There is a strange kind of thrill in the air when a film sneaks up on everyone. Not the splashy ones with noisy marketing, but the quiet predators that move through the country’s conversations before the critics have even agreed on their adjectives. Dhurandhar arrived exactly like that. One minute it was just another December release, the next it had slipped into IMDb’s Top 250 Indian films and nudged past Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara, a movie people still carry around like a postcard from a younger self.
I remember glancing at my phone the morning the ranking update broke, reading it twice because it felt almost mischievous. Dhurandhar, barely a week old, sitting somewhere in the mid thirties with an 8.4 rating. That number had a kind of clean confidence to it, as if the audience had already made up its mind before the industry finished clearing its throat.
Ranveer Singh is at the center of all this, but not in the usual neon way he often is. There is something tightened about him in this film, something that hums under the surface instead of bursting into the room. It almost throws you off at first. You expect the flamboyance, he gives you something closer to a controlled burn. Maybe that restraint is what people were craving without knowing it. A star who does not announce his presence for once, just grips the story and holds it steady.
Aditya Dhar’s direction has that same steady pulse. Nothing flaps around, nothing shows off. The film is built with the kind of confidence that does not need to pose. You feel it in the edges of the scenes, the clipped urgency of the spy world he creates, the way the camera seems to trust the actors rather than choreograph them. For an action thriller, it has a surprisingly grounded temperature, like someone wiped the genre clean and started again.
Then there is the ghost of Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara hovering in the background. That film is sunlight for most people my age. A warm, sand scented memory of Spain and friendship and the feeling that life might just reward you if you loosened your jaw a little. It has lived in people’s personal mythologies for fourteen years. To watch anything step in front of it, even briefly, feels like catching your childhood crush sitting at the bar with someone new. Not betrayal exactly, just a tiny shift in the earth.
But here is the thing. Dhurandhar is speaking to a different kind of India. One that wakes up with too much news in its bloodstream, that wants stories reflecting the tension we breathe every day. There is less patience now for dreamy wanderings. People want precision. They want plots that move with intent. They want characters who sweat under pressure instead of gazing into the middle distance. The film hits that nerve exactly. It moves fast without stumbling, and the audience seems to be rewarding that clarity.
The moment Koimoi confirmed its entry into the Top 250 list, the online chatter crackled instantly. Fans cheering, skeptics poking holes, a few cinephiles doing that dramatic sigh they reserve for moments when they believe the world has lost its taste. I watched it unfold like a street performance. Arguments rising, dissolving, flaring again. This is what Indian cinema does to us. It makes us protective, territorial, overexcited, nostalgic, sometimes all before lunch.
Truth is, nobody knows where Dhurandhar will sit a month from now. IMDb is a moving tide. A rating today is simply the heat of the current moment, not a lifetime achievement medal. Films climb, films slip, films resurface years later when someone on the internet decides to champion them at two in the morning. That unpredictability is half the charm. A ranking is just an echo of the mood, not the full story.
Still, something about this climb feels significant. Maybe because it marks a shift in what the mainstream wants. Maybe because Ranveer Singh, after a few uneven years, seems to have found a new rhythm that fits him better than the louder personas did. Or maybe it is just one of those beautifully unpredictable turns the film world gives us from time to time, a reminder that no formula can fully contain audience emotion.
As for Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara, nothing can unwrite the way that film has woven itself into people’s private histories. It will always live in group trip fantasies and late night confessions and Instagram captions written near beaches. A ranking does not erase a feeling. It never has.
For now, Dhurandhar stands tall, a newcomer with sharp elbows and unexpected elegance, and people are watching it with the curiosity usually reserved for long awaited blockbusters. It is rare to witness a film rise this quickly without noise guiding the way. Rarer still to see it done with this kind of sleek confidence.
Maybe that is why it struck a chord. It did not chase applause. It simply arrived, and the audience decided it deserved the light.
Stay updated with the latest in fashion, lifestyle, and celebrity stories—straight from the world of Debonair. Follow us on Instagram, X (Twitter), Facebook, Youtube, and Linkedin for daily style and culture drops.
Zayn blends critical thinking with genuine fandom. Whether it’s decoding OTT series arcs or rating the latest Bollywood blockbuster, he writes with clarity, pop fluency, and a dash of irreverence.
