Hindi
RIP chocolate boys: Alpha men have taken over Indian cinema
MUMBAI: After the teaser of Toxic dropped yesterday, what had been simmering in Indian cinema for years suddenly became impossible to ignore. The winds of change don’t just blow anymore; they roar, usually through a cloud of cigarette smoke and a heavy bass background score. Step into a movie theatre today and you’ll notice the transformation instantly: the chocolate boy has been replaced by the charcoal man.
The era of the sensitive, sweater-clad lover singing in the Swiss Alps is currently on hiatus. In his place stands a bearded, brooding, and frequently blood-splattered protagonist who doesn’t just break hearts, he breaks bones.
Here is an exploration of how the bad boy reclaimed the Indian silver screen.
The spark: The surgeon with a scalpel and a scowl
While hyper-masculinity has always existed in pockets of Indian cinema, the current toxic macho wave found its modern patient zero in 2017 with the Telugu film Arjun Reddy.
Directed by Sandeep Reddy Vanga and starring Vijay Deverakonda, the film followed a brilliant but self-destructive surgeon with serious anger management issues. It wasn’t just a hit; it was a cultural earthquake. When the Hindi remake Kabir Singh (2019) arrived starring Shahid Kapoor, the tremors reached every corner of the country.
Before this, the industry was leaning toward woke or high-concept cinema. Kabir Singh changed the trajectory by grossing over Rs 370 crore worldwide. It proved that audiences were hungry for a flawed, aggressive, and deeply polarized protagonist.
The dominos fall: Who followed suit?
Once the box office spoke, the industry listened. Leading men who were previously known for their boy next door charm started hitting the gym and growing out their facial hair.
· The south Indian surge: Yash in the K.G.F. franchise turned the angry young man into a gold-mining god. Pushpa: The Rise saw Allu Arjun swap his stylish dancer persona for a rugged, sandalwood-smuggling anti-hero.
· The Hindi cinema pivot: Ranbir Kapoor, the poster child for the coming-of-age romantic hero, shocked the system with Animal (2023). Ranveer Singh took the villainous route early with Padmaavat, but the trend has now shifted toward making these grey characters the actual heroes we are meant to cheer for.
· The action Spectacle: Even the Khans jumped back into the fray. Shah Rukh Khan’s Pathaan and Jawan traded the dimpled smile for tactical gear and a high body count.
· The return of the OG: While younger stars redefined masculinity, the original blueprint roared back. Sunny Deol’s return as Tara Singh in Gadar 2 revived old-school machismo: rage, patriotism, and brute strength. Its Rs 691 crore global haul proved this wasn’t just a Gen Z fixation, but nostalgia for the raw, hand-pump-uprooting masculinity Deol made iconic.
The storm: Critics vs. the crowd
This trend has not arrived without a fight. The primary critique is the glorification of toxic masculinity.
Critics argue that these films validate problematic behaviors: stalking, domestic aggression, and a might is right worldview. When the protagonist in Animal asks his partner to prove her love through demeaning acts, or when Kabir Singh slaps his girlfriend, the internet divides into two warring camps.
Anupama Chopra gave Kabir Singh a scathing 2-star review, noting that the film’s celebration of a “flawed, deeply problematic” man was troubling. Similarly, Rajeev Masand labeled Kabir Singh as “unmistakably misogynistic.” When Animal arrived, the criticism intensified. Anna M.M. Vetticad described such portrayals as “insidious,” arguing that making a violent, self-destructive man look cool is deeply damaging to the social fabric.
The debate recently reached a fever pitch with the 2025 release Dhurandhar. Anupama Chopra, described the film as “exhausting, relentless, and frenzied,” fueled by “too much testosterone, shrill nationalism, and inflammatory anti-Pakistan narratives.” Her review sparked such a massive backlash from fans and industry veterans like Paresh Rawal (who publicly asked her, “Aren’t you tired of being Miss Irrelevant?”) that the video review was eventually made private.
Critics argue that these films validate problematic behaviors: stalking, domestic aggression, and a might is right worldview, the template for alpha behavior that is regressive. However, the filmmakers often argue that they are simply portraying complex characters and that cinema is a mirror, not a manual.
By the numbers: Rejection doesn’t hurt when you’re rich
The clearest takeaway from this wave is the growing disconnect between critics and the crowd. Films most attacked for toxicity often emerge as the biggest winners at the box office. K.G.F: Chapter 2 crossed Rs 1,200 crore despite mixed reviews, Animal stormed past Rs 900 crore amid intense backlash, while Pushpa: The Rise and Kabir Singh (both heavily criticised) still delivered massive returns.
