If you are wondering where filmmaker Ashwiny Iyer Tiwari has been all this while, we have got the answer: she is developing multiple scripts across languages, genres, and platforms. The acclaimed helmer, whose last directorial was the 2022 

starring Saiyami Kher and Pavail Gulati, is now readying a new slate of diverse stories.

has learnt that Ashwiny, who had consciously taken a "step back" in the last two years owing to personal reasons, is now back on set with her new project, reported to be a 

. She is also simultaneously working on other ideas.

Lights, Camera, Scoop: Ashwiny Iyer Tiwari Readies Slate Comprising Tamil Film, Action-Drama, and Rom-Com

This year marks the birth centenary of Ritwik Ghatak, the Bengali filmmaker whose explorations of Partition trauma, social realities and working-class struggle established him as one of Indian cinema’s great auteurs.

Best known for works such as his trilogy on the Partition — 

(1965) — he influenced everyone from Satyajit Ray to Mani Kaul. To celebrate his centenary, Westland Publications has released 

, edited by sports journalist Shamya Dasgupta, bringing together artistes, academics, actors and journalists writing about their encounters with the director. These 50 essays celebrate Ghatak through reflections and expressions of love.

The following essay — written by Ghatak

in 1968 — outlines his vision for a film about Vietnam that would be shot entirely in Calcutta (now Kolkata), connecting the American War in Southeast Asia to the struggles of Bengal’s impoverished. The film was never made, but the essay remains a document of revolutionary imagination.

The idea of making a film about Vietnam is a particularly difficult — and intensely sacred — one for any film director today. Tossing off a casual remark on the subject without going deep into the matter, or before examining the complete information on Vietnam, is either insanity or travesty. It is this travesty that I have to commit now.

My knowledge of Vietnam runs only as far as newspapers, some photographs and analyses of the news in a few magazines go. Leave alone Vietnam, I haven’t ever been anywhere in Southeast Asia. So, when it comes to the source of Vietnam’s abundant spirit of life, I can only discuss it at my desk, I cannot capture its pulse. Still, somewhere, somehow, I have been given an indication that this is an event that will change the pages of history. In some way, it seems to me, Vietnam will profoundly change something for the world.

One more thing. To make a film, I have to be confined to Calcutta or to Bengal. Not only do I not think of this as a problem, but, on the contrary, it also signals the shining possibility of being a primary condition for creative art.

From the perspective of what little I have perceived of Vietnam, the battle there is also our battle. The same struggle is being waged here. Vietnam is the symbol of resistance against all kinds of oppression in today’s world. Actually, terming it a symbol would be wrong; it is the most extended form of this resistance. The suffering and tears in our own country are extensions of the Vietnam War. American imperialists have not understood this, which is why Vietnam has stunned them. Or, one might say, turned them into mad dogs.

I’m told that some film-makers in a country across the seas are planning films on Vietnam, and some have even made them. I’m not talking here about documentary journalists, who have presented with great power the visible war in Vietnam. I’m referring to those in a distant country, who are trying to participate in Vietnam on the strength of their brains alone. In my opinion, they are bound to fail. I have had the fortune of watching a film on Hiroshima made by someone from this class of directors. This is the film that has led me to such a conclusion.

I recall something else as well. A renowned French director has expressed a desire to make a film on Vietnam. Several years ago, he had been given a proposal to make a film on Napoleon’s life. Not the Napoleon of the battlefield, he had said then, nor the wars themselves—what had appeared more meaningful and artistically inspiring to him was the couch on which Napoleon had sex with women. He would begin his film with this couch. I tremble at the very thought of what might ensue if Vietnam were to fall into the hands of such people.

For, given its involvement with many other things, Vietnam has also turned into something else that’s lethal — fashionable. So-called intellectuals have begun to jump up and down about Vietnam. They will never be able to grasp Vietnam’s tears of blood, and its resolve tempered in fire. Because, just like the American imperialists, they can never place their fingers on Vietnam’s pulse. Like ikebana or terracotta horses, their study of Vietnam allows them to remain ‘ultra-modern’. Even amidst all of this, they might manifest the terrifying tendency of being caught up in so-called human relations. May god bless them.

Now let me consider how I would move forward with my own film. These are, of course, entirely disorganised thoughts.

A mother, with her sick child beside her. A voice outside. The mother pours out some hooch from a pot in the corner and takes it out.

