Everything feels manufactured—plotlines made for algorithms, characters who speak in trailer punchlines, emotions that last exactly until the next stunt sequence.
Where’s the quiet grief of Lootera, the crackling chemistry of Jab We Met, the vulnerable rage of Rockstar? Why is everything now about scale, not soul?
Maybe Saiyaara returning is a sign. Maybe there’s a sliver of the old warmth left—if only someone dares to write from the gut again, not the boardroom.
We don’t want more noise. We want to feel again.
In 2012, Barfi! made us weep without a single dramatic monologue. Gangs of Wasseypur gave us storytelling that felt like cinema, not content. Kahaani had us holding our breath till the last second. Even a song like Abhi Mujh Mein Kahin could stop time.
There was still magic in quietness. There was room for pauses, for longing, for imperfection. Films were messy like people—not polished like brand campaigns.
Now in 2025, every release looks like a marketing deck. Story arcs made for reels, music made for remixes, characters designed for merch. It’s not about moving you; it’s about trending.
Just look at Housefull 5—what even was that? A chaotic montage of forced jokes, louder-than-life slapstick, and plotlines stitched together with zero respect for the audience’s intelligence. It's like they don't even pretend to try anymore. Just throw in a few stars, a remix of a 90s hit, a bunch of green screen explosions, and call it a film.
Compare that to 2012, when even our comedies (Vicky Donor, anyone?) had depth, heart, and something to say. Now it's all spectacle, no soul. If Housefull 5 is what Bollywood thinks we deserve, maybe we’ve lowered the bar too far to notice.
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