If James Bond traded his martini for paperwork, you’d get Arjun Mehta from The Diplomat. Directed by Ribhu Dasgupta, this Netflix original drops John Abraham into a messy geopolitical crisis where every handshake could hide a dagger.
The story kicks off when Mehta, India’s new ambassador to Azadistan, uncovers a conspiracy threatening to ignite a regional war.
Abraham’s stoic intensity fits the role perfectly, blending his action-hero grit with a quieter, calculating edge. Lara Dutta shines as a cynical journalist digging into his past, their chemistry crackling in scenes packed with verbal sparring. The film smartly avoids glorifying espionage, showing Mehta’s struggle to balance morality with messy realpolitik.
Shot across Rajasthan and Uzbekistan, the cinematography contrasts sun-scorched deserts with shadowy boardrooms, creating a tense, sweaty atmosphere.
A nighttime chase through a crowded Kabul-inspired bazaar stands out, blending chaotic crowds and tight close-ups. The score mixes traditional tabla rhythms with electronic beats, amplifying the story’s urgency without overpowering dialogues.
While the first half crackles with suspense, the plot stumbles slightly in the third act, rushing through key reveals. A subplot about Mehta’s estranged daughter feels undercooked, though it adds emotional weight to his choices.
The finale, set during a high-stakes UN summit, delivers satisfying payoffs but leans too hard on familiar spy-movie tropes.
Abraham’s fight scenes are brutal and brief, favoring realism over flashy stunts—a knife fight in a stalled elevator is brutally efficient. The script’s clever use of real-world tensions, like water disputes and drone warfare, grounds the story in believable stakes. Despite its flaws, The Diplomat offers a fresh take on espionage, where brains often outmuscle bullets.
Name: Kartik Aaryan Profession: Actor Born: November 22, 1990 in Gwalior, Madhya Pradesh, India Nationality: Indian Known for: Pyaar Ka Punchnama, Pyaar Ka Punchnama 2, Sonu Ke Titu Ki Sweety, Luka Chuppi, Bhool Bhulaiyaa 2
Biography: Kartik Aaryan, born Kartik Tiwari, is a rising Bollywood actor known for his energetic performances and relatable charm. Growing up in a middle-class family in Gwalior, he nurtured an early passion for cinema while pursuing his studies.
His debut in the 2011 film “Pyaar Ka Punchnama” struck a chord with audiences for its witty take on modern relationships and established him as a promising newcomer in Hindi cinema.
Following his successful debut, Kartik built on his reputation with films like “Pyaar Ka Punchnama 2” and “Sonu Ke Titu Ki Sweety,” where his impeccable comic timing and natural screen presence resonated with young viewers.
His role in “Luka Chuppi” further showcased his ability to capture the nuances of contemporary romance, while his performance in “Bhool Bhulaiyaa 2” (2022) demonstrated his versatility by blending humor with dramatic intensity.
Off-screen, Kartik is admired for his down-to-earth personality and his active engagement with fans on social media. His journey from a small-town boy to one of Bollywood’s emerging stars reflects his dedication to his craft and his continuous evolution as an actor in the modern landscape of Indian cinema.
Awards and Accolades:
Earned multiple nominations from Filmfare and other award ceremonies for his performances in romantic comedies.
Recognized as one of the most promising and bankable stars in contemporary Bollywood.
Interesting Facts:
Kartik Aaryan was born as Kartik Tiwari.
His breakthrough role in “Pyaar Ka Punchnama” made him a household name among young audiences.
He originally pursued a commerce degree before choosing a career in acting.
He is known for his engaging presence on social media and his strong connection with fans.
Ever felt like a time machine malfunctioned in the middle of a war scene? “Kesari Veer” tries to be an epic historical drama but ends up feeling like a jumbled history lesson from a malfunctioning DVD.
Set in the 14th century, the film recounts the tale of Veer Hamirji Gohil and his brave stand at the Somnath Temple. It hit theaters on March 14, 2025, carrying high hopes of cinematic grandeur.
The cast features Sooraj Pancholi as the determined warrior, Suniel Shetty as his steadfast ally, and Vivek Oberoi as the formidable antagonist. Despite these star names, their performances are undermined by the film’s glaring technical issues.
The CGI in “Kesari Veer” is disappointing, often resembling clumsy video game graphics rather than the polished visuals expected today. Grand battle scenes intended to awe viewers instead come off as poorly rendered and uninspiring.