Outside, smoke rises from a freshly lit clay oven. The mother offers the bowl of hooch to a man.

A police whistle drowns the cries of the child. Several people run up and surround them.

Police whistles … the child’s crying …

An American bomber plane. Split into two halves mid-air. About to plunge to the ground. (Seen in a still image, of course, for I always want to present the real war in Vietnam through stills. I will modulate these to the rhythms of living, moving images of the country.)

With this beginning, I want to show the helpless crimes of the impoverished in our country, which we normally avoid when we give the fighting spirit of the common people a stylish appearance for public presentation. I will reveal the entire picture of reality—the causal relationships between these so-called crimes, which are the lowest expression of the harsh realities of our fighting masses. The images of Vietnam will accompany them as explanation.

Then I will move to another episode, where I will depict the dreams of the downtrodden as just that — dreams. These segments will be based entirely on music and partly on dance. I will make no reference to reality here. As punctuation, there will be a succession of images of the brave girls and boys of Vietnam and of Algeria’s National Liberation Front. As though they are determined to ensure that these dreams materialise. I will end this episode with a scene of musical joy and exuberance, with thousands of tender young children dancing. Their dancing and freedom fighters leaping over trenches will be choreographed to the same rhythm.

Now to the final episode. Here I will emphasise the presentation of the people as fighters. There will be full-throated recitations of Ho Chi Minh’s poetry in translation, and scenes of the buoyant accomplishments of the combating and toiling masses will flow past our eyes. This ebullience is the elation of fulfilling the dreams presented in the previous episode.

Here I will try to capture that very pulse of life, which is a mystery to oppressors. The same survival spirit that sends roots into the earth and absorbs nutrition from it, the same survival spirit that is born in hard steel and the sweat of the body, the same survival spirit that exists in the depths of meditation — where there is profound peace — I will try to give it shape in the film.

I do not know if I will succeed, but I will try.

A young man who has been shot. Maybe a student, maybe a peasant. His agonised but elated screams will be borne to us, and he will collapse. Even in the face of death, he will clutch the earth with both his hands. My camera will go beyond his hands to his clotted blood — which the earth sucks in.

Another Vietnam is being born there. A Vietnam that is immortal.

This essay was originally published in Anandabazar Patrika in 1968.

Translated by Arunava Sinha; Introduction text by Prathyush Parasuraman.

Arunava Sinha translates classic, modern and contemporary fiction, non-fiction and poetry from Bengali and Hindi into English, and fiction and poetry from English and Hindi into Bengali. Over ninety-five of his translations have been published globally so far. He teaches at Ashoka University, where he is also the co-director of the Ashoka Centre for Translation, and is the books editor at

To read more exclusive stories from The Hollywood Reporter India's December 2025 print issue, pick up a copy of the magazine from your nearest book store or newspaper stand.

'Unmechanical: Ritwik Ghatak in 50 Fragments': A Document of Revolutionary Imagination

, has pulled off a rare box-office feat. The spy-actioner has recorded the highest collection witnessed in Indian cinema on a film's second Friday, beating the mighty 

, Akshaye Khanna, R Madhavan, Arjun Rampal and Sanjay Dutt,  the film is estimated to have earned ₹33 to 35 crore on its second Friday, comfortably above its opening-day haul of ₹28 crore. The figure surpasses 

’s second-Friday net of approximately ₹28 crore, achieved last December.

which picked up unprecedented momentum despite not setting records on the opening day, is now on track to script newer benchmarks, including registering the highest-grossing second week of all time, estimated to be around ₹120-130 cr.

The film is expected to cross ₹300 cr domestic total by Sunday, after which the stage will be set for its sure-shot entry to the ₹500 cr club (India), and then the film could go higher and chase down records set by films like 

that if the "experiment" works, he will put his might behind more such projects, including feature films as well as season two of the show. And now, things are on track.

Headlined by Gulshan Devaiah, Neha Dhupia, Manoj Pahwa, Seema Pahwa, and Girija Oak, among others, 

launched on YouTube under a structured pay model, with the first two episodes available for free. 

Tripathi had confessed that he came on board to present the show because of its subject, but was curious to know how the series, and specifically the model of viewers unlocking the remaining episodes through a single one-time ₹59 purchase, would pan out.

"It is a risk, because the storytelling and theme of a family going to therapy is what we are confident about, but how will this pan out?  The streaming space is cluttered and we are trying to do something novel with this. If it lands, I will do many more of this," Tripathi had said.

