Bade Miyan Chote Miyan review - Chaos reigns and logic fails in Akshay Kumar and Tiger Shroff's film

1/5

Colonel Azad (Ronit Roy) dispatches his top officer, Misha (Manushi Chhillar), to find two renowned members of his unit. This includes the sombre 'Bade Miyan' Firoz, aka Freddy (Akshay Kumar), and the brazen 'Chote Miyan' Rakesh, aka Rocky (Tiger Shroff). They are tasked with foiling a masked enemy, Kabir (Prithviraj Sukumaran), who has emerged from the nation and is ruthlessly attacking the military by taking its most lethal weapon. What follows is an action-packed, pulse-pounding film that showcases Bade-Chote's unparalleled bravery and camaraderie as the two work together to restore justice.

In a film that messes up some timeline, like it's passable bloopers, from the beginning, you know there are a lot of messes coming your way. Bade Miyan Chote Miyan feels like a film that was shot simultaneously with Pathaan and was released a year later for viewers to feel a sense of déjà vu while watching it. The film begins with the villain's entry, who is seeking to destroy India with his power and also has 'X' in their independent terrorist organisation's name. The Colonel then decides to bring back two of his court-martialed officers, 'Bade Miyan' Firoz, aka Freddy (Akshay Kumar), and 'Chote Miyan' Rakesh, aka Rocky (Tiger Shroff), to fight back the masked terrorist.

Why did I mention the timeline above? We travel back eight years to witness the heroes' arrival during a mission in Afghanistan known as 'Bade Miyan Chote Miyan'. If the film takes place in 2023–24, then we can travel back eight years to reach the year 2015–16. The jokes about "Netflix and Chill" and the incident where Akshay referred to Tiger as "deshdrohi" for playing PubG, however, suggest that Ali Abbas Zafar may have overlooked these details. Didn't it all happen in the last five years? But who cares about details, right? The makers didn't, so why should we?

But these glaring details come into your mind because all that's happening in the 2-hour and 44-minute film is action action action with a loud noise that might leave you deaf when there's immediate silence during the interval or when the movie ends. 

When a villain, such as the Batman villain Bane, dons a mask and transforms into Two-Face (Harvey Dent), we anticipate a predictable backstory and an intense emotional response. However, Zafar chose to adopt the Batman persona once more, naturally challenging Dent's dialogue for Kabir's character: "You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain." Please don't think in any way that these are praises for the makers; this is just me trying to make sense where they didn't get into the script.

This time, we've focused on the two heroes and the villain, who, as the film unfolds, have reconciled and transformed into their intended roles. Among them, however, are three women: Manushi's Captain Misha, despite the blood dripping from her forehead and lip, feels like a meta-human throughout the film, her entire body intact, even during action sequences. Alaya F plays Oxford nerd Pam, who channels her frustration over objectifying men and expressing her sexual desires in a way typical of a Gen-Z character. The other one is Sonakshi Sinha, who is mentioned as making a special appearance in the film, but she is definitely there throughout, like both Manushi and Alaya. This takes me back to the time when Kalank (2019) also credited her as a cameo.

Take it from me: once you start watching the film, the faces become so familiar in no time that all you want is to find some distraction. But no, the makers stick to the title and take up the trope from the original 1998 film. Did I give away too much already?

You know what the problem with Bade Miyan Chote Miyan is? It's existence. Yes, action films are popular, but how can they compensate for the fact that the story takes place not in the backseat but in the trunk of the car? As the film progressed, the sound intensity continued to escalate. Towards the end, it becomes so unbearable that I feel like the little girl from Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham, who asks, "Why is she shouting?" in a British accent when Kajol's character goes on a rant.

There are two-three moments in the film that did make me laugh in the ocean of the poorest jokes I have heard in a long time. One would definitely be Akshay recreating his iconic Phir Hera Pheri pose, and the other would be Tiger comparing a human fighting him to dandruff, which never goes away. Well, Tiger doesn't have iconic dialogue except "choti bacchi," so even that makes its way into the film. That's about it!

I don't know how I could survive the film because, until now, my brain is fogged and I am still reeling over what I watched last night?! Is it okay for makers to create anything and everything in the name of 'entertainment'? Is it okay to not have a story at all and pack a film with shock value that feels like the tasered shock that was seen in it? 

If the movie was unbearable, none of the performances helped elevate the non-existent script. Akshay and Tiger let their action sequences speak for themselves, and the close-up shots showed how they neglected to flex their facial muscles beyond their biceps. The same goes for the women, who do have parts mentioned but are not just there as eye candy. But in the name of the importance given to women, they forgot that it's ok if smokey eyes and winged eyeliners with a perfect finished-off make-up look can also be messed up if you're wearing the same outfit and travelling from one place to another and fighting men around you.

Prithviraj, who does have a face reveal in the film—well, it's not a spoiler—tries his hardest to fit the bill but doesn't succeed in doing so. Although the actor possesses exceptional talent, I believe the pitch he received did not allow him to showcase his full potential and instead acted in a similar manner as the rest of the cast. So did Ronit Roy, who delivered better than everyone else. 

Ali Abbas Zafar does have interesting films in his kitty, which we saw in the last couple of years, namely Jogi on Netflix and Bloody Daddy on JioCinema. However, when it comes to the big-screen experience, it lacks the charm that seemed to be present in both Tiger Zinda Hai (2017) and Bharat (2019).

But coming to Bade Miyan Chote Miyan, mounting an expensive film in the name of a popcorn entertainer... well, if they are delusional about thinking they have made a "great" film, how can we try to even seek a solution? Right? Right?

Bade Miyan Chote Miyan expertly manages its grand goals, resulting in a whirlwind of story disarray and sensory overload. The film's plot drowns in a haze of wasted chances, even though the star-studded cast tries to light the screen on fire with high-octane action. Not everything that glitters is gold, and in this case, Bade Miyan Chote Miyan tries to put together a spectacle but instead ends up piecing together a quilt of clichés and noisy fringe.