The much-anticipated, or perhaps dreaded, sequel, *Son of Sardaar 2*, has landed with a resounding thud, failing to recapture the boisterous energy of its predecessor. While sequels often struggle to live up to the original, the consensus among critics suggests this latest offering falls significantly short, burdened by tired humor, a flimsy plot, and a general lack of inspiration. The saving grace, it seems, lies in the performances of a few supporting actors, offering fleeting moments of vibrancy in an otherwise dreary cinematic landscape.
One of the most consistent criticisms revolves around the film’s humor. Many reviewers have pointed out that the jokes feel dated, relying heavily on predictable India-Pakistan banter and tired slapstick routines. The one-liners, often intended as comedic zingers, frequently miss their mark, leaving audiences with an uncomfortable silence instead of laughter. Even the pairing of Ajay Devgn and Mrunal Thakur, intended to provide romantic spark, is described as awkward and unconvincing, further diminishing the film’s comedic potential. The reliance on illogical gags, while a staple of many Bollywood comedies, simply doesn’t land effectively here, contributing to a sense of forced and manufactured humor.
However, amidst the general criticism, there are glimmers of hope. Ravi Kishan and Deepak Dobriyal have been singled out for their energetic and engaging performances. Their contributions are seen as providing much-needed life to an otherwise forgettable ensemble cast. The second half of the film, particularly the climax, is also mentioned as a slight improvement over the first, with a few more laughs sprinkled throughout. Whether this late surge is enough to salvage the film is debatable, but it suggests that some effort was made to address the initial shortcomings.
Technically, *Son of Sardaar 2* also fails to impress. The music and cinematography are described as average at best, with some critics even deeming them gaudy. The scenic Scottish settings, which could have added visual appeal, are reportedly underutilized, representing a missed opportunity to elevate the film’s aesthetic quality. This lack of attention to detail further contributes to the overall sense of mediocrity that permeates the production.
Ultimately, *Son of Sardaar 2* appears to be a sequel that no one really asked for. Critics largely agree that the film lacks freshness and a clear reason for its existence. While a small minority of viewers might find it to be a harmless family entertainer, the overwhelming consensus suggests that it’s a tedious and uninspired comedy that fails to capture the spirit of the original. Viewers hoping for the chaotic fun of *Son of Sardaar* are likely to be deeply disappointed. The film serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of pursuing sequels without a compelling story or a fresh comedic vision. It highlights the importance of originality and innovation in a genre that often relies on familiar tropes and recycled jokes. A few standout performances from the supporting cast cannot compensate for the film’s fundamental flaws in storytelling, humor, and technical execution, resulting in a largely forgettable cinematic experience.
In conclusion, *Son of Sardaar 2* is a disappointing sequel that fails to live up to the expectations set by its predecessor. Its reliance on tired humor, a convoluted plot, and uninspired technical execution results in a largely forgettable cinematic experience, despite the best efforts of a few supporting actors.
Inside Bollywood’s Silence: The Real Reason Dhurandhar Isn’t Being Celebrated
In a season where Bollywood films are loudly pushed, praised, and plastered across every digital corner, the curious silence surrounding Dhurandhar has raised more questions than answers. Social media has been buzzing with talk of nepotism, PR politics, and manipulated corporate bookings. But industry insiders tell a very different story—one that has less to do with individuals, and everything to do with genre power, studio territory, and the fragile ego structure of Bollywood’s biggest players.
At the heart of the storm lies a simple fact: Dhurandhar is a spy thriller. Not just any thriller—the genre Bollywood unofficially considers the exclusive territory of Yash Raj Films. For over a decade, YRF has aggressively built its “Spy Universe,” treating it like a cinematic fortress. The studio’s identity, revenue expectations, and long-term franchise planning are deeply tied to the success of this genre. So when War 2—their highly anticipated blockbuster—released earlier this year and struggled at the box office, it didn’t just bruise egos; it shook the foundation of the Spy Universe itself.
Against this backdrop, the arrival of Dhurandhar became a complication no one at YRF wanted. Insiders insist the silence around it isn’t about actor rivalries or PR games. It’s far more strategic. Publicly celebrating another studio’s spy thriller—especially one gaining genuine praise—would inevitably weaken the narrative YRF is trying to rebuild with its upcoming film Alpha. Acknowledging Dhurandhar would mean accepting a new, strong competitor in the very space YRF claims as its own.