Now, the actor has confirmed that the series, backed by Ajay Rai, will return for a new season, with the cast, script, and production timelines expected to be locked in a month. Talking to 

, Tripathi said he was thrilled to see the audience "embrace the story and its message," and he was "happy to extend" his support for the next season as well. "We look forward to bringing an even more impactful chapter.”

Lights, Camera, Scoop: 'Dhurandhar' Scripts Box-Office History; Pankaj Tripathi Greenlights 'Perfect Family' Sequel

Of the many actors that have found acceptance and acclaim in the OTT space, Huma Qureshi is a name that’s gone under the radar. Post-

 (2014), mainstream Hindi cinema sort of fumbled her, which is why it’s been refreshing to see her have one streaming moment after another over the years.

This last month has been one of those moments; every format has had a 

 release. There have been the films — a scene-stealing role in 

 the headlining of the surprisingly solid 

. And, of course, the very popular shows. Qureshi has grown from strength to strength as the star of the Sony LIV hit 

; it’s not often a female-led political drama is renewed year after year, both on screen and off it.

Her depiction of Bihar Chief Minister Rani Bharti, who now enters the realm of national politics, has slowly become its own entity. What started as a patchy inspired-by-real-events and spot-the-minister journey is now a world driven by Qureshi and her conviction in the flashy material. Her screen presence is an under-appreciated weapon, and she employs it to elevate the show’s mid-budget aesthetic. And then there’s her victim-and-monster-of-system act as a Haryanvi trafficking kingpin in 

. She resists the temptation of overcooking the character, despite the writing that often leans into villain-coded gimmicks.

Qureshi nails the balance between lover and hustler, oppressor and survivor, as if she’s allowing two different versions of the same woman to compete with each other. It’s a smart and culturally interpretative performance, and one of the few bright spots of a crime series that struggles to live up to its own legacy. 

That’s been one of the themes in this streaming year. It’s been an outstanding time for new, original shows and opening salvos — first (and hopefully not the last) seasons of 

, Khauf, The Hunt and Black, White & Gray

 have left an indelible mark in terms of expanding the boundaries of storytelling. And that was just the first half of the year. But it’s the franchises — shows that started with a similar bang — that have yielded mixed results. While 

 Season 3 were crafty and watchable, you can tell that they are creaking under the pressure of their own high bars and templates; it doesn’t help that both seasons have eerily similar settings (North-East India) and plots, and the actor who plays the protagonist of one show is the antagonist in the next. Regardless of the results, this shared-universe syndrome is a sign of how most Indian cop and spy thrillers are finding it difficult to explore new political and social ground in 2025.

They tend to say the same thing in different ways and with different brushes; it’s not the fault of the creators of course. We’re finally seeing a direct effect on originality and expression, given the sensitive and censored times we live in. 

. Season three runs out of ideas before it begins, and there’s a subtle shift in ideology and tone — veering more towards glorification than humanisation of the cops — this time around. In isolation, it’s a middling and functional watch: solid in parts, convoluted in others. But it doesn’t have the advantage that something like 

 does: levity. The relentless intensity and gender expression of 

 is both its strength and weakness. But it has no new things to say, which is why there’s an emphasis on the moral fibre of its characters rather than the ‘adaptation’ of the tragedies it’s inspired by.

, that bittersweet social comedy that’s lost steam and painted itself into a privatised corner. These two were arguably the most anticipated Indian shows of 2025. And it says something that neither would make a year-ender of the finest Hindi web series alone. After all, you either die a hero or live long enough to become intellectual property and content.

Season 2 coming soon, one can only hope for the bucking of this trend. As we head into the new year, it’s not a race against time. It’s still safe to say that the cream of Hindi cinema is found in the long-format space. The movies may be faltering and stuck in a herd-mentality loop, but the shows keep the flag flying — whatever that flag may look like today.

The inversely proportional relationship between the two formats has been the case since 2019. Having seen the landscape evolve, plateau, search, flounder and thrive for the last 10 years, however, I can confirm that Bollywood’s loss is always going to be streaming’s gain.

2025 in Indian Streaming: A Year of Mixed Triumphs, Bold Beginnings and Stalling Sequels

 (swear on bread fritters)” and the lovely piano tune during modern Hindi cinema’s most heartfelt kiss. I hear the bustle of Janakpuri, smell the privilege of Sainik Farms, and sense the chemistry between two newcomers (one newer than the other) on the brink of fame.