The dialogues are equally problematic, sounding stilted and devoid of the emotional punch required for a war epic. Instead of stirring patriotism, the lines fall flat and fail to connect with the audience.
The storyline suffers from a lack of coherence, with many scenes feeling disjointed and out of place. Key moments that should evoke emotion are lost in awkward pacing and clumsy transitions.
Numerous sequences seem to be copied from other blockbuster films, stripping the narrative of originality. Familiar visuals reminiscent of other epics only highlight the film’s creative shortcomings.
Beyond CGI and dialogue, technical glitches disrupt the overall viewing experience. The editing and digital set designs contribute little to what should have been an immersive historical retelling.
The direction and screenplay fail to bring the historical narrative to life with the necessary finesse. Opportunities for engaging storytelling are squandered by a script that lacks clarity and conviction.
Audience reactions have been overwhelmingly negative, with many taking to social media to voice their disappointment. Viewers expected an epic experience but were met with a film that leaves them confused and underwhelmed.
When compared to other successful historical dramas, “Kesari Veer” falls short in both execution and impact. It struggles to match the engaging storytelling and visual brilliance of its peers.
Even the seasoned actors are hampered by clunky and uninspired dialogue that does little to showcase their talent. Their earnest efforts are drowned out by a script that never delivers the necessary emotional heft.
The overall cinematic experience is marred by a series of technical and creative missteps that detract from the film’s potential. What could have been an inspiring historical epic turns into a confusing mix of mismatched elements.
The film’s marketing set high expectations with impressive posters and teasers that hinted at grandeur and heroism. Unfortunately, the final product falls drastically short, leaving audiences feeling misled.
These shortcomings may have significant consequences at the box office as viewers grow more critical of quality. Critics and fans alike are likely to remember “Kesari Veer” for its glaring flaws rather than its intended heroism.
In the end, “Kesari Veer” serves as a reminder that a strong historical concept alone cannot save a film from poor execution. Its technical failures and weak writing turn what should have been an epic saga into a cautionary tale for filmmakers.
Name: Nayanthara Profession: Actress, model Born: 18 November 1984 in Bangalore, Karnataka, India Nationality: Indian Known for: Manassinakkare, Ayya, Raja Rani, Aramm, Netrikann
Biography: Nayanthara, born as Diana Mariam Kurian on 18 November 1984 in Bangalore, Karnataka, is a powerhouse of South Indian cinema, affectionately known as the “Lady Superstar.”
Beginning her career as a model, she made a striking debut in the Malayalam film “Manassinakkare” (2003), immediately captivating audiences with her natural charm and compelling screen presence. Transitioning seamlessly across Malayalam, Tamil, and Telugu film industries, she quickly established herself as one of the most bankable and influential actresses in South India.
Her breakthrough in Tamil cinema came with films like “Ayya” (2005), which paved the way for her to take on diverse roles that defied traditional female stereotypes. With her performance in “Raja Rani” (2013), she demonstrated a unique ability to balance commercial appeal with deep character portrayals, cementing her status as a versatile performer.
In films such as “Aramm” (2017), Nayanthara embraced roles that not only showcased her acting prowess but also addressed social issues, resonating deeply with audiences and critics alike.
Over nearly two decades, Nayanthara has collaborated with acclaimed directors and delivered a string of box office successes, earning her multiple awards and nominations, including recognitions from Filmfare and SIIMA.
Off-screen, she is celebrated for her elegance, humility, and philanthropic endeavors, maintaining a low-profile personal life despite her towering success. Her journey and influence continue to inspire a new generation of actors and filmmakers, solidifying her legacy in Indian cinema.
Awards and Accolades:
Multiple Filmfare Awards and SIIMA nominations for Best Actress
Recognized as one of the highest paid and most influential actresses in South Indian cinema
Interesting Facts:
Often hailed as the “Lady Superstar” for her commanding screen presence and consistent box office success
Known for selecting roles that challenge conventional female portrayals in Indian cinema
Despite immense fame, she leads a private personal life and engages in philanthropic work
Name: Tamannaah Bhatia Profession: Actress, Model, Dancer Born: December 21, 1989 in Bombay, Maharashtra, India Nationality: Indian Known for: Baahubali: The Beginning, Baahubali 2: The Conclusion, 100% Love, Paiyaa, Oopiri, F2: Fun and Frustration
Biography: Tamannaah Bhatia is a celebrated Indian actress whose dynamic career spans Telugu, Tamil, and Hindi cinema. Born in Bombay to a family with deep business roots, her father, Santosh Bhatia, is a diamond merchant and her mother, Rajani Bhatia, a homemaker, was introduced to the world of performance at a young age.
