In The Ba***ds of Bollywood, Karan Johar—playing himself—advises framing an actor’s exit from Dharma Productions as the company’s decision rather than the star’s. Coincidentally, Aryan Khan’s directorial debut arrived on Netflix the very day news broke of Deepika Padukone’s departure from the Kalki 2898 AD sequel, with the production house citing lack of commitment.
The timing was odd. Only those directly involved know the real story behind Deepika’s exit. Two days later, she responded with a photograph of her holding Shah Rukh Khan’s hand—a signal of returning to collaborations with her first co-star. It was reassuring.
Aryan Khan’s seven-episode series has its heart firmly with outsiders, underdogs, and the overlooked. The extras, the others, once-celebrated figures—those who slipped through the cracks due to poor timing or wrong turns—step into the spotlight. It is a world where Bobby Deol, as the seasoned superstar Ajay, gets more attention than Aryan’s own father—Shah Rukh Khan. It is also where Lakshya, playing Aasmaan, a newcomer, becomes the industry’s instant hot property.
Bobby and Lakshya share an interesting parallel. Bobby’s big-screen resurgence—his ‘second coming’—happened the same year Lakshya found his breakthrough moment: Animal for Bobby; Kill for Lakshya (oddly enough, both films drenched in blood). Bobby and Lakshya lock horns a few times, but here, it is the expletives rather than fists that do the real damage. It is R-rated, yes, but nowhere near Sacred Games.
While watching The Ba***ds of Bollywood, I was reminded of the brilliant Malayalam film, Udayananu Tharam (Udayan is the Star), also set in the film industry. There, Mohanlal played Udayan, an aspiring filmmaker struggling to get his big break, while Sreenivasan, who once played the superstar’s comic sidekick, was cast as a junior artiste who turns superstar after stealing Udayan’s script. But that’s just half of the story. It will take a few twists and turns for Udayan to finally get his due. In The Ba***ds of Bollywood, too, we find similarly manipulative characters and a few wild and cinematic scenarios.
Written by Aryan, Bilal Siddiqi and Manav Chauhan, The Ba***ds of Bollywood (title choice explained in the finale) doesn’t quite scream “masterpiece” but it isn’t, admirably, desperate for that label either. It just wants to deliver something... fun. And it is a cut above most of Bollywood’s formulaic offerings.
By now, social media is awash with screenshots pointing to the show’s parallels to real-life events—Aryan’s 2021 arrest in a drug case being one. In one scene, an officer on a raid rants cheesy lines, which some viewers felt was Aryan’s way of exorcising old demons. Even funnier is the scene where Rajat Bedi, playing a “forgotten actor”, begs to be arrested while “Bollywood people” are being rounded up and is left behind. Elsewhere, a producer pushes PR to float rumours of a romance between his lead actors to cash in on their onscreen chemistry. The parallels are obvious for anyone who has studied the industry closely.
In a way, Aryan did for Bedi what Quentin Tarantino once did for Robert Forster, Pam Grier, John Travolta and David Carradine—reminding us that these are talents with immense potential, but grossly under-utilised. While doing so, he also humanises them, showing they are no demigods, and that they occasionally fall prey to the same emotions that torment their fans.
Aryan’s storytelling sensibilities run the gamut from Robert Rodriguez to Vasan Bala. It also speaks to the 1990s kids raised on Mohra, Main Khiladi Tu Anari, Barsaat, Raja, Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge... all while putting a fresh spin on familiar narratives. Some characters’ presence—like Ajay’s extremely annoying son—is better explained by their action in the final episode, and you begin to think of them in a new light. The same applies to the motivations of the main villain.
It was only recently that we saw an assortment of Hollywood actors and filmmakers boldly cracking jokes about their own industry in Apple’s The Studio, a show featuring big-name cameos, such as Martin Scorsese and Ron Howard, playing themselves as vulnerable individuals with relatable shortcomings. The Ba***ds of Bollywood, too, ventures into similar territory, most notably in the episode where one Badshah is mistaken for another, leading to a temporary suspension of the OG’s self-esteem.
If one were to evaluate the effectiveness of the meta and satirical aspects, The Ba***ds of Bollywood may not reach the heights of Om Shanti Om, An Action Hero, The Studio or Udayananu Tharam, but it is impressive, regardless.
One thing is certain: Aryan loves cinema. His love for the medium comes through in every episode—even when not every punchline lands. What’s clear is this: a promising filmmaker has arrived.
This review was written while listening to ‘Duniya Haseeno Ka Mela’ (from Lord Bobby’s Gupt) on loop. Thank you, Aryan, for briefly taking me back to the 1990s.