That’s the currency of a trendsetting entertainer. It becomes its own cultural lexicon or, as the kids today call it: a vibe. 

And the more formal markers become a quiet resident of this package — Maneesh Sharma’s directorial debut, Ranveer Singh’s acting debut, 

’s breakout role, Salim-Sulaiman’s criminally catchy soundtrack, and editor Namrata Rao’s pre-

 (YRF) gamechanger, or the spiritual ancestor of the wedding-planner template of

. The story of Bittoo Sharma and Shruti Kakkar remains remarkable for its gender balance, the subversion of the slacker-saved-by-selfless-woman trope, the musicality of its energy, and the fluid staging of West Delhi as a character trait. But just as it takes a village to raise a child, it took a genre of community to craft the success of this film. Back then, the cinema of middle-class mobility was at its peak in Bollywood.

 felt like the culmination of a genre that reflected the ambitions of a young India no longer shackled by conventional aspiration and blueprint careers.

Early on, a posh wedding planner calls out for an employee named ‘Dibakar’, a nod to the director that triggered this movement with gems like 

felt like the lovechild of two particular YRF productions: the cultural lineage of writer Habib Faisal’s directorial debut 

 combined with the self-employed grit of 

 While many of these movies had found critical acclaim and a cult following over time, they were far from box-office ringers in the late 2000s. You can tell that 

 is a producer-calibrated version of the titles. That’s not to say it’s compromised in any capacity; it’s just designed to be more commercially accessible. It’s a rare mainstream update that retains the soul of its lesser-watched predecessors.

For instance, the sharp entrepreneurial drama of 

 is custom-fitted with a rom-com angle. Everything is a little more glamorous. An underdog’s coming-of-age conflict is replaced by the more orthodox complications of business partners who grow feelings for each other. There’s a bit of 

 in their friends-with-emotional-benefits dynamic: a go-getter girl and drifter boy course-correcting one another. A Mumbai-based computer company is replaced by a visually diverse profession that offers a license for colour, song-and-dance gigs and multiple class settings. Some of the memorable 

 characters reappear in not-so-different avatars: Neeraj Sood as a veteran vendor, Manish Choudhary as a pompous client. Shruti’s declaration to an ex-boss — “We will meet in the market” — is a direct shoutout to the universe they share.

The biggest sign of this formula expansion emerges right off the bat. One of Bittoo’s first scenes features him crashing a wedding for a freebie dinner with two hostel friends — a moment that immediately invokes 3 Idiots-sized adjustments. It becomes clear that this film is searching for a larger lens to project the smaller stories that YRF was already telling. The love story is turned into the foreground, not the backdrop it usually tends to be in social commentary-driven vehicles and entrepreneurial dramas. For a change, it’s the right kind of evolution. The tense relationship between the two young leads seamlessly informs the challenges of starting and running a scale-driven business. (Their ‘Shaadi Mubarak’ office, at least on the outside, looks like the cyber cafe that Shah Rukh Khan’s Gaurav Chandna runs in Maneesh Sharma’s 

years later.) Even the entitlement of the cute and guileless boy panicking at first — only to want her when he realises she’s planning a future with someone else — is the narrative ancestor of many of the Ranbir Kapoor heroes that followed. 

The decision to base the whole conflict around one night of passion is fascinating. Shruti refuses to be a crossed-connection tragic story after that, instead unleashing her North-flavoured ego to destroy him rather than silently pining for them. (The roles were reversed in 

 where the hero’s tantrum defined the story). The gap between a man’s denial and a woman’s acceptance is cleverly used in a film that finds the sweet spot between two genres. The fate of their company is inextricably linked to their juvenile exploration of love. Neither of them is equipped to deal with the consequences of their personalities beyond the work it inspires.

doesn’t feel like one of those homage-filled, meta-Bollywood odes is because its riffs are internal. It’s not for show. It learns from its elders and still manages to be its own person. If anything, it legitimised their heritage and played a role in the slow-burning popularity of the Dibakar Banerjee movies, the niche 

. So many of the city’s establishment shots — where we see two lives on a collision course in a Raj-and-Simran-styled template — feature the Delhi metro and other modes of transport, literalising the mobility that the story goes on to excavate. In these portions, Bittoo seems to be the guy who’s idolised flimsy campus movies, while Shruti is the one creating her own narrative. That he hitches a ride on her wagon before she begins to respect — and therefore love — him is one of the film’s many little touches that do not get drowned out by the noisy exterior. It resists the temptation of exotic destination weddings, staying rooted in the brackets of a region that equates the spectacle of a wedding with the illusion of prosperity and societal value. It’s no coincidence that Sharma’s 

