The first few minutes of Sikandar fool you into believing that you might actually get something more than the low bar you have set for brand Salman Khan. Crawls creep under the skin—as is clearly the intention. You even admire Prateik Babbar for setting the tone, even as you want his character to be out of sight as soon as possible. And then Salman Khan enters. Logic and creativity leave, never to return.

Of the top ten members of the cast in terms of screen-time, Prateik Babbar was the most effective.

I know, one is not to expect that from a film of this genre. But the film is continuously wanting you to see its good heart. From organ donation awareness to frustration with the businessman-politician-police nexus, to battling poverty, beating patriarchy, confronting toxic masculinity, and even offering relationship advice, Sikandar, the character, tackles it all. And Sikandar, the film does it all in one fell swoop.

But the very basis is disturbing, especially because it seems like the makers think it is crowd-pleasing—the whole lot is quick to vandalise—hero, villain, regular people on the street. It’s troubling how far the film goes in glamorising both—the police intimidating the common citizen and the uncommon citizen intimidating the police.

And these are only the broader strokes that don't sit right. The shabby handling of the details only makes it worse. The writers have clearly decided that filling logical gaps isn’t worth the effort. Which is why you have this all-powerful protagonist's wife coordinate with his manager and henchmen to protect him without his knowledge. Yes, he's so stupid he hasn't figured it out.

And it's not even like there is a larger point being made about the character or the situation. Or if there is one, it is too convoluted and exists only to force-fit action sequences or Sikandar's casually violent personality.

It is amusing that almost every action sequence that has his henchmen around, they exist only to show how cool Sikandar is, that he doesn't even need them to raise a finger. The one scene in which they do get involved when Sikandar isn't around, and they get beaten up, only for Sikandar to come save them. The action in itself is dull and performed mainly by the camerawork and editing rather than choreography or Salman Khan's agility.

Of the top ten members of the cast in terms of screen-time, Prateik Babbar was the most effective. We know he is not the best actor on the block, but you feel the sleaze his character was to portray from a mile away. But the next nine cast members are all at one level, miles behind. Yep, that's how bad it is. As if, Salman Khan's frozen dialogue delivery is contagious and his colleagues have all caught it, including Sharman Joshi. Rashmika Mandanna is consistent and continues with the plain act from her earlier films.

Logic and creativity leave, never to return.

Despite that, maybe, maybe if there had been some time spent on tying logic in with some of the details, the film would have been a little less jarring. Yeah, but only a little less because the order of sequences and the patching up of them together is beyond repair. Especially since it seems intentional.

When it is assumed only minimal thought and effort needs to be put into drawing the crowds in; when it is assumed that the "star" is enough; when complex societal issues are resolved with a-line-or-two or a-punch-and-four from the star—this is the quality we will get. No better. Worse, maybe. So, maybe I should just be thankful that it wasn't worse.

- meeta, a part of the audience