entitled minister ka beta (Prateik Babbar) in the first class cabin of an airplane. After that it’s all downhill: you are hard put to see any freshness in the lazy, formulaic writing which pits the Raja of Rajkot against arrogant neta (Sathyaraj), complicit cop (Kishore), and their goons, when he is sharing some softer moments with faithful wife (Rashmika Mandanna). At this rate at which she is repeating herself as the sweet, submissive wife who will do anything for her lord and master, Rashmika herself is in danger of becoming a trope: here her character has been given a line about the age difference between her and Sikandar, but the gap of 30 years plus-minus is glaring, and just adds to the number of things that shouldn’t have been in the movie.

Salman looks better in Sikandar than in his last few films. His emotional scenes, especially with the children and the climax, work in lifting a dull script. Despite the cliches and run-of-the-mill treatment in several scenes, his charisma and stardom sail through even the most banal and dull writing. Rashmika’s character feels underutilised, and she doesn’t really get a big monologue or a stand-out scene that works in her favour.