Dhurandhar Review: A Well-Researched Spectacle Undermined By Anti-Muslim Undertones
Dhurandhar arrives with enormous ambition, 214 minutes of espionage, geopolitics, ethnic rivalries in Pakistan, covert RAW operations, and a star-studded cast led by Ranveer Singh and Akshaye Khanna.
It is visually grand, structurally dense, and undoubtedly the result of massive research by Aditya Dhar and his writing team.
But the film’s craft and world-building constantly clash with its political messaging, which leans worryingly into the same formula that Bollywood continues to repeat: Islamic terror = Muslim identity, ISI = Pakistan = villainy.
Even though the backdrop is based on Lyari’s real ethnic complexities, the film often slips into broad generalisations that feel more ideological than artistic.
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This is ultimately why Dhurandhar, despite its brilliance in parts, struggles to rise above propaganda.
The film opens with a powerful sequence set around the Kandahar hijacking, immediately placing India’s intelligence failures at the centre. Devavrat Kapoor and Ajay Sanyal’s heated debate about infiltrating Pakistani networks sets the tone.
By the time Hamza Ali Mazari (Ranveer Singh) reaches Lyari, Karachi, via Afghanistan, the narrative is already loaded. The first hour is strong, especially Hamza’s integration into Mohammed Aalam’s life and the chaotic world of Lyari’s Baloch, Pathan, Muhajir and Sindhi gangs.
The early sequences, Naieem’s death, Babu Dakait’s ambush at the wedding, and Hamza rescuing Faizal, are shot with gripping intensity. The cinematography by Armo makes Karachi feel claustrophobic and alive, even though most of it was recreated in Thailand and Ludhiana.
But after the midpoint, the film becomes too big for itself. Too many subplots, too many leaps, and too much violence stretch the screenplay beyond necessity. The runtime becomes a burden.
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Aditya Dhar tries hard to paint Pakistan as a fractured, ethnically diverse nation—Punjabis dominating power, Baloch marginalisation, Pathan vs Baloch rivalry, Muhajir politics through MQM, the shadow of Zia’s Islamisation. These are all researched very well.
But despite this depth, the film cannot escape its “India good, Pakistan evil” template. Every few scenes reinstate the same narrative: Pakistan’s politics is an ISI conspiracy. Karachi is terrorism, Islam is used as glue for terror, and every gang, group, or political force eventually connects to anti-India activities.
The problem is not showing terrorism, but generalising religious identity as a shorthand for threat.
This is where the film enters Islamophobia territory through constant association: beards, prayers, mosques, religious vocabulary, clothes, all shown in moments tied to violence or conspiracy.
Whether intended or not, the messaging reinforces stereotypes Bollywood keeps repeating.
And yes, when the only “good Muslim” in the film is the one secretly revealed to be a Sikh agent from India, the symbolism becomes impossible to ignore.
For a film that claims nuance, it slips into generalisation far too often.
Akshaye Khanna and Ranveer Singh deliver the strongest performances in the film, easily becoming its biggest highlights. Akshaye brings a calm intensity and razor-sharp presence to every scene he appears in, making even the quiet moments feel powerful. Ranveer Singh, on the other hand, adds energy, charm, and emotional depth, lifting the film whenever he is on screen.
Their contrasting styles balance the narrative beautifully, creating a dynamic that keeps the audience engaged. Together, they elevate the movie beyond its limitations, making their performances the most memorable part of the entire experience.
The movie also features several good songs that have become popular on music charts and social media, adding moments of energy and mass appeal.
The cinematography and visuals are strong throughout, with striking action set-pieces, detailed production design, and well-captured scenes that reflect the film’s scale and ambition.
It is clear that Dhurandhar was built on extensive research, and the ethnic dynamics of Karachi, the historical context of Lyari, and the inner workings of intelligence operations all appear to be thoughtfully studied and woven into the story.
However, despite this research and its technical strengths, the film ultimately falls into a problematic pattern by repeatedly equating Pakistan — and by extension its people — with terrorism.
This broad and sensational narrative choice reduces complex realities to harmful stereotypes. Rather than offering a nuanced look at geopolitics and society, the film leans on fear and generalisation, which weakens its message and warrants strong criticism.
