New Delhi : There are some films you simply cannot watch with the usual reviewer’s lens. ‘120 Bahadur’ falls squarely into that category. You walk in knowing this is a story of men who fought a battle in conditions most of us wouldn’t survive for five minutes. You walk in already knowing that no matter what you watch on screen, it will never come close to what transpired at Rezang La in 1962. You walk in wanting to be moved, inspired, punched in the gut — all of it. But here’s the thing: even with all this context and emotional cushioning, the film still leaves you thinking this could have been more. Or it could have been just a short film or a documentary to bring alive the story that deserves to be told.
The biggest curveball in this earnest tribute, ironically, is Farhan Akhtar. Yes, the same man who gave us ‘Lakshya’, a film that continues to top this genre in recent times. And because of that legacy, you want to like him here, and melt into Major Shaitan Singh. But something just doesn’t land. In moments when he’s at ease with his bahadurs, the actor shines, but when he’s barking orders at them, the performative act fails. Farhan tries, really, but the connection never clicks, making him feel almost miscast.
Thankfully, ‘120 Bahadur’ is rescued and often elevated by its younger cast — the men who breathe life and authenticity into the film. Sparsh Walia, Ankit Siwach, Sahib Verma, and Dhanveer Singh disappear so seamlessly into their characters that you forget you are watching actors and not real-life soldiers. Their camaraderie, their bickering over a piece of chocolate or bad food, and their tiny bursts of humour in an otherwise freezing hell carry the film. When they die in each other’s arms, you cannot help but tear up. They are truly the beating heart of ‘120 Bahadur’, and honestly, the reason you sit through parts that otherwise feel absolutely stretched.
The biggest curveball in this earnest tribute, ironically, is Farhan Akhtar. Yes, the same man who gave us ‘Lakshya’, a film that continues to top this genre in recent times. And because of that legacy, you want to like him here, and melt into Major Shaitan Singh. But something just doesn’t land. In moments when he’s at ease with his bahadurs, the actor shines, but when he’s barking orders at them, the performative act fails. Farhan tries, really, but the connection never clicks, making him feel almost miscast.
Thankfully, ‘120 Bahadur’ is rescued and often elevated by its younger cast — the men who breathe life and authenticity into the film. Sparsh Walia, Ankit Siwach, Sahib Verma, and Dhanveer Singh disappear so seamlessly into their characters that you forget you are watching actors and not real-life soldiers. Their camaraderie, their bickering over a piece of chocolate or bad food, and their tiny bursts of humour in an otherwise freezing hell carry the film. When they die in each other’s arms, you cannot help but tear up. They are truly the beating heart of ‘120 Bahadur’, and honestly, the reason you sit through parts that otherwise feel absolutely stretched.
And this is where the film’s premise becomes even more important, because ‘120 Bahadur’ isn’t just about a battle; it’s about the 1962 Indo-China war, most of us barely know beyond a chapter or two in school textbooks. Rezang La was a massacre, a miracle, a moment in history. What’s stranger and heartbreaking is how many such stories remain buried under snow, literally. If the radio operator hadn’t survived that day, we probably wouldn’t even know about these bravehearts who stopped the larger Chinese troop advance with nothing but grit. These are the stories that deserve space not just in history books but in pop culture. Heroes who didn’t shout patriotism, didn’t perform it, didn’t hashtag it; they simply lived it, and died for it.
The film’s intention is noble, almost painfully so. You can tell the director, Razneesh ‘Razy’ Ghai, an army kid himself, wanted to craft a tribute, not just a movie. But somewhere along the line, the emotional beats start feeling engineered. Like the sudden Diwali flashback with Farhan Akhtar and Raashi Khanna seems placed to make audiences feel more deeply about an army family’s collective sacrifice, balidaan, as they say, but it doesn’t quite pull at your heartstrings. Even the song “Yaad Aate Hai,” clearly aiming to be this generation’s “Sandese Aate Hain,” ends up being… well, a nice song — melodious, but never tear-inducing.
However, the cinematography by Tetsuo Nagata is breathtaking — and not in a glossy, touristy way. You feel the biting cold of Ladakh, the harsh wind, the stillness of the snow that holds both beauty and brutality. The terrain becomes the new villain, a new battle for these men who have lived life in the plains. Towards the climax, when you see bodies of both armies lying bloodied on the serene snow, that’s when it hits you — war takes away too much. And these visuals, more than the writing, evoke the emotion the film is desperately trying to reach.
But despite the gorgeous frames, sincere performances, and deep respect baked into every scene, ‘120 Bahadur’ never quite climbs to the heights it aims for. It doesn’t shake you the way a war film should. You appreciate it deeply, but you don’t walk out carrying it in your chest. And for a film built on one of the most heroic stands in Indian military history, it ultimately falls short of becoming iconic. It salutes the bravehearts, with full honesty, but doesn’t immortalise them.
