Vicky Kaushal Roars in a Historical Epic That Stumbles Before It Soars
Released on Valentine’s Day 2025, Chhaava (meaning "lion cub" in Marathi) is a Hindi-language historical action drama that roared into theaters with high expectations. Directed by Laxman Utekar and produced by Dinesh Vijan under Maddock Films, this adaptation of Shivaji Sawant’s Marathi novel Chhava brings to life the saga of Chhatrapati Sambhaji Maharaj, the fiery son of Shivaji Maharaj. Starring Vicky Kaushal in the titular role, with Rashmika Mandanna as Yesubai and Akshaye Khanna as the menacing Aurangzeb, the film has grossed over ₹682 crore worldwide, making it the highest-grossing Hindi film of 2025 so far. But does its box-office might match its cinematic merit? After catching it in theaters, I’d say Chhaava is a mixed bag—a visual spectacle with a stellar Vicky Kaushal, yet a narrative that wavers between gripping and grating. As it gears up for its Netflix debut, here’s why it’s worth a watch, flaws and all.
The Plot: A Warrior’s Valor Meets Betrayal
Set between 1680 and 1689, Chhaava opens with the death of Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj, a seismic loss that emboldens Mughal emperor Aurangzeb to seize the Deccan. Enter Sambhaji (Vicky Kaushal), who ascends the Maratha throne with a vengeance, launching a daring raid on Burhanpur to thwart Mughal expansion. For nine years, he wages relentless guerilla warfare, winning 127 battles and cementing his legend as a fearless leader. Yet, his reign is marred by betrayal from within—culminating in his capture and brutal execution at Aurangzeb’s hands. The film frames Sambhaji as a lion cub stepping into his father’s roar, blending historical beats with Bollywood bravado.
The first half trudges through family dynamics and setup—Soyarabai (Divya Dutta) scheming, Yesubai supporting—while the second half erupts into a visceral showcase of war and sacrifice. The climax, a graphic torture sequence echoing The Passion of the Christ, is both its triumph and its excess, leaving you stunned but slightly numb. It’s a tale of defiance, but the script’s reverence sometimes overshadows its depth.
Performances: Vicky Kaushal’s Ferocious Triumph
Vicky Kaushal is Chhaava’s beating heart, delivering a career-defining performance that’s equal parts raw and regal. As Sambhaji, he’s a whirlwind—his battle cries ignite the screen, his monologues (like the improvised “Om Namah Parvati” speech) stir goosebumps, and his tortured defiance in the finale is haunting. Kaushal inhabits the warrior king with a ferocity that transcends the script’s limits, proving he’s Bollywood’s go-to for historical heft after Sam Bahadur. Akshaye Khanna’s Aurangzeb, draped in prosthetics and kohl, is a cold counterpoint—his understated menace cuts through the noise, though the film overplays his villainy with cartoonish kills.
Rashmika Mandanna’s Yesubai is earnest but underwritten, her expressive eyes doing heavy lifting where dialogue falters. Ashutosh Rana (Hambirrao Mohite) and Vineet Kumar Singh (Kavi Kalash) shine in support—Singh’s fiery retorts are a highlight—but Divya Dutta and Diana Penty (as Zinat-un-Nissa) are sidelined, their talent wasted in thin roles. The ensemble dazzles when it clicks, but the focus stays squarely on Kaushal’s roar.
Direction and Craft: Grand Vision, Uneven Execution
Laxman Utekar, known for smaller-scale hits like Mimi, scales up ambitiously here, and the results are striking yet inconsistent. Saurabh Goswami’s cinematography paints sweeping battlefields and moody forts with a painterly glow, while VFX from Assemblage and ReDefine deliver scale—think leaping warriors and a lion showdown—though some CGI feels patchy. A.R. Rahman’s score is a letdown; tracks like “Jaane Tu” jar with their modern vibe, and the BGM, while rousing, drowns out quieter moments. Editing by Manish Pradhan tightens in the second half, but the 161-minute runtime drags early on with redundant subplots.
Utekar’s direction excels in action—sugarcane-field ambushes and treetop assaults are inventive—but falters in pacing and nuance. The Ramayana parallels (Sambhaji as Ram, Aurangzeb as Ravana) feel forced, and the film’s loud patriotism occasionally tips into jingoism. It’s a grand canvas, but the brushstrokes lack finesse.
Themes: Patriotism and Sacrifice, Loudly Told
Chhaava is a love letter to Sambhaji’s legacy—his unyielding fight for Swarajya, his sacrifice for dharma. It’s less about historical precision (guerilla tactics get short shrift) and more about mythic heroics, framing Marathas as noble defenders against a Mughal menace. The betrayal angle—Sambhaji undone by his own—adds poignancy, but the film’s chest-thumping tone and graphic violence (nails ripped, eyes gouged) prioritize shock over emotion. It’s a rallying cry for pride, yet its noise sometimes muffles its soul.
Verdict: A Roaring Star Turn in a Flawed Epic
Chhaava is a cinematic paradox: a historical epic that’s both stirring and strenuous. Vicky Kaushal’s powerhouse act and the second half’s intensity make it a theatrical event—Maharashtra’s record-breaking ₹250 crore haul proves its regional pull. Yet, its sluggish start, overlong battles, and Rahman’s misfit music blunt its impact. It’s not the nuanced tribute Sambhaji deserves—too much growl, not enough depth—but it’s a bold swing that lands enough punches to linger. Critics are split (36% on Rotten Tomatoes), with some hailing Kaushal and others decrying its excess, but its ₹682 crore global take screams audience love.
As it preps for Netflix, Chhaava is best savored for its star and spectacle. It’s no Tanhaji or Bajirao Mastani—the storytelling lacks their polish—but it’s a worthy watch for Kaushal’s ferocity and a climax that’ll sear into memory. Grab popcorn, brace for gore, and let the lion cub roar.
Rating: 3.5/5
A flawed but ferocious ride—Vicky Kaushal alone makes it a blog-worthy binge when it hits OTT.
A flawed but ferocious ride—Vicky Kaushal alone makes it a blog-worthy binge when it hits OTT.