DHURANDAR — My Review

Ambitious in scale, ferocious in spirit, Dhurandar blends geopolitics, gangster lore, and emotional grit into one relentless cinematic punch.

Of a run time of 3 hours and 35 minutes, Dhurandar is ambitiously long.

I climbed into bed at 3 in the morning after catching it on a night show. I struggled to sleep, thinking about the sensory indulgence that it was;I even heard the cockerel crowing before sleep finally took hold of me — the bullets still ricocheting in some far-off corner of my brain.

Straight off, if I can point to one singular flaw that jumps out at me — it’s the running time.A sharper edit would have kept it taut and given it the edgy heft I was hoping for.

This film, based on true-life incidents, explores the murky, shadowy relationship between the political establishment, the military, and the underworld gangs of Pakistan.

Visceral, bombastic, and set in the wild, wild west of Pakistan, it makes for a jousty ride — sharp around the corners, smooth on the straight lines.

The love angle between Ranveer Singh and newbie — the very pretty Sara Arjun — a little world in the making, though integral to the plot, with its own love songs and cutesy banter, slackens the narrative just a touch and feels a little awkward to watch.

The movie is divided into nine chapters — and while I personally found the format interesting, there’s a lot of chatter online about it.Some complained, some celebrated it.

The movie begins with a solitary aircraft entombed in eerie, penal silence.

Deceptively muted — and then all hell breaks loose.What follows is a high-voltage, all-guns-blazing espionage thriller, high on adrenaline, chutzpah, and doused with a liberal sprinkling of stylised nationalism.

This is Ranveer’s moment of glory — his claim to a place under the sun.

I am fangirling over his acting and his rugged good looks — the long hair, the piercing eyes, his frame filling up the screen, giving him the larger-than-life image the story needed.

He is molten lava when compelled to be restrained and a full-blown volcano when he unleashes his fury.He is Hamza — an ex-con turned spy.

Headlined by him and more than ably assisted by some of India’s finest actors, the performances are a synergy of craft, fleshed-out character arcs, and charisma.

Akshaye Khanna’s performance leaves you speechless — you’re unable to separate the character from the actor.He merges so completely with the role that Rehman Dakait, the single most dreaded gangster of Layri, feels unnervingly real.

The real-life references to bureaucrats, ministers, and government officials — both Indian and Pakistani — are hard to miss.

Much credit should be given to the creation of the world of Layri, where Glocks and Kalashnikovs spit fire and set the streets ablaze, and where salwar-kameez–clad gangs run amok, preying on men for lust, for power, and for survival.Some scenes are a tough watch.

Rakesh Bedi as the corrupt Pakistani minister is a revelation — he slips into his role like a chameleon.

Arjun Rampal, as the gold-toothed ISI chief, is cold, menacing, and leaves an impact, whereas Sanjay Dutt — the trigger-happy super cop of Layri — is saddled up for a testosterone-fuelled ride.

And how can I forget Madhavan? His portrayal of Ajit Doval, India’s National Security Advisor, is a combination of intelligence, patience, exasperation, and a calm resilience in dealing with the most trying of circumstances.

The background music feels like an added character to the ensemble cast — pulsating, electrifying, building to a crescendo and then dissipating, only to rise again like a wave.

Whether sung by the hugely popular Hanumankind, rendered in the soothing voice of Sonu Nigam, or presented as a mashup of songs from the past or borrowing folk strains from the high regions of Balochistan, this is an eclectic mix poured into a simmering cauldron of blood, gore, geopolitical tension, redemption, and love.

And before I sign off, there is this scene where one of the crime lords is being driven around town, with a poster of a very young and handsome Imran Khan on the side. I smiled at the delicious irony of it all — the contrast between the average man on the streets of Layri and the Western-educated, tousle-haired, English-speaking, blue-eyed boy of cricket. The bourgeoisie versus the hoi polloi in one accidental frame.

A very clever way of working the sets to match both the mood of the time and the tone of the film.

The second instalment of the movie releases sometime in March next year, and truth be told, I can’t wait for it to hit the theatres.

If there is one Indian movie in recent times that has left an imprint on my psyche, it is Dhurandar — unapologetically Indian, fiercely assertive, and unafraid to wear its patriotism on its sleeve.

Go watch it for Ranveer Singh’s transformation — from ghayal to ghatak, feral and riveting — and for an absolutely GOATED ensemble cast that fires on all cylinders.

Watch it for the madness, the fury, the passion that explodes on screen.

It will be worth every minute of your time.

P.S.: There is gratuitous violence in the movie — torture scenes that will leave you feeling squeamish. So, my word of advice: if you are faint of heart, you may want to give this one a skip.

Signing off.

Molecularly Yours,

Sanjana

Curiously Irrepressible

Original Dreamer. Accidental Chemist. Green Molecule — Clean Confidently.

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