By 
Pathaan (2023)
There is a storm coming. Fasten your seatbelt.
If Bollywood ever wanted to plant its flag on the tallest rooftop, light it on fire and dare the rest of the world to look away, then Siddharth Anand’s Pathaan is that neon-bright spectacle. Loud, wild, and unapologetically over the top, it’s the cinematic equivalent of ordering dessert before dinner and grinning while the chef sets the table aflame. For audiences hungry for a big-screen escape, this is the sort of pure popcorn blockbuster that reminds you cinema is still a playground.
The film is part of Yash Raj Films’ interconnected “YRF Spy Universe,” an ambitious crossover sandbox where espionage, patriotism, and absurdly inventive action set-pieces collide. With Pathaan, YRF hands the reins to Anand (best known for 2019’s slick War), who stages his movie like a series of crescendos — each sequence trying to out-muscle, out-explode, and out-wink the last. The Spy Universe itself is treated less like a careful narrative tapestry and more like an endless buffet of set-pieces. Continuity is a secondary concern; the primary goal is joy.
He’s not just saving India, he’s redefining casual Friday.
Of course, the bigger story here is Shah Rukh Khan. After a lengthy break from lead roles, the King of Bollywood returns not with a whisper, but with a thunderclap. His Pathaan is a square-jawed secret agent, carrying just enough world-weariness to sell the drama, and just enough sly charm to remind you why Khan has reigned for decades. There’s a meta-thrill in watching a real-life icon stage his own comeback — leaping across speeding trains in slow motion, launching himself from jets onto skyscrapers. It’s a reminder that he’s back, and still effortlessly commands the screen, even as CGI swirls around him like a hurricane. This isn’t just a comeback; it’s a coronation.
The story of Pathaan races across continents, with Shah Rukh Khan’s titular RAW agent pulled from exile to stop Jim (a no‑nonsense John Abraham) — a former RAW comrade turned mercenary who now heads a private terrorist organisation, Outfit X. Their mission: to unleash a mutated smallpox‑like bioweapon, Raktbeej, in retaliation for India’s abrogation of Article 370. Fueled by vengeance, cancer‑stricken Pakistani army officer General Qadir (Manish Wadhwa) bankrolls their plan. Pathaan’s only hope lies in a fraught alliance with ISI agent Rubina ‘Rubai’ Mohsin (Deepika Padukone), whose loyalties flip as adroitly as the film’s locations. Steering the covert operation from behind the scenes is Dimple Kapadia’s Nandini Grewal, RAW’s joint secretary and head of JOCR, who mobilises ex‑agents and anchors Pathaan’s mission with steady resolve. The story doesn’t so much twist as it gleefully somersaults, using betrayal and redemption as springboards for the next adrenaline rush.
International espionage, but make it a honeymoon photoshoot.
What adrenaline it is. Bollywood, for years accused of lagging behind Hollywood’s technical polish, Pathaan flips the script. Where Hollywood blockbusters often feel boxed in by muted spectacle, this one goes bigger, brasher, and gleefully absurd. We first meet Pathaan in Africa, capturing a henchman in a brutal fight in an arms market and bursting back into form with an explosive helicopter getaway that reminds us why SRK remains a force of nature. Later we’re hurled into a slick vault heist in Moscow, with Pathaan and Rubina breaking into a high-security facility in a sequence that crackles with chemistry as much as tension. But the film really up‑levels when it unleashes its iconic frozen‑lake motorcycle chase, filmed on the stunning — and treacherous — Lake Baikal in Siberia, marking a historic first for Indian cinema. And just when you think it can’t escalate further, Anand stages a flamboyant jetpack/mini‑jet mid‑air showdown: utterly improbable, but proudly excessive and perfectly in tune with the film’s spirit of “because we can.”
All of it works because Anand doesn’t try to ground the film in realism. Instead, he embraces cartoon logic, letting spectacle bend physics until you’re laughing and clapping in the same breath. That willingness to lean into absurdity is what makes Pathaan refreshing; it’s the kind of maximalism Hollywood once specialized in but now treats with hesitation. In an age of muted grey superhero climaxes, here comes a film where the sky itself seems to be exploding in Technicolor.
Side hustle: Terrorism. Main hustle: Modeling tactical gear.
Khan sells the absurdity with that twinkling charisma, but let’s not ignore Deepika Padukone. Smoldering doesn’t quite cover it. As Rubina, she’s both spy and siren, equally capable of firing a gatling gun and stealing the frame with a smirk. The camera adores her, and Anand knows it — giving her grand entrances, slow-motion walks, and a handful of close-ups that seem designed purely to make the audience gasp. She’s magnetic, and when she and Khan share the frame the film sizzles with a heat that makes you forget for a moment about the CGI mayhem around them. Smoking hot doesn’t even begin to cover her presence.
One of the film’s giddiest surprises is the cameo by Salman Khan’s Tiger, the swaggering hero from YRF’s Ek Tha Tiger (2012) and Tiger Zinda Hai (2017), who swoops in to rescue Pathaan from a Russian bind atop a speeding train. The banter between the two Khans is breezy, self-aware, and delightfully indulgent. It’s the cinematic equivalent of watching two sports legends share a victory lap. The sequence is an instant highlight, cementing the YRF Spy Universe as Bollywood’s answer to the MCU, albeit filtered through abs, melodrama, and unapologetic camp.
And then there are the songs. Because no matter how many missiles fly or cars flip, a Bollywood tentpole isn’t complete without musical spectacle. “Besharam Rang,” featuring Padukone and Khan in a sun-drenched Mediterranean setting, became a sensation before the film even opened. Onscreen, it’s a lush and unapologetically sexy interlude — part music video, part postcard. Later, “Jhoome Jo Pathaan” bursts forth in the closing, a celebratory anthem that feels like a fitting send-off, uniting leads and audience in a collective party. These sequences don’t halt the narrative so much as re-energize it, reminding you that this is Bollywood and rhythm is part of the storytelling DNA.
Of course, subtlety isn’t in the vocabulary here. At nearly three hours, Pathaan is indulgent, messy, and sometimes tips into outright absurdity. But those flaws are part of the charm. To complain that it’s too loud or too exaggerated would be to miss the point. By the time the credits roll, you feel like you’ve been on a roller coaster designed by a filmmaker who grew up on James Bond, Fast & Furious, and Mission: Impossible — and decided to smash them together with a Bollywood twist. The result is cacophonous but exhilarating. Anand and YRF aren’t trying to compete with Hollywood on its own turf; they’re redefining the battlefield, showing that maximalist spectacle — when executed with enough confidence and sheer showmanship — can feel brand new.
Pathaan isn’t the most coherent film you’ll see, but it might be one of the most fun. It’s the sort of movie where you lean back, surrender, and let the explosions, songs, and star power wash over you.
4 / 5 – Recommended
Reviewed by Dan Cachia (Mr. Movie)
Pathaan is released through Yash Raj Films
