Sikandar: All Muscle, No Heart
In Sikandar, director A.R. Murugadoss seems determined to outdo himself—but not in the way audiences might hope. What should have been a triumphant return to big-screen bravado becomes a bloated spectacle that confuses volume with value. Fronted by Bollywood’s eternal alpha Salman Khan, this film promises grandeur, justice, and drama—yet delivers little more than a loud, overcooked action reel that collapses under the weight of its own ambition.
The Emperor’s New Script
From the outset, Sikandar is convinced of its own epicness. Salman Khan plays Sanjay “Sikandar” Rajkot, the self-styled “last Maharaja”—a royal protector turned vigilante messiah. It’s a role drenched in mythology, ripe for depth and introspection. But instead of peeling back the layers, the film plasters on more: more subplots, more slow-mo walks, more stunts. What emerges is less a man and more a meme—an indestructible figure solving every crisis with his fists, but offering little by way of soul.
Murugadoss, who once gave us the tightly wound emotional thriller Ghajini, now seems to be juggling narratives like flaming swords—with none landing safely. The film tries to be a revenge saga, a love story, a political thriller, and a social message movie all at once. But without a strong spine, all these arms flail in different directions.
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A Love Story That Doesn’t Live
Rashmika Mandanna’s Saisri is the queen to Salman’s king, but their romance feels as perfunctory as a checkbox ticked. There’s no build-up, no emotional crescendo—just a brief montage of sweet nothings before tragedy strikes and she’s fridged to serve Sanjay’s transformation. It’s a dated trope, and it’s handled with such haste that her death, intended as the film’s emotional anchor, doesn’t even ripple.
Chaos in the Court
Following the queen’s untimely exit, Sikandar splinters into several side quests. Sanjay takes on a slum kid’s future, a startup founder’s injustice, and a woman’s personal trauma—all while battling environmental corruption, medical malpractices, and political tyranny. These subplots scream for meaning, but the writing doesn’t stop long enough to let them breathe. Each storyline is rushed, as if ticking off a list of social issues for maximum applause.
What’s meant to elevate Sanjay as a savior ends up undermining the narrative—it’s hard to care about anything when everything is happening at once.
Villains in Name Only
Sathyaraj’s Minister Pradhan is introduced with menace but devolves into a cartoonishly evil figure, delivering threats without teeth. His son, played by Prateik Babbar, fares even worse—reduced to being the next goon in line for a gravity-defying beating. The film insists on a moral battle between good and evil, but fails to provide a credible foe. Without a strong antagonist, even the most climactic confrontations lack tension.
Flash Over Feel
Visually, Sikandar delivers. The action is stylish, with real-world locations like Mumbai, Hyderabad, and Dubai giving the film a polished, global sheen. The fight choreography is slick, and yes—Salman still knows how to fill a frame with presence. But when action scenes are the only reliable high points, and even they feel like déjà vu from earlier Khan blockbusters, it becomes hard to care who punches whom and why.
Even the climax, built up as a final ideological clash, fizzles out into a predictable showdown with no real stakes.
Big Sound, Bigger Silence
Backed by a bombastic, percussion-heavy soundtrack, the film never lets you forget it’s important. But beneath the pounding score and slow-motion glances lies a deafening silence—of ideas, of character arcs, of narrative conviction.
There’s no emotional grounding, no complexity. Just noise. And sometimes, noise is just that.
Verdict: The Crown Slips
Sikandar wants to be everything: majestic, moving, message-driven, and massy. But in trying to please everyone, it ends up satisfying no one. It’s a movie made with muscle—but missing the most vital organ: the heart.
Salman Khan’s fans may still flock to the theaters, cheering his every punch. But even they might find themselves wishing for more—more story, more nuance, more reason to care.
As Sanjay says in the film, “Insaaf nahi, saaf karna hai.”
Unfortunately, what Sikandar really needs is a good cleanup of its own narrative mess.
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Final Rating: (2/5)
- Flashy action & high production value
- Bloated plot with weak emotional core
- Tired tropes, thin villains, shallow characters
Might entertain if expectations are very low