(2016), his most ambitious film, lost steam the second it left local shores in its second half.

 is also immensely rewatchable, because it introduced the restless stardom of Ranveer Singh at a time when the Bombay industry was more welcoming of outside talent. Most new voices arrived with the hope of being launched by a legacy production house, yet there were directors like Anurag Kashyap, Sriram Raghavan and Vishal Bhardwaj who challenged celebrityhood with the clinicality of craft. As Bittoo, Singh looked shapeless in the best way possible. Before entering the race of next-gen superstars, both Sharma and him manufactured a snappy-Delhi-romcom oeuvre so effective that it sprung several pretenders and lesser imitations over the coming decade. It was as if

was both Frankenstein and the evocative creature brought to life from the debris of previous aspirants.

Fifteen years later, today, I’m certain that a movie like this would be oblivious to its own derived originality. We live in a vastly changed India, one where marriage stories have acquired the artifice of lavish wedding celebrations. Films like these, then, become more than a flashback. They’re a reminder that budget and intent are strong-minded lovers whose compatibility is to be earned. That the mixing of business and pleasure is not a toxic cocktail: a first-time ‘event’ is not possible without florists, caterers and musicians working together to prove a point. Would Bittoo and Shruti have lasted as a couple? Probably not. But their legacy — and work ethic — lives on every time a seemingly formulaic sleeper-hit captures the chaotic heart of a nation. 

15 Years of 'Band Baaja Baaraat': Bollywood’s Bijness-Class Romance

“Don’t quote me on this but I really like crime shows,” says actor Priyamani. And she clearly knows a thing or two about high-stakes investigation. With 

 having just released at the end of November, she’s now spent years inhabiting the world of espionage and danger. Off-screen, she’s just as drawn to the genre — devouring crime series that blend forensic detail with psychological intrigue.

, Priyamani shared her top six crime shows and what makes them — in her eyes — essential viewing.

follows forensic anthropologist Dr. Temperance Brennan and FBI special agent Seeley Booth as they investigate crimes and decipher clues from human remains. The show employs good old detective work paired with the science of forensics, keeping viewers hooked. Streaming in India on JioHotstar, it draws us into the compelling world of ‘bone analysis’ — how fracture patterns or bone density can lead you to a killer. “I would love to rewatch 

because it is one of those informative shows on a subject that is good to learn about,” says Priyamani.

Centred around a multi-generational family of policemen in New York City, 

 explores duty through the intricacies of relationships and rigid family values. Each of the family members holds distinctive positions in the judicial and law enforcement system: the patriarch (played by Tom Selleck) is the police commissioner, the elder son is a lead detective in the New York Police Department, the younger son is a law graduate who also joins the NYPD, and the daughter is a district attorney. For Priyamani, “What really hooks you is seeing how different types of crime unfold and watch the family decipher the clues together.”

unfolds in modern-day Portland, USA, but is deeply rooted in German folklore. The protagonist, Nick Burkhardt, is a homicide detective who discovers his ancient lineage from a long line of 

— supernatural beings tasked with protecting humanity from mythological creatures known as ‘Wesen’. The series explores Nick’s mental conflict between procedural police work and his supernatural calling. The folklore and drama are carefully threaded in the show, available on Amazon Prime Video. “I absolutely love that when the characters are over-emotional — when they’re angry or sad — the animal in them comes out,” Priyamani says. 

 follows Morgan Gillory, a single mother of three who works as a cleaner to make ends meet. Morgan soon discovers that she is gifted with a high IQ, and her intuitive thinking draws the attention of the Los Angeles Police Department, where she is onboarded as a consultant to help solve complex crimes through unconventional means. “It is her presence of mind that intrigues me the most, and her ability to read the room in the right way,” Priyamani says. 

Season 2 is streaming on Amazon Prime Video and JioHotstar. 

The average human lies at least once a day. So, what about the average criminal? Hailing from the mind of actor, producer and screenwriter, Samuel Baum, Lie to Me is an American psychological crime drama revolving around Dr. Cal Lightman (Tim Roth), a body language expert who assist investigators in detecting deceptions by using psychology. “What intrigues me is the way the show plays with your psyche,” says Priyamani. It explores the subtle art of physical signals, such as facial twitches or eye movement, and how these micro-expressions can be a natural tell to identify if a person is lying. 

