As the cinematic tides turn this Eid season, the absence of a Salman Khan headliner leaves room for a new blockbuster to captivate audiences—and “Bade Miyan Chote Miyan” (BMCM) rises to the occasion. Directed by Ali Abbas Zafar, the film revs up the festivities with a volley of action, camaraderie, and a hint of philosophical musing, crafting a symphony where style and substance are the leading instruments.
A film unmistakably tailored for the masses, “Bade Miyan Chote Miyan” doesn’t shy away from its larger-than-life persona, embodying the very essence of a mass entertainer with a heart that beats joyously under its high-tech exoskeleton. Sidestepping the typical narrative paths, the movie draws from the Bollywood archives, refurbishing the friend-turned-foe storyline with a modern twist that intersects with the poignant reality of Artificial Intelligence.
Fading into the background are the defense uniforms, which former comrades-in-arms Firoz, aka Freddy (Akshay Kumar), and Rakesh, known as Rocky (Tiger Shroff), have been mandated to shed. However, a resurgence of the past arises when Kabir (Prithviraj Sukumaran), once presumed dead, returns with vengeance on his agenda, compelling the protagonists to battle against a new age of clones.
Indeed, BMCM embarks on a path well-trodden, yet it does so with charm in its first act and compelling gravity thereafter. Provocatively commenting on the misplaced pursuit of perfection through machines or indoctrinated agents within various faiths, the film navigates the delicate dialectic between technology and the fading human touch. Zafar, spurning the typical India-Pakistan cinematic rivalry, brings China into the fray, illustrating how ego, grudge, and self-interest can morph men into monsters.
Accompanied by Julius Paickam’s pulsating score, the film opens with a showcase of the visual feats achievable by DNEG’s vfx wizards. Although the blend of digital and practical elements isn’t always seamless, the narrative cleverly ties its homage to the 1998 original, restoring the comedic essence once delivered by legends Amitabh Bachchan, Govinda, and Satish Kaushik.
Akshay Kumar, the original gangster (OG) of humor, presents his comedic chops with practiced ease, while Tiger Shroff bridges his physical prowess with burgeoning acting chops, even daring to parody himself. The script, laden with meme-able moments, does not economize on sharp wit, with jabs at nepotism and the unsavory stereotyping of actors providing a deft touch to the narrative.
Yet, “Bade Miyan Chote Miyan” isn’t without its caveats. Emotional moments and action sequences alike are amplified to the point of bombast, and Zafar occasionally takes his time building to climactic events. But just as the audience might flirt with the presumption of predictability, the film deftly introduces a narrative twist that re-engages attention.
Prithviraj Sukumaran’s portrayal of the antagonist, Kabir, emerges from behind a mask with operatic flair. Though his intonation could use finessing, the portrayal of a scientist scorned by society’s rejection for fear of misuse harbors the narrative’s emotional fulcrum.
Women characters, played by Manushi Chhillar and Alaya F, provide an infusion of sensual charisma and spirited banter, eschewing the trope of mere aesthetic adornment. Sonakshi Sinha, however, in a brief appearance, struggles to add substantial weight to her role.
Ultimately, BMCM celebrates the notion, as voiced within the movie, that intention eclipses talent. Amidst the feats of dashing heroes and digital spectacles, lies a film that speaks to the everyday valiance of conscience over ability. One note for Akshay, as the film cheekily suggests, might be to embrace a more authentic portrayal, perhaps starting with cultivating a real moustache for his fictitious escapades.
The movie runs in theatres, standing as a testament to the enduring allure of Indian cinema, which continues to proliferate and evolve, delighting viewers across Hindi-speaking regions and beyond.
