There’s a moment in Chhaava, late into its runtime, when Vicky Kaushal’s Chhatrapati Sambhaji Maharaj—bloodied, broken, yet unbowed—stands defiant before Akshay Khanna’s Aurangzeb, a man who, despite wielding all the power in the empire, seems dwarfed in spirit. It’s a moment that should shake the audience to its core. It’s rousing, it’s theatrical, it’s a moment built for the ages. But here’s the problem: it takes over two long hours to get there.
Much like Sardar Udham, another Vicky Kaushal biopic, Chhaava finds its throbbing pulse in its final act. But where Shoojit Sircar’s Sardar Udham was a masterclass in restraint and simmering rage, Laxman Utekar’s Chhaava leans on grandiosity without the depth to match it. The result? A visually striking yet emotionally uneven historical drama that, despite its authenticity and scale, struggles to transcend its echo chamber.
The Good, The Grand, and The Glaring Gaps
📜 The Believability Factor:
Utekar, working with a ₹130 crore budget, ensures that Chhaava is as authentic as it gets—historically, visually, and narratively. The battles are brutal, the costumes exquisite, and the period detailing on point. But believability is more than just accurate set design and military formations; it’s about making the characters feel like living, breathing humans, not just historical icons delivering dialogues meant for textbooks.
💔 Emotional Engagement (Or Lack Thereof):
The problem with Chhaava lies in its emotional flatline for the first two-thirds of the film. Despite its grandeur, the film struggles to engage on a human level. Yes, we see Sambhaji's valor, but do we feel his internal struggles? Do we connect with his love for Yesubai (Rashmika Mandanna) beyond surface-level dialogues? The film’s characters, from Divya Dutta’s Soirabhai to Diana Penty’s Zinat-un-Nissa Begum barely-there role, exist to serve history, not to inhabit it.
This is where Gandhi (1982) serves as a global benchmark. Ben Kingsley’s Mahatma Gandhi was not just an icon—he was a man. He wrestled with doubt, he felt fear, and he had personal internal and external conflicts. His humanity made his legacy all the more powerful. In contrast, Chhaava treats Sambhaji like a preordained hero, rarely allowing us to see the vulnerabilities that made his resilience so extraordinary.
🧠 Intellectual Depth:
History is never black and white, yet Chhaava leans heavily on a binary good vs. evil narrative. Aurangzeb, played by a terrific Akshaye Khanna, is menacing but underwritten. His motivations remain simplistic, and the film misses the opportunity to explore the ideological battle between two rulers with vastly different visions for India.
Compare this to Gandhi, which portrayed the British Raj not as caricatures but as a system of oppression enabled by human failings. Even Lord Mountbatten had nuance, something sorely missing in Chhaava’s treatment of Aurangzeb.
🌍 Relevance & Meaningful Impact:
A historical biopic should not just recount history—it should revitalize it for contemporary audiences. Gandhi was an Indian story told for a global audience, which is why it still resonates worldwide. Chhaava, however, plays squarely to the home crowd. There is little attempt to make the story travel beyond its intended audience, making it a film of the faithful, for the faithful.
Yes, it’s a celebration of Maratha valor, but if that story doesn’t connect beyond the believers, it remains a regional epic, not a universal masterpiece.
Chhaava (2024) – Rating Breakdown
Category | Rating (⭐ out of 5) | Remarks |
Believability | ⭐⭐⭐⭐☆ (4/5) | The historical authenticity, production design, and battle sequences are well-executed, making the film visually and narratively believable. However, the characters often feel larger-than-life rather than human, affecting immersion. |
Emotional Engagement | ⭐⭐⭐☆☆ (3/5) | The final act is powerful, but the first two hours lack the emotional depth needed to sustain engagement. Dialogues feel staged, and relationships (especially between Sambhaji and Yesubai) fail to deliver the emotional punch they should. |
Intellectual Depth | ⭐⭐☆☆☆ (2/5) | The film oversimplifies history, treating Aurangzeb as a one-dimensional villain and the Marathas as purely virtuous. There is no exploration of ideological conflict or the nuanced power struggles of the time. |
Relevance | ⭐⭐⭐☆ ☆ (3.5/5) | The story of Sambhaji Maharaj is deeply relevant in India, especially in Maharashtra, but the film does little to make the narrative accessible to a global audience. It appeals primarily to a regional and patriotic audience, limiting its broader impact. |
Meaningful Impact | ⭐⭐⭐☆☆ (3/5) | While Chhaava will resonate with Maratha history enthusiasts, it lacks the universal storytelling depth of a film like Gandhi. The film’s message is clear but lacks the power to provoke thought beyond its core audience. |
⭐ Final Average Rating: 3.1/5
A visually grand and passionate historical biopic that falls short in storytelling depth, emotional resonance, and global relevance. It celebrates history but doesn’t transcend it, keeping it firmly within the realm of patriotic spectacle rather than a timeless cinematic masterpiece. Watch for Vicky Kaushal, but don’t expect an epic beyond the action sequences.
🎬 What Indian Filmmakers Can Learn from a historic movie like Gandhi:
✅ Make historical icons human—let us see their doubts, vulnerabilities, and transformations.
✅ Emotional engagement must be felt throughout the arc, not just in high-stakes sequences.
✅ Nuance matters. History is never one-dimensional.
✅ A great historical film should not just inform—it should resonate across borders.
✅ Subtlety speaks louder than Screaming. Not every scene needs to be a proclamation.
So, Chhaava may roar, but until Indian cinema masters the art of making history deeply personal, universally relevant, and emotionally immersive, we will continue making spectacles instead of cinematic masterpieces.
Gladiator 2 - a Masterclass in Telling a Periodic Epic Story that Lands Globally
Gladiator 2 doesn’t just recreate history—it resurrects it with a storytelling craft that transcends time, culture, and geography. Unlike many historical films that merely aim for believability through grand visuals and period accuracy, Gladiator 2 wields emotional engagement and intellectual depth as its greatest weapons to forge a narrative that speaks universally. It doesn’t rely on sheer spectacle alone—it constructs a deeply personal yet thematically expansive story, where power, betrayal, vengeance, and fate collide in ways that feel both ancient and eerily contemporary. The film refuses to be a hollow tribute to an era gone by; instead, it interrogates the human condition, the cycles of power, and the cost of legacy, ensuring its relevance far beyond its historical setting. This is the difference between a film that tells history and one that transports its audience into a visceral, lived experience—where every sword strike, every whispered conspiracy, and every personal sacrifice echoes far beyond the screen. By grounding the epic in character-driven stakes rather than mere spectacle, Gladiator 2 ensures that its story is not just watched, but felt, debated, and remembered—a rare feat that elevates it from historical drama to timeless cinematic myth-making.
⚖️ Final Verdict – Roars Loud, But Falls Short on Real Storytelling Craft
Chhaava is not a bad film—far from it. It’s a massive step forward for Laxman Utekar, whose previous films (Luka Chuppi, Mimi, Zara Hatke Zara Bachke) were modest, middle-class dramedies. This is his first historical epic, and he proves he can handle scale, action, and intensity. But scale alone does not create an impact.
Much like Samrat Prithviraj, Chhaava suffers from a reverence for its subject that strips the characters of their humanity. It’s visually rich but emotionally distant, historically grand but storytelling-wise, underwhelming.
If you’re a history enthusiast or a die-hard fan of Maratha valiance, Chhaava will stir your soul. But, if you’re looking for a film that transcends its genre and audience—one that shakes up global cinema the way Gandhi did—this isn’t it.
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