Sikandar Review: Salman Khan’s masterclass on how to take your audience for granted

0.5/5

Sikandar Story: Sanjay Rajkot (Salman Khan), the King of Rajkot and the owner of 25 percent of India's gold, is living a life on a set in Film City (read: Rajkot). His wife, Saishri (Rashmika Mandanna), is his pillar (who believes in saying “Main unhe kuch nahi hone dungi” 20 times a day and then exits immediately). Sanjay has dedicated his life to working for the needy and building a syndicate that can kill people but also has a heart. So when he schools a spoiled politician’s son from Mumbai, he invites trouble, as the politician (Sathyaraj) now wants him—aka Sikandar, aka Rajasahab—dead. A tragedy takes away Saishri amidst all this, and her organs are scattered all over Mumbai via donation. Now Sikandar must keep the recipients alive because what else will a King do outside his set in Film City?  

Sikandar Review:

There are superstars who aspire to give back to the system and audience that gave them everything. Then, there are superstars who try to keep the audience entertained without thinking about the cinema ecosystem. And then comes the breed that continues to take their audience for granted—one film at a time—without learning from past mistakes, making monstrous money-fueled vehicles that feel like wasted resources from the word go, with no room for redemption. I do not have to be more elaborate to tell you what side of the spectrum the latest Salman Khan starrer Sikandar falls in.  

Salman Khan. AR Murugadoss. Rashmika, and 150 minutes of senseless foota ge that refuses to compile itself into a story; whether it qualifies as a film is a big question. Before we delve into details—or the lack of them—let’s revisit the Sikandar announcement. AR Murugadoss returns to Hindi cinema, unites with Salman Khan, gets Sajid Nadiadwala on board, and forms a perfect team. The announcement suggests a drama inspired by the history of Sikandar (Alexander the Great). It hints at depth. Cut to a year and a half later—the water is shallow and murky.  

Written by AR Murugadoss, Sikandar is a story about a man who has never taken a wrong breath, let alone a wrong action. He is the crowned prince of a city with a wife decades younger than him, whom he rescued and then married. Okay. The city worships his existence and would die for him. Okay. But why are we exactly watching his story unfold? Because he happened to be on a flight where a minister’s spoiled son was molesting a woman. So Sikandar schooled him mid-air while the air hostess gave a turbulence warning to the rest of the passengers.  

Sikandar is so lazy that even its peak moments make no sense. The screenplay is lethargic and amateur. Fifteen minutes in—after two senseless combats—a song is thrown at us. Because how else do you fill gaps in a script made of only gaps? Make the heroine dance and the hero move a little. Sikandar gets it all wrong with no intent to make anything right. Imagine 50 ads stitched together. The entire film is treated like an advertisement compilation, and the actors perform accordingly.  

Also Read: Stream Salman Khan's best performances ad-free with OTTplay Premium (Subscribe Now).

With Salman Khan on screen and a monstrous budget at hand, one would expect at least a compelling story, strong character arcs, and exciting showdowns from a director who made Ghajini. But nothing—and I repeat, nothing—in Sikandar makes sense, even remotely. It feels like the actors arrived on set, took a walk, and left. How else do you justify Salman Khan reading lines instead of acting? The lack of a story only highlights weak performances. But it is not just the actors at fault. The director, the producer, and everyone involved in approving this cut are equally responsible.  

While most films explore character depth, Sikandar only sees black and white. You are either Sikandar and his associates, or you are bad. There is no room for anything in between. And if you argue, Salman will read another dialogue from a giant board placed above the camera. Sikandar forgets it has to entertain and suddenly tries to tell ten different stories at the same time. The only lucky person here is Rashmika, who gets to walk out 40 minutes into the movie and avoid suffering through the remaining 110 minutes. Because there is no attempt to mend things, make them better, or at least make them digestible.  

AR Murugadoss seems stuck in time but was told to be inclusive and woke. So he ensures Rashmika is Salman’s savior, and Kajal Aggarwal’s character fights for her right to work. But then, there’s a scene where Sanjay feeds an entire basti of children and buys land behind their slum (because it is being used as a dumping ground and causing health issues), yet never thinks to relocate these people to better homes. Surely, a man who owns 25% of India’s gold could do that. But the illusion of wokeness fades when Rashmika is not even allowed to talk about her problems—she exists only to serve Sikandar. She literally repeats “Main Sikandar ko kuch nahi hone dungi” every two minutes. But hey, at least he is not an Animal, right?  

And Salman’s progressive dialogue, “I am man enough to accept my mistake”, does nothing for the cause, sir. Sikandar takes its audience for granted in more ways than one, and Salman Khan’s fans should be offended. They say Sikandar is famous—go Google him—but then how is no one outside Rajkot aware of his existence? Even the big politician has no clue. Saishri has been married to Sanjay for a while but discusses his name like they just met.  

The climax feels like the crew got tired of shooting and decided to stop on their most uninspired day. What else explains Sikandar killing the film’s big villain with a single punch that does not even look like one? Every death in Sikandar is unintentionally funny—even when it is not supposed to be. 

Salman Khan needs a hard reboot. Rashmika Mandanna needs better choices. AR Murugadoss needs a reminder of what filmmaking requires. And Sajid Nadiadwala? Maybe start investing in the right places. Sikandar leaves you with the frustration of being deceived by something that was supposed to impress you. Sets that look like sets and a film that feels like it was made under duress are not taking us anywhere. Also, do we really need to talk about how bad the music album is?  

Sikandar Review: Final Verdict

If Salman Khan reading from a giant board while squeezing his eyes is the level of dedication you crave, go for the AR Murugadoss directorial. Cinephiles deserve better. Fans deserve the best. If this is an Eid Bonanza, fans should demand more.  

Sikandar hits the big screen on March 30, 2025. Stay tuned to OTTplay for more updates from the world of streaming and films.  

Also read: Sikandar advance bookings now open but you'll never guess where Salman Khan's movie is working best