, Poppy Montgomery stars as Carrie Wells, a former detective with a rare condition called hyperthymesia. “She solves the crime not always by being in the thick of the action, but because her mind works in mysterious ways,” says Priyamani.  Hyperthymesia gives her a photographic memory — she recalls every instant of her life in perfect detail. Every room she enters, every conversation she has, nothing escapes the meticulous ledger of her mind. The brilliance of her memory aids investigators in solving dead-end cases, making for a compelling watch.

Actor Priyamani Shares Her Favourite Crime Shows: From 'Bones' to 'Unforgettable'

One of the underrated pleasures of being online in 2025 is watching billionaires casually turn their weddings into full-scale 

-coded music videos. Instagram feeds routinely combust when a high-profile 

assembles assorted A-listers, fireworks, drones, and enough bling to cause temporary blindness. But beneath the sparkle lies a simple truth which often gets overlooked: celebrities don’t 

attend weddings because they’re “close to the family.” Bollywood doesn’t do close; it does invoices.

So what does it actually cost to make a star show up, smile at your ceremony, pose with your uncle, charm your aunt, and accidentally photobomb your cousins? 

spoke to industry insiders—including those who’ve attended these Big Fat Wedding Extravaganzas—to piece together a possible wedding rate card. Grab your calculators (and possibly your life savings).

A “wedding appearance” is the most popular package because stars prefer it over full-blown performances. The numbers mentioned below are approximate and differ from case to case.

 sits comfortably at the top, reportedly charging ₹5 to 6 crore just to walk in, charm the room and glide out. 

—gearing up for the release of his mighty spy-actioner 

—comes in at around ₹2 crore. Akshay Kumar, who once joked he’s open to performing even at a children’s 

 reportedly command ₹1.25 to 1.50 crore each, while 

, Sara Ali Khan and Disha Patani charge between ₹60 to 70 lakh.

Like film sets or any other promotional events, these visits are accompanied by an entourage of around 10 people: managers, stylists, hair and makeup teams, security and spot boys.

The general sentiment in the industry is that most celebrities don’t like to perform at weddings. But when they do, the actors charge handsomely with a standard format.

Shahid Kapoor and Varun Dhawan would charge anywhere between ₹1 to 2 crore for their performances, which includes 5–6 minutes on stage, followed by interactions and photos. When it comes to female performers, it includes two entries of 6–7 minutes each, followed by backstage photos with the relatives and family.

If dancing doesn't excite you, then there is also a subcategory of being the wedding emcee. According to sources, Manish Paul charges anywhere between ₹12 to 15 lakh while 

 can pocket up to ₹10 lakh for the job.

One can select any package they like for the wedding, but how to reach the venue? Generally, only four stars get private charter flights for wedding gigs: Shah Rukh Khan, Salman Khan, Ranveer Singh and Akshay Kumar, each flying with their full teams. For other actors, a charter is provided only if 5–6 of them are booked together, essentially turning it into a glamorous group project.

Lights, Camera, Scoop | Bollywood’s Wedding Rate Card: What do SRK, Salman Khan, Ranveer Singh, Janhvi Kapoor and Others Charge?

Legendary actor Dharmendra, one of the definitive male leads of Indian cinema, the Veeru of 

and the ‘He-Man’ of Bollywood, passed away in Mumbai on 

Born Dharmendra Kewal Krishan Deol in Ludhiana, Punjab, the actor would enter the annals of cinema in his early 20s, and go on to chart a vast and celebrated career, buoyed by his industrial-strength charm and easy beauty on-screen, spanning over six decades, working in more than 300 films, setting the record for delivering the most number of hit films. In 2012, he was honoured with the Padma Bhushan, India’s third-highest civilian honour.

Dharmendra began his career with the 1960 film 

. His next on-screen appearance will be in 

Here is a guide to some of his most iconic films, with some off-center suggestions to give a sense of his range, and the span of his career.

(1966) has Dharmendra’s character poignantly nudging the daughter (Sharmila Tagore) out of her shackles. While he received raves for his performance in this film, Dharmendra believed Mukherjee’s 

 (1969), where he struggles between the dichotomy of idealism and practicality, to be the strongest role of his career. In a 1998 

interview calling Dharmendra his favourite hero, Mukherjee said, “By favourite actor, I didn’t mean just his acting talent. I meant the human being also. I cast Dharmendra as a professor in 

, the most satisfying film I’ve made.”