Attending the Maneckji Cooper Education Trust School in Mumbai and later pursuing a Bachelor of Arts through distance education at National College, Mumbai, Tamannaah began acting when she was just 13 years old.
She made her debut in 2005 with the Hindi film “Chand Sa Roshan Chehra” and soon ventured into regional cinema with the Telugu film “Sree” and the Tamil film “Kedi.”
Early roles in movies like “Happy Days” and “Kalloori” established her as a promising talent. Over the years, her performances have resonated with audiences across diverse film industries, with her breakthrough role as Avanthika in the epic “Baahubali” series cementing her status as one of South India’s most bankable stars.
Her varied filmography also includes popular titles such as “100% Love,” “Paiyaa,” “Oopiri,” and “F2: Fun and Frustration,” showcasing her versatility in both commercial and critically acclaimed projects.
Beyond acting, Tamannaah is known for her striking screen presence, graceful dancing, and modeling assignments. She has endorsed numerous high-profile brands and has ventured into entrepreneurship by launching her own jewellery brand, “Wite & Gold.”
Her ability to balance multiple facets of her career has earned her prestigious accolades including the Kalaimamani Award, the Dayawati Modi Global Award as Youth Icon of the Year, and an honorary doctorate from the Confederation of International Accreditation Commission for her contributions to Indian cinema.
With her commitment to her craft and entrepreneurial spirit, Tamannaah Bhatia continues to evolve as an artist and remains a prominent figure in the Indian entertainment industry.
Awards and Accolades:
Kalaimamani Award for excellence in art and literature (2010)
Dayawati Modi Global Award as Youth Icon of the Year (2017)
Honorary Doctorate from the Confederation of International Accreditation Commission (2017)
Multiple Filmfare Award nominations in Telugu and Tamil films
Interesting Facts:
Changed her screen name to “Tamannaah” for numerological reasons
Besides acting, she is an accomplished dancer and a successful entrepreneur with a strong brand endorsement portfolio
From Horror Series is engaging but can irritate you often
“From” is a horror series that grabs your attention with its eerie town and terrifying creatures, but after three seasons, I’m still left in the dark about the central mystery that keeps everyone trapped.
The slow drip of information keeps me hooked with its tantalizing hints, yet my patience is wearing thin as I wait for meaningful answers that never seem to arrive. With a fourth season on the horizon, I’m seriously questioning whether to stick around for more or cut my losses and move on to something less frustrating.
Why “From” Hooks You Right Away
“From” is a horror series that immediately hooks you with its unsettling atmosphere and high stakes that make every episode feel urgent. The show features a mysterious town you can’t escape, terrifying creatures that stalk the night, and relatable characters like Boyd, the determined sheriff who fights tooth and nail to protect the trapped residents.
From also shows how human beings organize themselves for survival
However, the core mystery—why this town traps people and unleashes monsters—remains frustratingly unsolved after three full seasons of twists and turns. At this point, it feels like the creators are toying with viewers, stringing us along without providing the satisfying answers we’ve been chasing since day one.
The show excels at building tension and delivering jump scares, with scenes that leave you clutching your blanket in suspense. Yet, the lack of progress in uncovering the town’s secrets makes it hard to stay invested, especially when the characters seem just as lost and confused as I am watching them.
I used to love the thrill of piecing together clues, like the strange symbols or the creepy radio transmissions, but now it feels like a never-ending puzzle with no solution in sight. The constant teasing of revelations that never materialize has turned my initial excitement into a growing sense of exasperation that’s tough to shake.
The Good stuff that keeps me watching
The performances are a highlight, particularly Harold Perrineau as Boyd, who brings depth and intensity to his role as the town’s beleaguered leader. His struggle to maintain hope while grappling with his own fears and doubts adds a layer of emotional resonance that makes the horror hit even harder.
The creature design is also impressive, with monsters that are genuinely frightening and creatively conceived, like the grinning ghouls that mimic human voices to lure victims. The show’s visual style, from the foggy, claustrophobic forests to the dilapidated buildings, enhances the sense of dread and isolation that permeates every frame.
