3-hrs of April fool prank

3-hrs of April fool prank : My quick take on Murgadoss’s “Sikandar” (theatrical review)

मूर्गदास ने मुर्गा बना दिया भाई का, यार कुछ भी बना दिया!

Yes, I am guilty of watching Sikandar… थिएटर के अंदर… अप्रैल फूल के महीने में बन गए बंदर.

Looks like the Ghajini maker has become a Ghajini himself—completely forgetting he once had a magic touch. What we get instead is a steaming plate of cinematic chaos, garnished with clichés, boiled in Bhai-worship.

Some people make history. Some remake it. Murgadoss decided to fry it in old oil. Sikandar feels like that leftover rasam from the ’90s that was better off forgotten. In the name of making a ‘massey’ film, the makers assumed masses are asses—hence, kuch bhi chalega. Plot? What’s that? This isn’t a plot; it’s a collection of WhatsApp forwards stitched together by slo-mo punches and louder-than-life background score.

Bhai strolls through the movie like he’s just woken up from a protein nap, completely unaware he’s on a film set. His expression remains frozen in a state of mild confusion—perfect if you’re a wax statue, not so much if you’re leading a 300-crore action saga.

And then, the dialogues. Gems like “Vadam vadam pe likha hai khane wala ka naam” made me question if the script was sponsored by some food product company. It’s like someone took leftover shayari, dipped it in cringe sauce, and served it as punchlines.

As for the cast—this movie doubles up as Bhai’s personal Rojgar Hami Yojana. Every ex-colleague, gym bro, and family friend seems to have been handed a role. Even Kattappa, the pride of Baahubali, shows up just to be bounced around like a volleyball. He probably thought he was signing up for Baahubali 3 and ended up here.

The action sequences? Imagine a physics teacher watching them—weeping silently in a corner. Bhai blocks bullets using asbestos Patras like he’s renovating a roof mid-battle. There’s troop formations that would make the Gladiator cast retire out of embarrassment. One minute he’s barehandedly fighting 50 goons, next minute he’s launching motivational quotes mid-air. Newton rolled. Einstein sighed. Even Rajinikanth whispered, “Thoda zyada ho gaya.”

And let’s not forget Rashmika Mandanna, who appears in approximately 3.5 scenes. She enters, smiles, dances,says few emotional lines, and vanishes faster than logic in a Bhai film. Her role feels like a guest appearance at a wedding where no one told her the groom was missing.

Oh, the subplots. Medical science has been murdered, buried, and then danced upon. There’s an organ donation angle so absurd, I’m sure actual organ donors are now having second thoughts. My liver literally tried to escape my body midway through the film. Watching this movie is hazardous to internal organs.

In conclusion, Sikandar is not just a film—it’s a cinematic prank. A three-hour-long test of patience, logic, and retinal endurance. This Eid, Bhai has not served us biryani, but stale basi kheer, reheated with recycled swagger and garnished with misplaced confidence.

Avoid it. Unless your home AC is broken and the theatre has great cooling. Even then, carry a blindfold and headphones.