(1967). Dharmendra even played a fictionalised version of himself in 

What can one say about the film that hasn’t been said already? Iconic for plenty reasons—its sleek action, the censorship battles, its rousing success, capturing the imagination of a nation and the mood of a trying decade—

 in one of Indian cinema's greatest pairings. Yet the film, shot on location in Karnataka, also cemented the love of Dharmendra and Hema Malini. In 1973, the pair delivered five hits together, establishing them as a successful on-screen star pair. 

would raise the stakes. Dharmendra, a married man, through the shoot tried wooing Hema Malini, who was being courted by a litany of other men, and kept under the strict gaze of her mother. Dharmendra had his ways. When he had scenes with Hema Malini, he would pay the light boys to mess up the lighting so he could embrace her again and again. Dharmendra and Hema Malini married in 1980 and have two daughters.

Adventures of Ali-Baba and the Forty Thieves (1980)

Dharmendra’s charm leaked beyond the Indian borders. An Indo-Soviet film based on the Arabian Nights story of the same film, directed by Soviet director Latif Faiziyev and Indian director Umesh Mehra, it was one of the most successful Indian-Soviet co-productions. 

Film scholar Masha Salazkina writes, “[T]he figure of Ali Baba as a good-hearted simpleton—Dharmendra’s trademark of the 1970s, which was a transposition of his roles in the “socials” of the 1960s, such 

 (Hrishikesh Mukherjee, 1966)—resonated with the Russian folk tradition of a simple peasant hero, linking the two film iconographies.” 

The 1990s was a despairing decade for Dharmendra. In fact, it is often written off. But it was in the 1990s that Dharmendra took over the mantle of Dara Singh among the small town masses, while his contemporaries, Vinod Khanna, Jeetendra, and Shatrughan Singh had fallen out of the limelight. 

While this decade opened up Indian cinema to a new 

of hero—the polished, genteel, chocolate boy—on the other hand, there were Kanti Shah’s films, many starring Dharmendra. These films were made, as 

reported,  “with shooting schedules of just around a month… at a shoe-string budget, at times ridiculously low sum of Rs.40 lakh…always recover[ing] their money, and ma[king] a lot of it over and above the cost. They all came in unannounced, no satellite promos, no special talk shows by artists, not even those gigantic hoardings one used to see at the traffic intersections in the years past.”

(2001). While considered B and C grade films, these cemented Dharmendra’s mofussil appeal at a time when they were forgotten by the mainstream gaze. 

Perhaps, then, to star in a Karan Johar film, the precise kind of movie that pushed him off the pedestal in the 1990s was a sweet circling back for Dharmendra. Playing Kanwal Lund, the grandfather of the titular hero, his character did not recede into the background, in fact strengthening the love of the lead pair with his parallel love story. It was nostalgic, but also energetic—not the kind of performance that leans so heavily on the past it forgets to chart a future.

From 'Sholay' to 'Rocky Aur Rani Kii Prem Kahaani,' Here Are Five of Dharmendra's Most Iconic Films

It’s been an underwhelming month for the Indian streaming space. Originality suffered: 

, overcooks an ambitious concept — one that fuses themes of misogyny and digital gaming — to result in a generic thriller. Derivations suffered: 

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 is a vanilla TVF-coded coaching-class drama that does nothing new with the formula. Adaptations suffered: 

, despite starring Konkona Sen Sharma, becomes yet another crime remake that’s content to be content. Even non-fiction suffered: 

actors Kajol and Twinkle Khanna, exudes celebrity-and-friends fatigue

 despite a guest-roster of Salman Khan, Aamir Khan, Alia Bhatt, Akshay Kumar, Saif Ali Khan and Varun Dhawan.

But the OTT landscape is never short of patterns, moments and individuals to write about.

For example, it’s worth noting that mainstream Hindi shows are expanding their geographic identities beyond the binaries of murky big cities and atmospheric small towns. The Mumbai-adjacent settings, in particular, do well to weave middle-class Maharashtrian culture into the machinations of the plot. After 

 turned the class diversity of Thane into a character earlier this year, 

 legitimises the open spaces and perceived urban wilderness of Vashi and Navi Mumbai. By staging a big crime investigation in the area, it exposes the genre limitations of overused mazes like Mumbai, Delhi and Kolkata. It’s the NCR equivalent of financial-capital sagas, where characters on both sides of the law are concealed and empowered by the non-mainstream nature of the regions.

