Sikandar Movie Review — Sucharita Tyagi
Listen. First LINE mein I’m telling you there will be a spoiler right away. It's impossible to talk about this deeply unserious film without discussing this one plot point.
I mean, it's nearly impossible to talk about this film, period. But I’m gonna have to try.
Before we start, keep in mind it cost producers that’s includes Nadiadwala Grandson Entertainment, 200 crores to make this film, one of the most expensive Hindi films ever made. Just keep that in mind.
Mr Khan is Sanjay Rajkot, also called Raja Sahab, also Sikander, reasons he explains to his wife one night like they’ve just met. Anyway, he is the last living prince of the Rajkot dynasty. A Gujarati rich man, he is married to Saisri, his much younger wife. The role, played by Rashmika Mandana is yet another iteration of the kind of submissive, pati hi parmeshwar hai roles the actor is often cast in.
Rajkot is benevolent and gives freely, but the largesse also has limits because he still lives in a stupidly extravagant palace where his wife dresses like the concierge at a 5-star Taj hotel. Raja Sahab also needs to have 5 bodyguards at all times, who sleep in silk pajamas co-ord sets. And a Sharman Joshi man Friday hovering for exposition. Sanjay’s marriage to Saisri also it seems was carried for charitable reasons, that’s how much of a monk who likes to hold on to his Ferrari this man is.
The film doesn’t quite ALLOW you dwell on the situation much longer, because in one of its dumber sub-plots, Saisri, well, dies. There’s your spoiler.
I understand at this point it seems like I’m narrating the plot of the film, but this whole shebang is SO bonkers, I possibly CANNOT continue without drawing an outline for context.
Quickly now — so Saisri is an organ donor — her heart, lungs, and eyes are donated to people who all happen to be in Mumbai. Sanjay GOES to Mumbai to meet each of these to feel like wife is still zinda somehow. But alas because he had taken one panga with one minister ka beta on one flight one time, misfortune now follows wherever Sanjay goes, three organ receivers ki lives are upended.
Committed action films without complex or extensive stories are completely acceptable forms of entertainment, as long as the craft is enjoyable to witness, and leaves you with something to think about. Sikandar however is stubbornly harebrained from the first scene to the last, with action, comedy, romance, song, and dance, all included. Not one scene poor Prateik Babbar is in, adds to anything more than making him look like an complete dolt, Kajal Aggarwal silently stands around looking either impressed or just pretty, Sathyaraj delivers each word of dialogue as though he is punishing each vowel by physically chewing it before it escapes his lips and Jatin Sarna bravely tries to add life to the most listless scenes written this side of Kisi Ka Bhai Kisi Ki Jaan. All while Salman Khan shows up mostly in mid-shots looking pained and hurt by how evil the world is. Why can’t we all just get along? A little more attempt has gone toward half-heartedly dubbing lines like “Vadam vadam par likha hai khaane waale ka naam. Kadam kadam par likha hai aage badhne waale ka naam” in a Mumbai recording studio and kaching!! Millions of dollars are earned by one of India’s highest-earning individuals. Salman Khan’s ambivalence towards the craft of acting has never been more glaring tbh.
The result of all this is a lot more thuss than the Molotov cocktails Prateik Babbar casually has sitting around in his car in one chase sequence.
No one expects a Salman Khan starrer to offer commentary on the socio-political implications of monarchy in modern India, if indeed there are any expectations at all. But with each such film, with each display of how abjectly stupid the Hindi cinema audience is assumed to be, the hope that huge mainstream Hindi cinema has ANYTHING fresh left to offer is diminishing. The dissonance is astounding, especially now, when nothing really seems to be working, critically or commercially, and half-assed attempts are routinely being called out as such. According to reports this film finished shooting on March 15, and here we are now March 30th reviewing the final product. Or what has been deemed good enough for us to consume and consummately celebrate.
Sikandar is desperate to tell you the story of a “big-hearted king”. After the Ambani wedding, I have realized no outlandish display of wealth is outlandish enough. It might be tacky, but rich people clearly are doing things like hiring drones to spell out love messages on random nights. Sikandar does that too, but he also, without provocation, starts singing “ajeeb dastan hai yeh”, sadly and unironically as a doctor hands him papers detailing his deceased wife’s organ donation plans. And this isn’t even the weirdest moment in the film.
It’s cute to witness writer-director AR Murugadoss’s hopes that there still is a world out there where people come together en masse in each other’s sorrows and happiness. That the public CAN be mobilized successfully against the tyranny of the police. Rich people WILL find their life’s true purpose if only they realize how families in Dharavi live. Guts chahiye to be singularly focused on telling the little story you want to, without giving a damn about authenticity, milieu, and atmosphere. But here is a filmmaker who remade Memento, unofficially, TWICE, without telling Christopher Nolan. Toh means, guts toh hain.
To be fair, though, let me backtrack. For the portions that are set in Mumbai, the city is shown to be pretty much a wasteland, which, if you’ve been to the city recently, looks accurate if nothing else. The air is bad, the poor get no medical attention, rich builders are stealing land from the disenfranchised, and politicians and police cannot be trusted to uphold the law. But unlike Atlee’s loud and only slightly less garish Jawan, another film that used a massive movie star to make social points, Sikandar doesn’t really give a shit about the issues it raises. They are only in the film to give its massive movie star something to solve and to fix for his loyal subjects, an act of charity that he partakes in to convince us of his bleeding heart and generosity.
As I noticed the screen warp in some frames around Salman Khan’s frame and wondered whether CGI was used to artificially slim the actor, I realized Sikandar would be a great example for a thesis on the ongoing failure of Hindi cinema, a perfect reflection of Bollywood’s eluctance to trust its audience’s intelligence, as actors like Rashmika Mandanna undo the work done by female actors who refused to simply play the pretty little girl. Cannes film festival jaane ke liye sponsor nahi mil raha hai mujhey, joh film jaa bhi rahi hain for instance Santosh, ALSO about Indian policing, we are being told we aren’t allowed to actually watch. While in the same city, someone has an inordinate amount of money to set fire to. We are living in a dystopia, are we not?
So on a scale of 1 to 10, Sikandar is….3 type of people the trailer says the film is for — families, lovers and heroes. In reality it’s for people whose bar for entertainment is very VERY low. If that’s you, the film is now in theatres.
Up next, we’ll talk about L2: Empuraan also shortly, maybe on a livestream. I urge you to go watch the film before the censor board butchers it beyond recognition. Please go watch, phir karenge discuss.
