DHURANDHAR 2025
by
Aditya Dhar
Akshaye Khanna is the rage of the hour for his flamboyant turn as Rahman Dakait. Sanjay Dutt has shown glimpses of his old self in Musafir and Zinda. Arjun Rampal is venomous as cyanide as an ISI Major. Madhavan lends Doval-like authenticity to Sir Ajit’s role. Rakesh Bedi manages to draw guffaws throughout the blood-infested runtime. Shashwat Sachdev’s soundtrack and film score elevates the film to an interplanetary level. Vikash Nowlakha’s cinematography has garnered wide praise. Karachi has come alive in the film’s nooks and crannies, streets and markets. Even those who “do not subscribe to the politics of the film” have doffed their caps in honour of the director and writer, Aditya Dhar. And lastly, Aditya himself has thanked Yami Gautam Dhar for being the woman behind his stupendous success.
Amid all this mutual admiration, backslapping, flow of tributes and hullabaloo, two key personnel- the editor of the film, and its leading man have passed by virtually unnoticed, and therein lies their triumph. At 3h 34m, Dhurandhar beats Mughal-e-Azam’s length by 17 minutes, and Animal’s by 13. It goes to the film’s editor, Shivkumar V. Panicker’s credit that Part One gets wrapped in lesser time than JP Dutta’s LOC (4h15m) and Raj Kapoor’s Mera Naam Joker (4h4m). Truly speaking, a lot of credit goes to the editor for not clipping the building-up passages and not editing out post-violence orgasmic release of its perpetrators. Total runtime be damned, violence emanates out of gradual build-up, runs its whole course and leaves its after-effects. That is the real magic of Dhurandhar- it draws you into Lyari and makes you wanna drink that monstrosity called soda-milk. You are not just a part of the audience, you belong to Team India or Team Dakait, as per your taste and loyalty.
A big salute is due towards Mister Ranveer Singh. Baji Rao Ballad had the license to go full hog. His turn as a crazy, dopey Alauddin Khilji had failed to convince me. But in Dhurandhar, Ranveer has quietly annihilated his exuberant persona into the service of the film’s cause. In a way, there is no Dhurandhar without Ranveer Singh. He is Dhurandhar himself- the embedded spy, India’s revenge and the veritable film itself. Yet he plays not a show stealer, rather football-like playmaker. Akshaye and Sanju had the luxury of mouthing powerful dialogues, given their stellar roles. As a Sindhi politician, Rakesh Bedi, enjoyed the license to play a buffoon and crack poor jokes. But Ranveer Singh closeted his verve and resisted the temptation to play to the gallery. Robert De Niro did that in The Mission and Once Upon a Time in America. He chose to mingle with the furniture and the rest of the gang in Heat to push up the film. Akshaye’s lip-twitches and half-smiles are merely De Niro’s mannerisms; the ‘method’ has effectively been applied by Ranveer.
Restraint is not the natural instinct of a superstar, and especially not when he is surrounded by a constellation of such powerful performers. Underplaying himself is a conscious risk that a secure actor takes to lift a scene. Silence is a weapon he wields to convey through his mere presence. Make no mistake, Ranveer Singh is present throughout the film’s length, yet never once comes out of the embedded spy’s skin to remind the audience that he is there. Predictably, the impressionable minds have not gone gaga over Ranveer’s act. They value charisma over craft, gestures over substance, words over silence. That said, this spy is not hungry for cheers, rather for revenge, which he shall exact from the enemies of his country.
Since the film does not document India’s undercover ops, and is only ‘based upon true events’, I’d not get into the truth of the matter, or the implausibility of certain scenes and events. For heaven’s sake, Dhurandhar is not a biography of Rahman Dakait or Nabeel Gabol or Khanani Brothers, rather a fictionalized version of the spy games. It manages to irk the Assholes’ Association because it develops the cult of Doval, does not separate terror from religiosity, questions ‘soft responses’ before 2014, and hints at top-level involvement in fake currency racket. As a work of fiction, Dhurandhar is immensely enjoyable because it is completely unapologetic in what and how it wants to show and tell. One dialogue clearly states the film’s message-
“Agar Badshah inteqam na le, to poori quam ki beizzati hoti hai.”
India was humiliated when forced to give in to the demands of Kandahar hijackers. Operation Parakram was not a worthy response to 13/12/2001 Parliament Attacks, rather an exercise in fooling the public. We sat on our haunches after 26/11/2008. Printing dossiers and making appeals to your sworn enemy to rein in his monsters do not (cannot) earn respect. Dhurandhar alters that grammar of diffidence; it talks about giving back in a larger measure whatever you receive, exposes the visceral hatred that Pakistanis feel towards India, and does not blunt the sharpness of violence or remove the tinge of religiosity that laces their weapons. Above all, it does not degenerate into ‘artsplaining’, that is it does not talk down to the audience to explain the proceedings, rather assumes that the viewers are perceptive enough to gather the nuances and decide for themselves. There is no place for platitudes like ‘terror has no religion’ and ‘the Pakistani awaam loves India’ or for fanciful jumlas like ‘non-state actors’. Why would the aman ki asha brigade not hate Dhurandhar? That is perhaps the film’s greatest endorsement.
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