Where Overacting Meets Underwhelming Plot
Dharundar—what a cinematic experience. If you’re a fan of films that leave you questioning your life choices, this one will definitely not disappoint. In fact, it might just be the greatest comedy you didn’t know you needed, except it’s not trying to be funny. It’s trying to be serious, but, let’s face it, every frame of it practically begs for a sarcastic laugh track.
Now, let’s start with the plot. Oh, the plot. If you’ve ever seen a movie where characters seem to be wandering around with no idea why they’re even there, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about. This film’s plot is like that one group project in school where no one really does the work but everyone pretends like they have it all under control. The story—if you can call it that—follows a character (presumably Dharundar, but honestly, the lines between the protagonist and a random NPC could blur pretty easily here). He’s got, well, motivations—sort of—but they appear to change every 15 minutes, much like how your New Year’s resolution switches from eating healthy to “you know what, maybe I’ll have a pizza.”
The film opens with Dharundar doing… something. Maybe he’s brooding, maybe he’s looking deep into the horizon, questioning life, who knows? The point is, it’s deep, but not deep enough to escape the sinking feeling you’ll have that something is seriously off about this movie. One second he’s laughing, the next he’s screaming, and it’s as if the director was like, “You know what? Let’s just mix emotions and hope something sticks.” Spoiler alert: Nothing sticks.
Let’s talk about the dialogue. Whoever wrote the script clearly had a love for “inspirational” one-liners. “You have to believe in yourself, even if the world doesn’t,” Dharundar dramatically declares at one point, right before walking into a scene that looks like it was shot with the world’s cheapest green screen. You almost want to stand up and start clapping, but then you remember you’re alone in your living room, watching a movie that’s somehow both over-acted and underwhelming at the same time. And speaking of acting… Ah, yes. The performances. If there was an award for “Best Overacting in a Film That Doesn’t Know It’s Overacting,” this movie would take home all the trophies. The lead actor seems to think he’s auditioning for a role in a soap opera, while the supporting cast looks like they were told to just “do their best” and “try not to look like they’re in pain.”
But don’t worry, it’s not just the lead actor. No, the entire ensemble cast is working overtime to make sure you’re aware that you’re watching a film. One character looks like they’re trying to remember their lines, another has what I can only describe as “permanent confusion” written all over their face, and let’s not even get started on the villain. This villain seems to have studied a “How to Be a Bad Guy 101” pamphlet and thought, “Nailed it.” From the stereotypical maniacal laughter to the “I will destroy you” monologues, the villain’s performance is an absolute gem, and by gem, I mean it’s like a sparkly rock you found on the side of the road that’s been stepped on a few times.
Okay, we have to talk about the action. If you were expecting mind-blowing fight scenes or high-octane chases, well, then you clearly don’t know what you’re in for. The action sequences in this movie are about as thrilling as a potato rolling down a hill. It’s not even like they’re badly choreographed—they’re just so hilariously anticlimactic that you can’t help but laugh. A scene that’s meant to be heart-pounding suspense ends with the hero basically throwing a punch that looks more like he’s gently asking the villain to consider changing his ways. It’s almost as if the fight coordinator’s primary directive was, “Do as little as possible but make it look like the fate of the world depends on this punch.” The final showdown? Well, let’s just say the action is so underwhelming, you’d have a better time watching paint dry. At least the paint is more invested in the process.
Visually, Dharundar is a masterpiece… of mistakes. The film’s cinematography is like someone discovered Instagram filters and thought, “Yes, this is exactly how we should make this film look!” A sunset? Let’s throw a purple tint over it. A dramatic close-up? Let’s make sure the actor’s face is so bright you can practically feel the glow from the screen blinding you. And don’t even get me started on the CGI. It looks like it was done by a student in their first week of film school. There’s a scene where the protagonist is supposed to be standing in front of an explosion, but the fireball in the background looks like something you’d see in an 8-bit video game. You know it’s bad when you’re watching a fireball and mentally calculating how much better your phone’s camera would have done.
Let’s move on to the soundtrack. Oh, the music. The composer clearly had one too many cups of coffee and thought, “Let’s put in a heart-pumping soundtrack for a scene where nothing is happening.” You’ll hear a dramatic orchestral buildup during the most mundane moments—like when the character takes a sip of water or ties his shoelaces. The music doesn’t know whether it’s building to an epic battle or an afternoon nap, and honestly, I’m not sure it cares. At one point, there’s a “slow motion” sequence with an intense piano and violin duet playing, and it’s the kind of sequence where you wonder if the director had a bet going on with someone about how much he could overdo the melodrama before someone noticed.
And then there’s the pacing. Ah yes, the pacing. The film moves at the speed of a snail on vacation. It’s as if someone decided, “Let’s make this film as long as possible, even if it means dragging out every scene until it loses all meaning.” The first 20 minutes? We’re watching someone walk across the street in slow motion. The next 45 minutes? A whole sequence dedicated to a character just standing and staring at a door. There’s so much filler in this film that you could probably carve out a good 45 minutes of solid content by removing all the unnecessary pauses and stares.
But don’t think I’m being entirely unfair here. There’s one thing that Dharundar nails perfectly: the unintentional comedy. If you ever wanted to experience a movie where you can laugh not because the jokes are funny, but because of how seriously it takes itself, this is your goldmine. The entire film is an unintentional parody of itself. The overblown drama, the nonsensical plot twists, the characters who feel like they were picked out of a random movie generator—it all culminates in a cinematic experience that is so ridiculously earnest, it circles back around to brilliance.
If you’re in the mood for a film that will make you laugh at the absurdity of it all, Dharundar has you covered. If you’re looking for a solid story or meaningful performances, well, you might want to try looking elsewhere—maybe under the couch cushions or in the next Netflix recommendation, because Dharundar is here for the laughs, whether it means to be or not.
In conclusion, Dharundar is a work of art, but only if art means a movie where every character, every line, and every plot twist is crafted with the precision of someone who just googled “how to make a film” and went with the first result. But hey, if you’ve got a couple of hours to waste and want to watch something that will make you laugh for all the wrong reasons, this is your ticket. It’s the film equivalent of a bad date: awkward, confusing, and full of weird moments that leave you wondering, “Did that just happen?”
