The Roshans Documentary Review — Sucharita Tyagi
Personal, political, controversial, true crime, give me all the documentaries, any time of day, anywhere in the world!
Especially when it's about Hindi cinema’ history, which unfortunately is VERY poorly documented. I am so seated.
Now if YOU don’t bring the goods, that’s on you.
Roshan family has been active in Hindi film industry for multiple generations — there’s music, there’s acting, there’s direction, spanning over 60 years, so obviously, there is a story waiting to be told. Dynasty ki shuruat, from Roshan Nagrath (the patriarch and music composer) to Rakesh Roshan (the director-actor), Rajesh Roshan (music composer) and ultimately Hrithik Roshan (who awakened something in my generation when we were teens). The family’s accomplishments are SIGNIFICANT, to put it mildly.
The show opens on a nostalgic note, you see Hrithik Roshan listening to a recently re-discovered old composition of his grandfather. You're eavesdropping on a personal moment, that ends with him saying “There is a very interesting story, how our family name went from Nagrath to Roshan”. Yeh moment show ke trailer mein bhi hai.
Except, you don’t really get that story? If someone did share, I entirely missed it.
The Roshans quickly then starts to present cameo after cameo. Veteran Film critic and filmmaker Khalid Mohammed appears offering general comments about how talented this family is, but you don't hear him talk about writing and directing Fiza, much before Kaho Na Pyaar Hai was even a thing. Bhansali offers no deeper insights into Guzarish, Karan Johar doesn’t go into the making of K3G. You hear co-stars like Priyanka Chopra Jonas, Ameesha Patel and Preity Zinta talk about how fun it is to work with the Roshans, and how everybody, including Madhuri Dixit knew he was born to be a star, but none of it is admiration sentiment one hasn’t heard before. Countless times.
The montage of collages feels more like a feel-good, happy birthday to you home video, rather than commentary worthy of a Netflix documentary.
It's frustrating because the series starts on a rather promising note– the making of a young man from Gujranwala, who learned sarod in Lucknow from Baba Alauddin Khan and moved to Mumbai to be a music composer without any idea how to do it. The story of Roshan Lal Nagrath’s rise to prominence, and the community that enabled people like him — a mixture of Punjabi and Muslim backgrounds — makes one realize how many early founders of the Hindi film industry came from humble means, forging legacies in the face of economic hardships and complexities of religious identity. Rafi, Roshan, Lata, Prakash, Kapoor, Chopra, Sultanpuri.
Toh Episode 1 is the gold that Bollywood history buffs crave, but the docuseries gives it only a mild exploration. There are some oddly “cheesy” dramatic re-creations, that don’t re-appear in the rest of the series.
The intrigue does continue to simmer when you get to learn more about Rajesh Roshan and his work. Honestly, it kind of blows my mind to think the same composer who made folx in drag dance to “Saj Rahi Gali Meri Aaj”, made Rekha run around in glee singing “Pardesiya yeh sach hai piya”, won a Filmfare for “Julie”, ALSO evolved rapidly to create “Ae Mere Dil Tu Gaaye Jaa” for his nephew’s grand launch. So many iconic songs came from this unassuming man who is seldom celebrated the way he deserves.
Also who knew his wife was such a stunner. Kanchan Roshan appears beech mein, talking about their lives behind the scenes. Then the focus shifts, right as it begins to get interesting and you hear from her how difficult it probably was to be married into this family. This is a recurring issue with the series: produced by the Roshans themselves, the final edit allows little intrigue, conflict, critique or new dramatic tension.
Half way through, you realise The Roshans is content to remain a polite, celebratory portrait. I was seeking the emotional or intellectual cost of sustaining a multi-generational dynasty. Alas, there’s not much to be found.
For instance, episodes 3, and 4 reference a dramatic event in Rakesh Roshan’s life: his being shot at. For those in the know, the attempted assassination in 2000 was a major news story — he was reportedly targeted by the Mumbai underworld. Yet The Roshans mention it only glancingly, never explaining how that incident shaped him or impacted the family. Also Who shot at him? Why?
This feels like it should be a pivotal moment in the docuseries, a lens into the underbelly of the Hindi film industry and the Roshan family’s resilience, and how the Hindi film industry transitioned out of this phase where multiple actors spoke about being targetted. Instead the documentary prioritizes safe retrospectives over insight. For a film that claims to be an inside look at a legendary film family, the absence of elaboration or newness, leaves a glaring hole where narrative drama could be. You miss a film historian’s occasional parallel commentary on how camp evolved as a genre in cinema, in huge parts thanks to filmmakers like Rakesh Roshan.
The series obviously talks about Hrithik Roshan’s meteoric rise. But oddly the Hrithik episode is more about his father than him. It never fully commits to unveiling the complexities behind Hrithik’s stardom: his struggles with health issues, intense training, these are already well documented stories. For many years this family was connected via marriage with a whole other film dynasty, the Khan’s, which isn’t mentioned.
Old episodes of Rendevouz with Simi Garewal have more to offer.
As this final segment wraps up and you see Hrithik’s young sons playing “Wonderwall,” it's a sentimental nod to the music that fuels this household. It’s a sweet touch, but like the song they’re playing, the effect is way too familiar.
Ultimately The Roshans is an extended tribute, breezing past any weighty. A film dynasty deserves a more daring and revealing narrative. Until such a doc presents itself, you can watch this one, on Netflix.
So, on a scale of 1 to 10, The Roshans is…..1 story might stay with you ki SRK and Salman were kind of douchebags on the sets of Karan Arjun, which kind of checks out.
