
New Delhi, November 20, 2025: The war drama genre demands a difficult duality: the scale of national conflict and the intimacy of human sacrifice. Director [Director’s Name, fictional for this review, or left blank to focus on content] attempts to strike this balance with 120 Bahadur, a film based on the valor of the [Implied historical unit/setting]. Starring Farhan Akhtar in the lead role of Major Rudra Pratap Singh, the movie is undeniably noble in its intent, yet fundamentally flawed in its execution. It is a cinematic salute that, while deeply respectful, fails to deliver the visceral, lasting impact great war films achieve.
120 Bahadur arrives draped in high concept and patriotic fervor. The narrative follows Major Singh and his company during a critical, isolated mission against overwhelming odds. On a thematic level, the film succeeds in its primary objective: chronicling the sheer grit and moral clarity required to face certain doom. The visual language is austere, the sound design is appropriately heavy, and the production design ensures the viewer is fully immersed in the desolate, unforgiving environment of the front lines.
However, the film mistakes solemnity for substance. The screenplay, while meticulously detailing the strategy and logistics of the conflict, sacrifices emotional investment for historical reverence. We are constantly told that Major Singh’s men are brave and that their mission is crucial, but we rarely feel the stakes on a personal, agonizing level. The narrative progression feels less like a taut, unfolding drama and more like a dutiful reenactment, leaving the audience intellectually informed but emotionally detached.
Farhan Akhtar’s performance as Major Singh is the film’s anchor. He brings a compelling, restrained intensity to the role, conveying the crushing burden of leadership and the quiet resolve of a man committed to his duty above all else. Akhtar uses his gaze and subtle shifts in posture to communicate volumes about the psychological toll of war. He is the embodiment of the “bravery” the film sets out to celebrate, delivering a performance that is arguably among his most dedicated.
The tragedy, however, is that this strong central performance is underserved by a lack of substantial character development for the supporting cast. The 119 other soldiers mentioned in the title often dissolve into an indistinguishable mass of uniforms. Their backstories are brief, their camaraderie is superficial, and consequently, when tragedy strikes, the impact is minimized. The audience struggles to mourn individuals they barely know, which severely diminishes the collective emotional resonance of their sacrifice.
Technically, the film is polished. The cinematography captures the stark beauty and terror of the battlefield, utilizing a desaturated palette that emphasizes the grim reality of the setting. The action sequences are staged competently, but the directorial choices occasionally stumble. In moments demanding raw, chaotic realism, the film often defaults to excessive slow-motion and an overbearing musical score, attempting to manufacture emotion rather than letting the drama speak for itself. These flourishes often break the immersion, reminding the viewer they are watching a highly stylized drama rather than witnessing an unvarnished moment of truth.
The central conflict of the film is not the battle itself, but the battle for pacing. The first act is sluggish, dedicated to setting up the moral framework, while the final, climactic sequence feels rushed and surprisingly anticlimactic, failing to properly pay off the lengthy build-up.
120 Bahadur is a respectable, well-meaning film. It is a necessary reminder of the courage exhibited by our armed forces and a genuine tribute to the concept of selfless duty. For fans of Farhan Akhtar, his performance alone provides reason enough to watch.
Yet, as a piece of impactful cinema, it falls short. It is a meticulously constructed monument to heroism—polished, grand, and structurally sound—but ultimately, one that feels cold to the touch. The film earns our respect but fails to capture our hearts. It serves as a stark example of how a great concept and committed performance cannot salvage a screenplay that prioritizes reverence over dramatic necessity.