Dhurandhar - The Revenge
Hindi - Spy /Action/ Thriller229 minsIn Cinemas
Viewer Discretion Advised - Extreme Violence
The below article, as always, is spoiler-free.
Prologue
I remember watching Dhurandhar (D1) on the third day, evening show. The show was not quite full, the movie’s promos hadn’t set anything on fire, but the audience showed appreciation, word of mouth spread quickly, and it became of those rare films that had higher collections in Week 2 and 3!.
I remember watching Dhurandhar (D1) on the third day, evening show. The show was not quite full, the movie’s promos hadn’t set anything on fire, but the audience showed appreciation, word of mouth spread quickly, and it became of those rare films that had higher collections in Week 2 and 3!.
For all filmmakers who lament that audiences no longer come to theatres, consider this: in Bangalore, on 21 March 2026, there were roughly 820 shows of Dhurandhar – The Revenge (D2), most of them sold out, I attended a 7:30 AM show—the earliest I have ever been at the movies, which was house full. For a nearly 4 hour long, A-rated film, that is extraordinary patronage.
In an era of shrinking attention spans, to bring audiences into theatres for nearly 7.5 hours of a fairly violent, espionage saga across two films is no small achievement. It is a testament to the extraordinary cinematic achievement for Aditya Dhar and his technical team.
They deserve every bit of the acclaim that has come their way, for crafting a film that will not only be remembered as a commercial success but also as a defining moment in contemporary Hindi cinema and surely a highlight in the careers of everyone involved.
Not many films command attention. Fewer still sustain it. Dhurandhar has now done both - Salute!
The review
The movie ominously opens with the first chapter “A Burnt Memory”. A seemingly gentle recollection quickly transitions into a stunningly choreographed action sequence, set to the resounding “Aari Aari” (“My father raised me a winner, I will kill for my people—that does not make me a sinner”).
Jaskirat wipes out the male members of a family in brutal retribution for what they did to his own. He is later saved from the gallows by Bansal and his superior, Ajay Sanyal. When asked how he managed to do what he did, a remorseless Jaskirat responds with a chilling clarity—revenge is never easy; it is courage that fuels it, and not every man possesses that courage.
“Haunsla. Eendhan. Badla.”
Cut to the present. Hamza narrates this memory to Aalam at Washma Butt’s tea stall. In this quiet moment, one that pays off much later—Aalam tells Hamza that he will share his own story when his heart is full. That moment of reckoning arrives in a tense and pivotal sequence later in the film.
With Rehman Dakait Baloch now gone, Hamza continues his meticulously planned ascent to the throne of Lyari. His alliance with SP Aslam and Jamali strengthens. Uzair Baloch is firmly under his control, reduced to little more than a pawn. He has earned enough of Major Iqbal’s trust, to be introduced to the elusive “Bade Saab.”
Bade Saab is orchestrating a massive operation - flooding India with counterfeit currency and facilitating massive insurgent movements. Hamza must now engage with Punjabi drug kingpins, a path that unexpectedly reconnects him with someone from his past. This leads to a gripping and brilliantly cut interval which is one of the most unexpected high points of the film.
Hamza escapes this confrontation, but not without paying a heavy personal price. Yalina —now a mother to their son, discovers his true identity. While inevitable, this reveal feels somewhat convenient in its execution; one cannot help but wish it had unfolded with greater nuance.
From here, Hamza receives the green signal from Sanyal and Bansal to complete his mission. One by one, he begins eliminating the names written down in his little brown book. His actions eventually draw the attention of Omar, Aslam’s trusted aide, who pieces things together and informs Major Iqbal—setting the stage for a violent and inevitable climax.
The third quarter of D2 is clearly designed as a crowd-pleasing stretch, briefly pushing the film into jingoistic territory. As I had noted in D1, there is enough strength in the material to hold without this.