But even these strengths can’t fully compensate for the narrative stagnation that’s starting to define the series. The show’s reluctance to provide substantive answers makes it feel like it’s prioritizing suspense over storytelling, leaving me wanting more than just cheap thrills.
The characters’ repeated attempts to solve the mystery are relatable, as they mirror my own frustration with the lack of clarity after so many episodes. Yet, their lack of progress—whether it’s decoding the talismans or figuring out the town’s rules—only amplifies the sense that the show is spinning its wheels with no end in sight.
Where it starts to fall apart
The third season introduced new elements, like the concept of reincarnation and a mysterious figure known as the Man in Yellow, which piqued my interest all over again. While these additions are intriguing and hint at a bigger picture, they also raise more questions without resolving existing ones, further complicating an already convoluted plot that’s tough to follow.
The show’s pacing is a double-edged sword: it builds suspense effectively with long, tense silences, but it also tests the viewer’s endurance by dragging out the story unnecessarily. After 30 episodes, the slow burn has become a slow crawl, and I’m not sure how much longer I can hold on without some kind of payoff.
The announcement of a fourth season has left me torn between curiosity and skepticism. On one hand, I’m eager to see if the show will finally deliver the answers I’ve been waiting for; on the other, I’m wary of investing more time only to be disappointed again by another season of vague hints.
Perhaps the show is aiming for a long-term payoff that ties everything together brilliantly, but I worry that by the time the mystery is revealed, I won’t care anymore. The risk of narrative fatigue is real, and I don’t want to be one of those viewers who sticks around out of obligation rather than genuine interest in the outcome.
Some fans argue that the journey is more important than the destination, praising the show’s strength in its atmosphere and character development over plot resolution. While I appreciate the moody vibes and complex characters, I still believe that a satisfying resolution is crucial to making the journey worthwhile and not just a waste of time.
Others might enjoy the endless speculation and theorizing, diving into online forums to dissect every detail like the meaning of the crows or the origin of the monsters. But I’ve reached a point where I need more than just breadcrumbs—I want to see the characters make meaningful progress, not just react to the latest supernatural occurrence with wide-eyed panic.
Ultimately, my decision to continue watching will depend on whether the show can strike a better balance between mystery and revelation in the next season. If the fourth season promises to accelerate the pace and provide some closure—like explaining the town’s purpose—I might give it a chance; otherwise, I may have to bid farewell to “From” for good.
It’s a shame because the show has so much potential, with its talented cast, chilling visuals, and a unique premise that could set it apart from other horror series. If only the creators would trust their audience enough to share more of the story, “From” could be a standout hit instead of a frustrating tease.
Final thoughts on “From”
“From” is a horror series that excels in creating a tense and eerie atmosphere, but its refusal to reveal its central mystery after three seasons is a significant drawback that’s hard to overlook. The strong performances, like Catalina Sandino Moreno’s desperate Tabitha, and creative creature design are commendable, yet the lack of narrative progress makes it difficult to remain engaged week after week.
The show’s slow pacing and reluctance to provide answers may appeal to viewers who love ambiguity, but for me, it’s a frustrating experience that has me considering whether to continue watching. With a fourth season on the way, I hope the creators will address these concerns and deliver the revelations that fans like me have been patiently—or impatiently—waiting for.
In the end, “From” is a mixed bag: it’s gripping and well-crafted, but its unwillingness to move the story forward is a major flaw that overshadows its strengths. I’m left with a tough decision—stick around and hope for the best, or walk away and preserve my sanity before I get too burnt out.
For now, I’ll keep an eye on reviews and fan reactions when the fourth season arrives to gauge if it’s worth my time. Maybe the show will surprise me and make the wait worthwhile, but I’m not holding my breath after three seasons of dangling carrots.
Born: March 16, 1963 in Bromley, Kent, England, UK
Nationality: British
Known for: Game of Thrones, Soldier Soldier, Ripper Street, Robson & Jerome
Biography:
Jerome Patrick Flynn is a British actor and singer born on March 16, 1963 in Bromley, Kent. Growing up in a family immersed in the performing arts, his father being actor Eric Flynn and his mother a drama teacher, he developed a passion for acting early on, alongside his siblings.