I suspect most of these productions owe Sriram Raghavan for being a genre pioneer and normalising (as opposed to fetishising) the Tier-2 spirit of Pune and Badlapur.

It’s the right opportunity to write about a recurring trope this year: that of the teddy bear dad. Shows like 

 in terms of the characterisation of gentle fathers — and the more level-headed parent of the two. It’s a far cry from Bollywood melodramas of previous decades, where these men often doubled up as hot-tempered baddies with good-cop wives. Apart from playing identical-looking men, both Vijayant Kohli (in 

) evoke the reassuring anti-patriarchal warmth of the late Farooq Shaikh in 

They also play a key role in the advancement of central arcs. Kohli’s smiley character not only dies and humanises the young movie-star protagonist; it’s hinted that he may have wittingly or unwittingly nurtured a son that was not (biologically) his. Deshmukh’s cuddly character goes one step ahead, on an unhinged rampage, after the murder of his daughter and its headless investigation.

There’s something about watching middle-aged men with kind faces suffer a tragic fate, which somehow goes hand in glove with the redemption of their toxic and abusive counterparts on the big screen.

Speaking of kindness, seeing actors like Mona Singh and Manoj Pahwa shine in overnight-fame productions never gets old. Most shows and movies that revolve around green protagonists tend to have a bullet-proof supporting cast. Even though Bobby Deol, the director, and the meme-worthy youngsters walk away with most of the plaudits for 

, Singh and Pahwa form the backbone of a show shaped by glitzy access and meta gags. Singh plays the affable but anxious mother of the hero; her track eventually defines the ‘twist’ of a storyline that refuses to take a moral high-ground and judge its seniors. Pahwa seems to be playing the comic relief as the colourful uncle, until we realise that he’s a struggler who uses humour as a coping mechanism to offset a failed music career. Both thrive in the shadows, with poignant and present performances that cushion the spoofy excesses of the Farah Khan-successor series.

Last but never the least, the perpetual resurgence of Arshad Warsi is a sight for sore eyes. He was one of the early movers in the star-to-streaming ecosystem with the national success of 

. In the last month alone, without even counting the box-office mobility of 

, Warsi has returned with the catchy cameo as gangster Gafoor (try getting the song out of your head) in 

 and the lead role in the new Zee5 mytho-thriller 

. Whether it’s films or shows, it’s just reassuring to see Munna Bhai’s swaggy ‘Circuit’ come into his own and find his own fanbase.

Hindi cinema is simply a better place when actors like him continue to thrive across mediums. It’s like meeting a friend from the good old days for a drink and a laugh — a feeling that’s going extinct in an era of algorithmic entertainment.

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On a clamorous Diwali weekend in 2007, choreographer-turned-director Farah Khan’s second film opened its eyes: kicking, laughing, drooling, dreaming, and playing with its umbilical cord as if it were a toy. Most movies release, but 

All at once, it contained the innocence of a toddler, the irreverence of a teenager and the affection of an adult. In a decade where Hindi cinema expanded its vocabulary of storytelling, 

 became a Bollywood-sized ode to the alphabets that defined the language. An entire film industry was taught to laugh at itself. Just like that, a sense of humour was bestowed upon a country that was getting serious about its post-liberalisation status.

For every landscape-altering filmmaker like 

 — the ones who carved cinema out of life — there appeared a landscape-nourishing director like 

 or Farah Khan to balance the scales and carve life out of cinema. Khan’s imprint was just as significant as the auteurs and the geeks. She became an essential bridge between storytelling and entertainment; between why we created and where we escaped.

Like its Shah Rukh Khan-shaped protagonist,

 passed but never died. Its prescience remains alive to the world we live in today. Years before “nepotism” entered the showbiz lexicon as a swear-word, along came the storyline of a talented outsider being erased by a producer only to return as a nepo-baby who goes on to avenge the tragedy of said outsider. It was a harsh truth softened by the onslaught of vintage silver-screen tropes. 

 also became a viral spoof before memes, social media, online skits and TVF parodies changed the grammar of satire. Word of mouth spread through actual words and talking mouths.

The unfiltered gags (the Quickgun Murugun and Filmfare-award bits remain cultural moments), amateur mimicry (my favourite: young Sooraj Barjatya getting a brainwave for 

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