The Ba***ds of Bollywood Series Review: Aryan Khan’s riotous, wildly entertaining debut pulses with heart

The Ba***ds of Bollywood Series Review:

A charming young man from Delhi comes to Mumbai to make it big in films. He is not born with a silver spoon but has the swagger of a star already. He smokes cigarettes, is witty in interviews and his dimples are an absolute heart-winner on-screen. More than three decades later, he walks with an aura, speaks with a husky flair and his lookalike son spins an audacious spectacle on the industry that made him a star kid. Aryan Khan's The Ba***ds of Bollywood is a whacky first-coming that felt long overdue. He shows here what he has heard and seen throughout his life; he says what he has not been able to otherwise. Like his father in Jawan (2023), Aryan uses the screen to his advantage, engaging often in a sketchy, self-referential dialogue. As it goes, this is not just about the industry. This is about him. It is personal.

A moment early-on in the first episode brings back memories of the unsettling media trial that he was subjected to for partying on a cruise. The officer who arrested him in real-life is caricaturised into a Bollywood-hating, ‘Satyamev Jayate’ chanting feeble man, who is on a self-proclaimed mission to stop drug consumption. It is a moment of clear muscle-flex for Aryan; an answer to all the online hate in his style, at his home-turf. There is no effort to stay subtle, he goes all out. The treatment is flashy and over-the-top which is teased right in the opening credits, featuring a pumping track over comic book-like visuals. The pulpiness isn’t just for show, it defines the aesthetics.

Created and directed by: Aryan Khan

Co-created by: Bilal Siddiqi and Manav Chauhan

Writers: Aryan Khan, Bilal Siddiqi and Manav Chauhan

Starring: Bobby Deol, Lakshya, Raghav Juyal, Sahher Bambba, Anya Singh, Manoj Pahwa, Mona Singh, Vijayant Kohli, Manish Chaudhari, Rajat Bedi, and Gautami Kapoor

In a seamless intro scene, newcomer actor, Aasmaan Singh (Lakshya) is forced to do his own stunt after his body-double gets badly injured. Jumping across a heighted platform on a huge set with blue screens, Aasmaan is transported mid-motion into the post-VFX milieu of a post-apocalyptic setting. He makes an entry in a gangster’s den with a punchy one-liner, catches a bullet between his teeth and kicks it around to fatally hit the gang leader’s right eye. The moment soon shifts into a packed theatre, where Aasmaan hideously witnesses the crowd go berserk seeing the action-packed spectacle. His friend, Pervaiz (a compulsively funny Raghav Juyal) blows his cover and Aasmaan runs away only to get stopped by some gangsters outside, who take his case but the action hero cannot take a plunge here. The stakes are real and so is the gun which one of them dons.

The same gangsters later help him in getting a crucial signature of the abrasive, cigar-smoking producer, Freddy Sodawallah (Manish Chaudhari), who is barely dressed, getting a massage in a scene. Freddy’s escape plan involves putting on some oil on his body and sliding away on the wooden floor between the legs of a gangster. The show is a slick blend of such ridiculous take-offs, creating a language that wildly complements the slimy world of Bollywood. Aryan isn’t as geeky in his references as Farah Khan’s Om Shanti Om (2007) nor as probing in his outlook as Zoya Akhtar’s Luck By Chance (2009). Still, he instills his filmmaking with a meta-memory of actors. As we see Karan Johar for the first time at a party, ‘Koi Mil Gaya’ from Kuch Kuch Hota Hai (1998) plays in the background. Later, as Bobby Deol’s Ajay Talvar makes an entry on a set, the soundtrack briefly morphs into the memorable tune from Soldier (1998). Aryan even pumps the narrative with an old-school Bollywood setup: a middle-class hero with a rousing self-respect, a chirpy best friend, an ailing father and a caring mother. There’s action, romance, comedy and melodrama – all the makings of a masala potboiler served deliciously well.

There is space for all genre extensions; action meets spoof, emotions turn real as moments of laughter often get combined with tender ones of surprising vulnerability. A small scene involving Manoj Pahwa’s Avtar, a failed musician and singer, with Jaraj Saxena (Rajat Bedi), an out-of-work and forgotten actor, turns thoughtful as the latter advises Avtar not to lose hope after his newly created song is made fun of by rapper Badshah. Even the various cameos function smartly as a device to reciprocate the overall comical tone as we see Aamir Khan appearing in a joke on his widely mythologised perfectionism or when Karan Johar shoots nasty expletives over phone or the scene where Aasmaan’s manager chooses to work with him instead of taking an offer from a vape-smoking Ranbir Kapoor.

There is little dependability on star value and more belief in the craziness of the plot, which is aware not to become indulgent with the references as it stays centered on the motivations of Aasmaan and his growing animosity with Ajay. Lakshya is a good fit here as the ‘self-made’ star, as he balances the cockiness of Aasmaan with a touch of earnest everydayness. Bobby Deol is staunchly believable as the villainous superstar with his magnetic screen-presence. Sahher Bammba effectively manages to find the human behind her nepo-kid character. Raghav Juyal and Manoj Pahwa stand out for their smooth mix of the hilarious with the heartfelt. Joining them together is Aryan’s lively presence felt through the evocative scenes, rock-solid music choice and the authenticity with which everything is pulled-off. There are few dull moments, loopholes, none too many. It is a riot all along. The show feels like that one good thing Netflix has produced in a long time. It was Shah Rukh who revived the industry in the post-covid slump with three major releases in 2023. Aryan seems to take charge as he makes a profusely entertaining web-series debut. He doesn’t smile much, he is not on social media, he doesn’t give interviews. Cinema is his inheritance. His camera spreads arms to glory. Like father, like son.