He rose to prominence as Corporal Paddy Garvey in the ITV series Soldier Soldier, a role that unexpectedly paved the way for a successful music career as part of the duo Robson & Jerome. Their rendition of “Unchained Melody” topped the UK charts for seven weeks in the mid-1990s, marking one of the era’s most iconic musical successes.
Flynn later captivated international audiences with his portrayal of the roguish Bronn in HBO’s Game of Thrones and as Detective Sergeant Bennet Drake in BBC’s Ripper Street. A committed vegetarian since the age of 18, he also maintains a deep connection to nature, a value reflected in both his personal life and diverse career across television, film, and music.
Awards and Accolades:
British Academy Television Award nomination for Best Supporting Actor (Ripper Street)
Screen Actors Guild Award nominations as part of the Game of Thrones ensemble
Interesting Facts:
Flynn’s leap from television acting to chart-topping music with Robson & Jerome remains one of the UK’s most memorable entertainment success stories.
His unconventional audition, featuring a distinctive rough look, helped secure his role as Bronn in Game of Thrones.
Bollywood’s historical dramas often feel like superhero movies, where heroes slay cartoonish villains and history gets a shiny makeover. Films like Chaava and Tanhaji paint Maratha leaders as flawless saviors, while Mughal rulers are reduced to snarling tyrants. This one-sided storytelling feeds into modern politics but skips the messy parts—like how Maratha raids in Bengal killed 400,000 civilians.
Raghoji Bhonsle’s campaigns weren’t just battles; they were economic warfare. His cavalry, called Bargis, burned crops, drowned villagers, and even ransacked Murshidabad, the capital. A chilling lullaby from that era still echoes in Bengal: “When the children sleep, the Bargis come…”
Movies love valiant last stands, but what about invasions built on terror? The Bargis didn’t just fight soldiers—they extorted farmers, destroyed silk weavers’ looms, and left survivors with PTSD. Imagine a film showing villagers hiding garlic seeds to delay tax payments, as the lullaby describes. Would audiences cheer for that hero?
Maratha invasion of Bengal
Bollywood’s formula demands a clear hero and villain, but history is a foggy mirror. Alivardi Khan, the Nawab of Bengal, wasn’t a saint—he crushed rebellions brutally—but his fight against the Marathas was about survival. If filmmakers humanize both sides, will nationalists call it “anti-Hindu”?
The 1741–1751 Maratha invasions weren’t quick raids; they were a decade of trauma. Gangaram’s Maharashtra Purana details how the Bargis drowned people, stuffed noses with water, and massacred entire families. Yet, this isn’t taught in Maharashtra’s schools—or shown on screen.
Raghoji’s story has everything Bollywood adores: battles, political drama, and a flawed protagonist. But it also forces uncomfortable questions. Why did he spare Calcutta? Rumors say the British bribed him, but there’s no proof. Would filmmakers dare suggest Maratha leaders took payoffs?
British-Maratha Alliance
Even the treaty ending the wars feels like a hidden chapter. The Nawab of Bengal paid ₹3.2 million in back taxes and ₹1.2 million annually to keep the Bargis away. That’s not a triumph—it’s extortion. Yet, Maratha textbooks frame this as a “victory.”
Bollywood thrives on jingoism, but real courage lies in showing the truth. A scene where Raghoji’s soldiers torch a temple while chanting “Har Har Mahadev” would shatter the myth of religious unity. Will any director risk that backlash?
Films like Padmaavat and Bajirao Mastani prove Bollywood can handle complexity, but only when villains are foreign or “Islamic.” Portraying Hindu kings as oppressors is taboo. Raghoji’s story challenges the “Hindu victimhood” narrative—so will it ever get greenlit?
Both Padmavat & Bajirao Mastani showed valor of Rajputs & Marathas but were stilled boycotted
The British filled history books with bias, but modern filmmakers repeat their mistakes. The Bargi lullaby is folklore, not a plot point. Imagine a movie where the hero’s theme song is a mother’s lament—would it sell tickets?
Even if a director tried, censorship might gut the story. The Central Board of Film Certification routinely edits “divisive” content. Showing Maratha atrocities could be labeled “anti-national,” much like Panipat faced protests for “disrespecting” Shivaji.
Audiences aren’t innocent either. We clap when Tanhaji kills 100 men solo but look away when history gets grim. Until viewers demand honesty, filmmakers will keep selling fairy tales.
