Even Earnest Rajkummar Rao Can’t Fully Rescue This Formulaic Gangster Drama. Pulkit’s Maalik is a gritty, stylish gangster saga that boasts Rajkummar Rao in top form, but ultimately sticks too closely to genre clichés to break new cinematic ground. Arnab Banerjee gives it 2 stars.

Pulkit's Maalik, starring Rajkummar Rao, Prosenjit Chatterjee, and Manushi Chillar, is a Hindi gangster drama set in late-80s Allahabad. Combining caste-based angst, political corruption, and stylish violence, the film tracks the rise of a humble farmer’s son into a fearsome crime lord. While Rao’s transformation and performance elevate the story, the film struggles to push beyond genre conventions. Backed by a strong supporting cast and impressive cinematography by Anuj Rakesh Dhawan, Maalik offers enough grit and ambition to satisfy fans of Indian crime sagas, though it falls short of redefining the gangster narrative.

Director: Pulkit
Cast: Rajkummar Rao, Prosenjit Chatterjee, Manushi Chillar, Saurabh Shukla, Anshumaan Pushkar, Saurabh Sachdeva, Swanand Kirkire, Rajendra Gupta
Cinematography: Anuj Rakesh Dhawan
Music: Sachin-Jigar
Rating: 2 stars  

Another gangster film, you ask? Yawn… stretch… cue eye-roll? Well, hold that sigh! Because Maalik isn’t just another entry in the long line of blood-splattered, dialogue-heavy desi crime sagas. This time, it's Rajkummar Rao—yes, our usually understated poster boy for indie angst—getting absolutely ripped and unleashing his inner baddie, all while juggling social commentary like it’s part of a gym circuit.

Directed by Pulkit, Maalik is set in Allahabad, in the turbulent years between 1988 and 1990—a time when moustaches were thick, tempers were thicker, and justice was mostly served with a hockey stick. Rao plays Deepak, a humble farmer’s son whose slide into the underworld is triggered by the usual recipe: a cocktail of caste-based humiliation, wounded family pride, and a healthy dose of "Why should I till the land when I can rule it instead?"

Deepak teams up with his college buddy Badauna (played by Anshumaan Pushkar, who brings intense "loyal right-hand man" energy), and together they form a gang so fearsome that the local cops treat them like haunted houses: avoid at all costs. One particularly unlucky officer gets so thoroughly owned, he ends up licking his own spit. No, really.

From here on, the film revs up into full gangster mode—cue gunfights, dramatic betrayals, slo-mo walkouts, and more revenge than a Shakespearean tragedy dipped in red ink. Deepak, now fully transformed into a crime boss with abs of steel and a heart of stone, goes after corrupt politicians (Saurabh Shukla and Swanand Kirkire), suspended cops (Prosenjit Chatterjee), and assorted enemies (including Saurabh Sachdeva, presumably playing “man with grim face and darker intentions”).

Doesn’t go beyond the predictable

But here’s the rub: for all the muscle, mayhem, and machismo, Maalik doesn’t exactly reinvent the wheel. Deepak’s journey—from athletic idealist to bullet-dodging, mythic gangster—is well-trodden territory. And while there are sparks of style, director Pulkit and co-writer Jyotsana Nath seem mostly content painting within the lines of gangster cinema 101.

Rajkummar delivers

Rajkummar Rao delivers a committed, muscular performance, both physically and emotionally. His portrayal of Deepak adds nuance to a character that could have easily become a genre cliché. Rao’s transformation—from quiet resentment to explosive dominance—anchors the film. Anshumaan Pushkar provides strong support as the ever-faithful Badauna, bringing both warmth and ruthlessness to his role.

Pulkit’s direction emphasizes scale and style—slow-motion shots, stylized action, and heavy atmosphere abound. The film is visually ambitious and often arresting, but the script, co-written with Jyotsana Nath, doesn't always match that ambition. While Maalik hints at deeper themes—class oppression, caste conflict, and the moral decay of ambition—it mostly sticks to the familiar beats of the gangster genre.

Veterans like Saurabh Shukla and Swanand Kirkire shine in their roles as corrupt, morally bankrupt politicians. Prosenjit Chatterjee, as a disgraced cop, lends a brooding gravitas, while Saurabh Sachdeva appears briefly but effectively in the role of a rival gang member.

Cinematography & Sound

The cinematography captures the dust, tension, and blood-soaked chaos of small-town North India with a gritty authenticity. The music and sound design amp up the drama, though at times the background score overpowers quieter emotional moments. Cinematographer Anuj Rakesh Dhawan and editor Zubin Sheikh are first-rate and lend the film the right mix of quality, visual appeal and drama.

One wishes there were more screen time for lead female actor Manushi Chillar, whose character's marriage quietly unravels under the weight of her husband’s obsession with power and violence. She delivers a convincing performance as a woman caught between love and disillusionment—deeply cherished by her gangster husband, yet increasingly sidelined by the life he chooses.  

Gritty and Ambitious

Maalik is a gritty, ambitious film that reaffirms the enduring appeal of gangster dramas, especially those rooted in the Hindi heartland. While it doesn't quite break new ground, it’s held together by a compelling lead performance and a solid supporting cast. For fans of the genre, it delivers everything expected: power struggles, brooding antiheroes, moral ambiguity, and unflinching violence.

If you’re looking for a reinvention of the crime saga, Maalik may fall short. But if you’re in the mood for a three-hour descent into blood, betrayal, and the high cost of ambition—Rajkummar Rao is reason enough to watch. And, if you like your films served with a side of righteous rage, desi dust, and slow-motion swagger, Maalik might just be your guilty pleasure of the month. Just don’t expect it to rewrite the gangster gospel.

The film could have benefited from more introspection. What does it truly mean to become a gangster in a society built on inequality? How does one reconcile personal pain with public violence? These questions linger at the edges but are never fully confronted.