Dhadak 2 movie review: After Saiyaara, the passion in Triptii Dimri and Siddhant Chaturvedi’s feels performative

A small group sits outside their modest homes, exchanging stories. The conversation is calm, but the subject matter is grim — a group of starving people turning to cannibalism. One line jolts the viewer:
“Agar Dalit hota toh bach jaata, koi chhoota tak nahin.”
(If it was a Dalit, no one would have touched him.)

It’s a line heavy with meaning — encapsulating centuries of caste discrimination and the brutal resilience of India’s marginalized communities. Yet in Shazia Iqbal’s Dhadak 2, it lands like an afterthought. Just when it should hit hardest, the narrative moves on, leaving its full impact unabsorbed.

This dilemma defines the experience of Dhadak 2, a spiritual sequel to the 2018 Dhadak and an adaptation of Mari Selvaraj’s acclaimed Tamil film Pariyerum Perumal. The film aspires to emotional intensity and social commentary, and at times it nearly gets there. But its tendency to lean on speech-like monologues and cinematic gloss undercuts the rawness it reaches for.

Set in an unnamed city resembling Bhopal, a law college becomes the battleground for caste dynamics. Neelesh (Siddhant Chaturvedi), unable to even say his surname ‘Ahirwar’ aloud for fear of being outed as lower caste, studies alongside Vidhi (Triptii Dimri), who belongs to an upper-caste Brahmin family.

The contrast is clear and the film doesn’t shy away from showing poverty — cramped spaces, sanitation workers in the background, and Neelesh’s outburst about his environment. But these visuals often blur into the background, unlike the Tamil original, which stayed grounded in the lived experiences of its characters. Here, Dharma Productions opts for a polished lens — even hinting at brownface for Neelesh — which detracts from authenticity.

While a romance does bloom between Neelesh and Vidhi, it feels somewhat performative. The chemistry never quite ignites, especially when compared to the intensity of Saiyaara, where both actors sizzled on screen. Still, on their own, both actors deliver moments of compelling performance — with Dimri occasionally overshadowing Chaturvedi.

There’s a key scene where Vidhi acknowledges her privilege — a word the writers pointedly make her use — yet the film continues to tell rather than show. Neelesh’s journey from humiliation (he’s literally urinated on and covered in muck) to rage and resistance (his motto becomes “maaro ya maro”) should be heartbreaking, but the emotional payoff often gets lost in stylistic choices.

Verdict: Dhadak 2 is a well-intentioned film with flashes of brilliance, but it rarely lingers long enough to let the weight of its message sink in. It tries to blend social realism with Bollywood aesthetics, but in doing so, it often undermines its own emotional core.