The message is unmistakable: a large silent majority prioritises visceral spectacle over moral approval. That gap widened further in 2025 when Dhurandhar smashed records with a Rs 1,269 crore global haul.
And the pipeline for 2026 suggests that bad boys aren’t going anywhere. The most anticipated films are doubling down on this dark energy. The 2026 slate (O Romeo, Spirit, King, and Toxic) is doubling down on darker, more aggressive storytelling. For now, controversy isn’t a deterrent; it’s part of the business model.
Why is it working? The ghost of Amitabh Bachchan
The resurgence of the bad boy is not so much a brand-new invention as it is a high-octane haunting. In the 1970s, India’s collective psyche was captured by the Angry Young Man, personified by Amitabh Bachchan in classics like Zanjeer and Deewaar. Back then, the protagonist’s rage was a righteous response to a crumbling system, rising unemployment, and the betrayal of the post-independence dream. Today, that ghost has been summoned back to the screen, but his silhouette has changed. While the 70s hero fought the establishment outside, the modern macho hero is often fighting an establishment within himself, channeling a primal, more individualistic fury that resonates with an audience living in a hyper-competitive, digital age.
This modern iteration works because it offers a raw form of catharsis that the chocolate boy era simply cannot provide. In a world governed by corporate etiquette, social media policing, and the pressure to be woke, there is a rebellious thrill in watching a character who operates entirely outside the lines. Whether it is Arjun Reddy’s self-destruction or the unapologetic violence in Animal, these films serve as a pressure valve for a demographic that feels increasingly boxed in by societal expectations. The rugged aesthetic, defined by unkempt beards and a refusal to conform to traditional heroic manners, mirrors a global shift toward raw, unfiltered masculinity that prioritizes instinct over intellect.
Why the audience is hooked:
. Catharsis: In an increasingly regulated and polite world, watching a character who does whatever he wants is a form of escapism.
. The visual shift: The bearded look has become the definitive aesthetic of the decade. It signals a departure from the metrosexual look of the early 2000s.
. The mass factor: These films are designed for the big screen. They use loud music, slow-motion walks, and heavy dialogue that encourages whistling and cheering.
The chocolate boy might be resting in the cupboard for now, but if history tells us anything, the cycle will eventually turn again. For now, however, the bad boys are running the show, and they aren’t planning on apologizing for it.
Hindi
Remembering Gyan Sahay, the lens behind film, television and advertising
From a puppet rabbit selling poppadums to Hindi cinema, he framed it all.
MUMBAI: There are careers, and then there are canvases. Gyan Sahay, the veteran cinematographer, director, and producer who passed away on 10 March 2026 in Mumbai, had one of the latter. Over several decades in the Indian film and television industry, he turned lenses, lights, and the occasional puppet rabbit into something approaching art.
A graduate of the Film and Television Institute of India (FTII) in Pune, Sahay built his reputation as a director of photography across a career that stretched from the early 1970s all the way to the digital age. He was the kind of craftsman who understood that a well-composed shot is not merely a technical achievement but a quiet act of storytelling.
For most Indians of a certain age, however, Sahay will forever be the man behind the rabbit. His direction of the iconic long-running television commercial for Lijjat Papad, featuring its now-legendary puppet bunny, gave the country one of its most cheerfully persistent advertising images. It was the sort of work that sneaks into the national subconscious and takes up permanent residence.
His big-screen credits as cinematographer include Anokhi Pehchan (1972), Pagli (1974), Pas de Deux (1981), and Hum Farishte Nahin (1988). In 1999, he stepped behind a different kind of camera altogether, making his directorial debut with Sar Ankhon Par, a drama that featured Vikas Bhalla and Shruti Ulfat, with a cameo by Shah Rukh Khan for good measure.
On television, Sahay was particularly prized for his command of multi-camera production setups, a skill that made him a go-to technician for large-scale shows and reality programmes. In an industry that has never been especially patient with complexity, he was the calm hand on the rig.
In later life, Sahay turned teacher. He participated regularly in masterclasses and Digi-Talks, often hosted by organisations such as Bharatiya Chitra Sadhna, sharing hard-won wisdom on cinematography, the comedy of timing in a shot, and the sweeping changes brought by the shift from celluloid to digital. He was also said to have been involved in a project concerning a biographical film on Infosys co-founder N.R. Narayana Murthy.
Tributes from the film industry poured in following the news of his passing, with colleagues remembering him as a senior cameraman who served as a rare bridge between two entirely different eras of Indian cinema. That is, perhaps, the finest thing one can say of any craftsman: he kept up, and he brought others along with him.