There is also a segment exploring Major Iqbal’s unresolved issues with his father, Brigadier Jahangir Khan—a wheelchair-bound, expletive-spewing presence. While it is evident that Aditya Dhar intends to use this dynamic to shape Iqbal’s motivations, and Suvinder Vicky delivers a terrific performance, the entire portion feels somewhat excisable.
As stated earlier, while Yalina’s discovery of Hamza’s identity is underwhelming in its execution, the film compensates with a beautifully staged moment. The sequence set to “Aakhri Ishq” (Jubin Nautiyal) as Hamza finally reveals his real name, is lovely.
All the “Peak Detailing Paglu” (PDP) theories circulating online—that Iqbal was always aware of Hamza’s true identity—are effectively dispelled. That said, it does raise a small question: how does Iqbal remain oblivious when even Omar begin to sense something amiss?
These, however, are minor quibbles, as the film regains complete control in its final act. Everything falls into place in the last quarter, culminating in a violent climax followed by a series of twists that resolve the narrative in a satisfying manner.
The Music
On the technical front, the film operates at a consistently high level, but once again the music by Shashwat Sachdev emerges as its emotional core. Among the originals, the haunting “Phir Se” stands out—set in Raag Darbari is a standout.
When Arijit Singh goes “Tanhayi Mein Jisne Mujhko, Jee Bhar ke Tadpaya Tha, Aur Nahin tha koi, Woh Teri Yaadon ka Saaya tha” and Ranveer’s eyes playout the symphony, your heart melts. The Veena interlude is an ear worm.
For me, some of the reimagined tracks do not land as seamlessly as they did in D1. That said, audiences who grew up in the 80s may enjoy the updated “Sher-e-Baloch” (now Khaled’s “Didi”), even if the visual edit feels retrofitted to the song rather than organically conceived (and credit to Akshaye Khanna for making it his own)
For all the PDPs (wink), two standout pieces—“Mann Atkeya” and “Jaan Se Guzarte Hain”—are powerful reinterpretations of compositions associated with Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. Dhar and Sachdev’s use of music to elevate key sequences remains one of the defining strengths of their collaboration.
The film is noticeably more violent than D1. However, the action is staged with precision and visceral impact. There is an underlying logic to the brutality—these are satan’s minions and they operate in a fractured world.
The Performances
Ranveer Singh dominates the screen, appearing in almost every sequence and carrying the film with remarkable conviction. His portrayal of rage during the revenge arcs is riveting. At the same time, one wishes there was slightly more of Jaskirat, the glimpses we get reveal an emotional range that deepens the character significantly. When he breaks down, i felt the lump in my throat. This feels like a well-earned payoff for the years he has invested in this role.
Madhavan, with limited dialogue, makes a strong impact, and his eventual payback sequence against Zahoor Mistry is likely to draw applause in theatres. Manav Gohil as Bansal gets a lot more to do and plays his part well.
Arjun Rampal’s Iqbal is present throughout, but his true menace surfaces only toward the end, where he is particularly effective. One cannot help but feel that a more extended cat-and-mouse dynamic between Hamza and Iqbal would have added another layer—something many would have expected from this sequel.
Rakesh Bedi and Gaurav Gera get more substantial moments and leave a lasting impression, while Sara Arjun does well in the limited scenes she is given.
Epilogue
As a filmmaker, Dhar has now firmly established himself as both an accomplished writer and a meticulous craftsman of narrative detail and screenplay. The hope, going forward, is that he resists the temptation to remain in his comfort zone and instead explores newer subjects and worlds.
Dhurandhar was apparently conceived as a long-form series spanning seven or eight parts on Netflix. While that format might have offered Aditya Dhar greater narrative sprawl, budgetary scale and global reach, we should all be glad it did not happen.
In choosing the theatrical route, Dhar has not only delivered one of the most ambitious cinematic projects in recent times, but has also reminded audiences—and perhaps the industry—that scale and storytelling can still command people to return to theatres in large numbers.
Because if Dhurandhar has shown us anything, Nazar and Sabar will be rewarded with Badla!
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