A.R. Murugadoss’ Sikandar isn’t just a misfire—it’s an all-out assault on storytelling coherence, a film so convinced of its own grandeur that it forgets to be entertaining.
Designed solely to amplify Salman Khan’s invincible “bhai” persona, the movie struts around like an emperor with delusions of brilliance. Yet, beneath the swagger and spectacle, there’s nothing but hollowness. Its ambitions are colossal, but its execution is embarrassingly clumsy.
A Recycled Premise, But Without the Punch
Murugadoss seems to be retreading familiar ground, borrowing elements from his own Ghajini (2008), which at least had a gripping revenge narrative anchored by Aamir Khan’s intense performance. Sikandar, in contrast, starts with a similar trigger—the death of a woman—but instead of a focused vendetta, it spirals into a tangled web of half-baked subplots. What could have been a sharp, emotionally charged drama devolves into a chaotic mess, struggling to balance a love story, a political feud, and a hero’s quest for justice—none of which land with any real impact.
Salman Khan: The Same Old Swagger, Zero Substance
Salman plays Sanjay Rajkot, the “last Maharaja,” a title that suggests nobility but delivers nothing beyond his usual screen persona. He’s less a king and more a street brawler with a crown, dispensing vigilante justice with the same exaggerated bravado we’ve seen in countless other films. The character is painted as a benevolent ruler, but his actions are those of a one-man army, demolishing goons with cartoonish ease. There’s no depth, no evolution—just Salman being Salman, complete with slow-motion walks and punchlines that feel more tired than triumphant.
A Romance That Falls Flat
The film’s weakest link is its forced love story between Sanjay and Rashmika Mandanna’s Srisai, a pairing that lacks chemistry from the start. Rashmika, playing a much younger queen, comes off as a giggly college student rather than a regal presence, making their relationship painfully unconvincing. Their romance is cut short by tragedy, which should be the emotional core of the film—but instead, it feels like a rushed setup for Sanjay’s redemption arc.
Too Many Subplots, Too Little Coherence
What follows is a series of disjointed missions where Sanjay takes on the role of savior for three random strangers: a slum kid, an aspiring businesswoman (Kajal Aggarwal), and a heartbroken young woman (Anjini Dhawan). Each storyline feels like a half-hearted attempt at social messaging, but none are developed enough to resonate. The film jumps between Rajkot and Mumbai, cramming in political intrigue, slum redevelopment, and women’s empowerment—yet none of these threads are woven together with any finesse.
Villainy Without Bite
Sathyaraj’s Minister Pradhan should have been a formidable foe, but he’s reduced to a generic corrupt politician, snarling clichés like “Yeh kalyug hai” without any real menace. His conflict with Sanjay lacks tension because the writing never bothers to make him a credible threat. Even Prateik Babbar as his spoiled, villainous son is wasted in a role that amounts to little more than cannon fodder for Salman’s action scenes.
Action That Excites, But Doesn’t Elevate
To its credit, Sikandar delivers some well-shot action sequences—bursts of energy in an otherwise sluggish narrative. Salman Khan, despite his age, still commands the screen in fight scenes, and Murugadoss stages a few visually striking moments. But these set pieces can’t compensate for the film’s lack of a compelling story. The final showdown between Sanjay and Pradhan is meant to be a clash of ideologies—selfless hero vs. corrupt power—but it’s so predictable that it feels more like a contractual obligation than a climax.
A Film That Loses Its Own Plot
Sikandar wants to be many things—a love story, a revenge saga, a social drama—but in trying to be everything, it ends up being nothing. The writing is scattered, the pacing uneven, and the emotional beats fall flat. Even Salman’s trademark charisma can’t salvage a script this messy.
By the time Sanjay declares, “Insaaf nahi, saaf karna hai,” the irony is palpable—because Sikandar is anything but clean. It’s a cluttered, self-indulgent spectacle that mistakes noise for narrative. If this is Murugadoss and Salman’s idea of epic storytelling, maybe it’s time for a rethink. Because as it stands, Sikandar isn’t just bad—it’s forgettable. And for a film about keeping memories alive, that’s the biggest failure of all.
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