Review: 'Logout'- A striking Babil Khan navigates the toxic highs of digital world

When your entire world lives inside your phone, what happens when it’s snatched away? Imagine this: you're on the brink of hitting 10 million followers. You're adored by millions, your content is viral, brand deals are pouring in, and your life is at least on screen perfect. Then, just like that, it's all gone. Not your life, not your fame, but the device that holds it all together, your phone.

That's Logout; a film that doesn’t just ask you to look at your screen, but dares to question what it’s costing you. Directed by Amit Golani and written by Biswapati Sarkar, Logout throws us into the digitally dazzling and emotionally draining world of Pratyush Dua, a social media influencer played by Babil Khan. Known to his fans as “Pratman,” Pratyush is the kind of internet personality we all recognize, charismatic, funny, and always a scroll away from your screen. But as the film slowly unravels, we realize that his carefully curated online persona is more of a digital armor than a reflection of his real self.

The Premise

The story kicks off when Pratyush’s phone is stolen. Now, you might be thinking, so what? Just buy another one. But in Pratyush's case, it’s not just a gadget; it’s his entire identity. His followers, his content, his access to his smart home, even his sense of self-worth, everything is locked in that one sleek device. When it's stolen by a fan with an unnerving fixation, the theft becomes less about property and more about possession. A terrifying cat-and-mouse game begins, with digital dependency and personal security colliding in unexpected and often eerie ways.

What follows is a descent, not just into panic, but into a psychological tailspin where the line between performance and personality begins to blur. It's a scenario that might sound exaggerated until you realize how many of us start and end our day with a glowing screen in hand.

Logout doesn’t just talk about the addiction to phones, it lives in it. The film is a bold reflection of a generation living in the glow of likes, retweets, and follower counts. It delivers a direct jab at how digital fame can often come at the cost of mental peace. Through Pratyush’s downfall, the film paints a bleak yet familiar picture: how our desire to be seen, loved, and validated online can blind us to the chaos building offline.

There’s a brilliant early monologue that cuts right to the bone: “We don’t look into our phones, we live through them.” And by the time you’re halfway through the movie, you might catch yourself checking your own screen, wondering what you're missing, or what’s missing in you.

Screenlife, but Not Just That

Now here’s where Logout gets particularly interesting. Though it falls under the “screenlife” genre, the type popularized by films that unfold entirely on digital screens, Golani doesn’t restrict himself to just that. He mixes things up, weaving in scenes outside the screen, balancing virtual claustrophobia with real-world emptiness. That balance keeps the film from becoming too gimmicky or one-dimensional.

There are metaphorical visuals scattered throughout, subtle, but powerful if you catch them. A standout moment involves a mouse trapped in the kitchen. As Pratyush sets it free, it echoes his own desperate need for liberation from the digital cage he's unknowingly built around himself. Little shots like this speak louder than words. They’re not flashy, but they linger. Another clever moment? A line that defines the mobile phone as “a prison designed for your mind.”

The Director's Vision: Controlled Chaos

Amit Golani, known for his work on Maamla Legal Hai and Kaala Paani, brings a grounded sense of realism to a story that could've easily veered into melodrama or preachiness. He resists the urge to sermonize. There's no wagging finger here. Just a mirror. And what you see in it might depend entirely on how much of your own time you spend doomscrolling.

Golani captures the high-speed, high-pressure, high-anxiety world of content creation with just the right tone. There are moments, especially the last few minutes and the pre-climax sequences, where the drama elevates, and things feel like going into the 'bollywoody' territory. But it doesn't feel extra and does not veer away from the film's theme.

Apart from that the film also highlights thin light on inter-personal relationships and 'daddy issues', but not in the same old conventional way. It adds a depth to Pratyush's backstory making his character and his actions backed by conviction.

Babil Khan: The Soul of the Film

Let's talk about the real show-stealer here, Babil Khan. Yes, he's the son of the legendary Irrfan Khan, and yes, that legacy casts a long shadow. But make no mistake: Babil is carving a path of his own, and Logout is a powerful testament to that. His performance is raw, restrained, and uncomfortably honest. You don't just watch Pratyush fall apart, you feel it. His breakdowns aren't dramatic flourishes. They're subtle, internal, and sometimes silent. And that's what makes them so effective.

There's a particularly moving scene during a livestream meltdown, where a fan comments, "Better acting than nepo kids." It's self-aware. It's ironic. And it hits just right. Not only does it reflect the film's sharp sense of humor, but it also plays into the very discourse the film is engaging with how online personas, commentary, and perception shape real people.

The Shortcomings

Nimisha Nair plays Sakshi, the obsessive fan who spirals into the film's antagonist. While she's effective, her portrayal of eerie devotion is chilling her character feels more like a device than a person. The writing doesn't fully explore her backstory or motivations. She becomes a mouthpiece for the film's themes rather than a fully realized individual.

Rashika Duggal, in a smaller role as Pratyush's sister, offers a flicker of warmth and familial grounding in an otherwise cold, mechanical world. But again, we don't spend enough time with her to truly care.

This is where Logout stumbles. For all its ambition, it sometimes skims the surface of its deeper psychological themes. The final act leans into conventional thriller tropes, a chase, a confrontation, a predictable twist when it could've pushed further into the emotional consequences of digital loss and identity theft. The last 20 minutes, in particular, feel rushed. The tension builds up beautifully, only to fizzle in a climax that plays it a little too safe.

For viewers familiar with Netflix's CTRL or the unnerving Black Mirror series, the themes of Logout will feel familiar but not derivative. If CTRL was a stylish, sharp look at digital surveillance and Black Mirror was a warning siren from a future that feels too close, Logout sits somewhere in between. It doesn't invent a new world, it shows you the one you're already living in.

At just under two hours, Logout manages to say a lot, sometimes more than it can handle. But it says it with sincerity, style, and more than a few gut punches. It's not perfect. It's not revolutionary. But it is relevant. In an age where dopamine comes in 15-second reels, and self-worth is counted in double taps, this film asks an uncomfortable but necessary question: If you lose your phone, do you lose yourself? Babil Khan ensures you stick around long enough to wrestle with the answer. The film is currently streaming on ZEE5 and you can definitely give it a watch.