Jewel Thief: The Real Crime is Watching It!!

Jewel Thief: The Real Crime is Watching It - My Quick take on movie (Netflix)

Once upon a time, Jewel Thief meant Dev Anand—hat tilted, eyes twinkling, charm pouring out like Scotch in a 60s bar. The suspense hugged you tighter than your boss during appraisal season, and the music? Yeh Dil Na Hota Bechara still echoes in retro nights, cab radios, and the hearts of humans who know melody from mayhem.

Cut to 2025—and Netflix coughs up Jewel Thief: The Heist Begins—a cinematic shell so drained, so utterly soulless, it retains only the bechara. Which, ironically, is us. The viewers. Clutching remotes, dreams, and mild indigestion.

Apparently, OTT algorithms saw I survived Chhorii 2 and Khauf and decided, “This guy clearly likes horror. Let’s give him some Horrible stuff now. So I hit play. Then pause. Then deep contemplation. I finished the film in seven business days and three emotional breakdowns. Even insurance claims settle faster.

Enter Saif Ali Khan as Rehan Roy, a thief so tentative, he looks like he accidentally wandered onto set while looking for the washroom. His mission? To steal diamonds and clear his father’s name—a plot so ancient and overused, it should be displayed in a museum next to dial-up internet.

Saif spends most scenes looking like a man trying to remember if he left the geyser on.

Jaideep Ahlawat—bless his brooding brilliance—shows up like that one topper in a failing group project. He carries scenes on his back like Atlas with a migraine. You can almost hear him whisper mid-shot: “Kya zarurat thi yeh sab karne ki?”

Nikita Dutta, dressed to kill, oscillates between “Instagram model caught off guard” and “Google Assistant with connectivity issues.” Glamorous, yes. Impactful? Like a perfume ad on mute. Are ha! There is also Kunal Kapoor, playing the Tom in this Tom n Jerry plot.

Maker Siddharth Anand, known for confusing aesthetics with emotion, presents this heist. And the background score? Imagine Mission Impossible covered by a college band on a caffeine crash, playing through a Bluetooth speaker submerged in dal.

The climax teases a rollercoaster. What we get is a hand-pulled rickshaw stuck behind a buffalo with no plans to move. The twist arrives so slowly, you could meditate, manifest your goals, and still see it coming.

In the end, Jewel Thief: The Heist Begins isn’t just a bad film—it’s a masterclass in how to rob your audience blind. Of time, of nostalgia, of faith in titles with “Heist” in them. If there’s a sequel—Jewel Thief 2: The Scam Resumes—please send thoughts, prayers, and better scripts.

Watch it only for Jaideep Ahlawat, who gives his all while the screenplay sends out its resignation letter midway.

Final Verdict: The only thing stolen here? Two hours, a childhood memory, and our collective will to binge.