Chandigarh, August 1: The film opens with a divorce and a dhol band. From there, it only gets louder—and stranger. Son of Sardaar 2 doesn’t waste time trying to be clever or even coherent in the traditional sense. It simply marches to its own off-beat rhythm, and more often than not, that rhythm lands.
Ajay Devgn returns as Jassi, the bumbling but well-meaning man-child, whose wife (Neeru Bajwa) calls him to London only to ask for a divorce. Still hopelessly in love, Jassi has nowhere to go until he stumbles into a dhol performance led by Rabia (Mrunal Thakur). Her sister Saba is in love with a boy whose father, Raja (Ravi Kishen, in full-throttle mode), demands to meet her parents—who don’t exist anymore. Jassi, in a flash of comic desperation, pretends to be an army Colonel. Rabia plays along as the mother. You can guess where this is headed: a whole lot of confusion, fake accents, mistaken identities, and “breed” talk—Raja’s obsession with pedigree, both in animals and people.
Where many sequels lean lazily on past punchlines, Son of Sardaar 2 does its own thing. There’s no direct link to the first film, no callbacks, and thankfully, no obligation to watch the original to enjoy this. Writers Jagdeep Singh Sidhu and Mohit Jain keep the humour situational, light, and surprisingly tight in the first half. Once the characters fall into place, the absurdity begins to pay off.
The second half, however, loses its footing. A needless detour into narcotics and a few overstretched gags nearly derail the film. But it regains its footing with a quick, feel-good climax that doesn’t overstay its welcome.
Ajay Devgn plays it safe. He’s done this wide-eyed, slow-witted act before, but there’s enough warmth (and possibly Photoshop) in his performance to make it work again. The real MVP, though, is Ravi Kishen—equal parts hilarious and unhinged. He turns Raja into a character that could’ve easily been a caricature, but instead becomes the film’s most watchable presence.
Deepak Dobriyal is reliably funny, playing a man trying to transition into a woman without turning into a punchline himself. Mrunal Thakur has the sharpest comic timing among the female cast, and she uses it well. Roshni Walia is sincere, while Vindu Dara Singh and Mukul Dev do what’s needed of them: deliver laughs without effort. Kubbra Sait, unfortunately, gets sidelined.
Son of Sardaar 2 isn’t essential viewing. But it’s self-aware enough to never pretend otherwise. The writing isn’t stupid—it’s intentionally foolish. And the cast knows they’re inside a circus. Together, they make sure that the chaos is never boring.
This is not refined comedy. It’s theatrical, loud, exaggerated slapstick with just enough structure to keep it from falling apart. Surprisingly, that’s enough to earn a few claps.
Rating: ★★★☆☆ (3/5)