There’s also the added complexity of personalities. Industry veterans quietly acknowledge the friction between “Gangu” and certain YRF loyalists. Some believe that any hype around Dhurandhar will reflect indirectly on Ranveer Singh, an actor who has been caught in the crosshairs of shifting alliances and subtle jabs from prominent names. Even recent comments by Filmfare’s Jitesh Pillai, insiders say, were not random—they were part of the larger mood within the establishment.
What is particularly telling is that this silence cannot be explained by corporate bookings or inflated footfall numbers. Brahmāstra pioneered and benefitted from such tactics, yet it received full-throated celebration from every camp. The absence of similar support for Dhurandhar points clearly to the genre politics at play.
Behind-the-scenes tea also hints at larger ripples: whispers of Deepika Padukone stepping away from an Ayan Mukerji–Ranbir Kapoor project have surfaced, possibly tied to the tense undercurrents created by this power struggle. Whether these developments are temporary or signal a deeper fissure will become clearer in the coming months.
For now, what remains undeniable is the industry’s discomfort. Dhurandhar is being quietly acknowledged as a good film—good enough to challenge the supremacy of the Spy Universe itself. And in a world where brand territories matter more than merit, silence has become a weapon.
As Bollywood inches toward the release of Alpha, expect the temperature to rise, alliances to shift, and narratives to be aggressively shaped. Because in this battle, it isn’t actors fighting for acclaim—it’s studios fighting for genre dominance.
In the whirlwind world of fame, where the lights shine brightest, the departure of a star can leave a profound silence in its wake. It’s a reminder of the fleeting nature of celebrity and the indelible marks some leave on the fabric of our culture. Recently, the entertainment sphere was shaken by the tragic news of Shefali Jariwala’s untimely passing—a talent whose spark dimmed too soon. Amidst the bustling digital landscape where trends come and go, certain stories, like Shefali’s, grip us, urging a search for meaning amidst loss.
Shefali, fondly remembered as the “Kanta Laga Girl,” left a void not just among her close-knit circle but within the broader audience base that adored her. Her untimely demise at the age of 42 not only sparked an outcry of grief but a surge of online searches, seeking to understand the how and why. She had been a vibrant presence on screen, and her sudden departure led to a significant spike in Google searches, overtaking even major events. The cause, reportedly a consequence of a cardiac arrest, raised discussions on the pressures and the unseen struggles behind the glamorous facades of celebrity life.
In another corner of the digital universe, Anupam Kher experienced an unexpected jolt—not of loss, but of digital disappearance. Imagine waking up one day to find a whopping nine lakh followers vanished from your social media profile. In a world where online presence and follower count are often seen as measures of influence and credibility, such an occurrence is disconcerting. Kher’s direct query to Elon Musk brought light to the often invisible cleanup processes on social media platforms, aiming to purge bots and inactive accounts. Yet, it serves as a metaphor for the impermanence in the digital age—what is here today can be gone tomorrow, echoing the transient nature of fame itself.
As we navigate through a torrent of updates, from the surprising revelations post-Samantha Ruth Prabhu’s wedding to the heartwarming support for TV’s Sai Baba, Sudhir Dalvi, by the Shirdi Sansthan, it’s evident how stories of celebrities’ lives, their highs and lows, fascinate and unite us in conversation and speculation.
In the midst of these narratives, a peculiar phenomenon caught my attention—the barometer of public interest as reflected in Google’s most searched movies of 2025. From Bollywood outpacing Southern cinema to unexpected hits that captured the public’s imagination, it’s a fascinating glimpse into collective tastes and the ever-shifting sands of viewer preference.
But perhaps, the most human aspect amidst these tales is the community’s response to Sudhir Dalvi’s plight. Facing health challenges, the actor renowned for his portrayal of Sai Baba found relief not just in medical intervention but in the collective support of a community willing to uphold one of its beloved figures. It’s moments like these that reinforce the ties that bind us, transcending the screen to touch lives in tangible ways.
