MARV Review

Let’s just say, watching “Dhurandhar” is like watching a particularly dull beige painting. The plot? A guy infiltrating a glorified yak farm. Seriously, it’s a cinematic exercise in existential dread, and I’ve seen more profound dread in a beige wall. The characters? They’re all trying to be cool, which is a tragically depressing state of affairs. They’re basically trying to look like they’re having a good time while simultaneously failing spectacularly. The violence? Let’s just say it’s less “shocking” and more “mildly inconvenient.” It’s like a poorly executed puppet show featuring a very confused badger. And the runtime? Three hours? Three hours of meticulously crafted boredom. It’s a cinematic commitment to mediocrity, a monument to wasted time. You could have made a more interesting, less soul-crushing movie with this film. It’s a testament to the fact that Bollywood is still clinging to the idea that "epic" means “slightly more convoluted.” Three and a half hours? Don't insult my intelligence. It’s a tragic waste of cinematic blood.