When Film Critics Stop Reviewing Films and Start Issuing Press Notes

There was a time—long, long ago—when film criticism was about cinema. About narrative arcs, performances, screenplay, editing, music, coherence, craft. Critics disagreed, audiences debated, and everyone went home reasonably sane.

Then Dhurandhar released.

And suddenly, we weren’t watching a movie anymore—we were watching a meltdown.

The Movie That Broke the Critics

Dhurandhar did something unforgivable in today’s cinematic ecosystem:
It didn’t ask permission. It didn’t perform ideological loyalty checks.

It didn’t signal its virtue loudly enough.
And worst of all—it resonated with audiences without being certified “safe” by the usual liberal gatekeepers.

The result? A collective nervous breakdown masquerading as film criticism.

Within hours of release, certain critics—who usually write like detached aesthetes—began sounding like opinion columnists with hurt feelings. Reviews were less about what worked or didn’t and more about what the film dared to imply. The discomfort was palpable. The hostility barely disguised.

And when audiences pushed back?

Well, that’s when things got really interesting.

Enter: The Film Critics Guild, Stage Left

Audiences, emboldened by social media, did the unthinkable. They questioned critics.

Not abused.
Not threatened.
Not silenced.

They questioned.

They asked why reviews felt pre-decided.
Why certain themes were judged more harshly than others? Why ideological alignment seemed to matter more than cinematic merit?

This is when the Film Critics Guild—an organization that supposedly exists to protect criticism, not sanctify it—decided to release a note.

A note.

To the audience.

Let that sink in.

The Curious Case of Critics Who Can Criticize Everyone Except Themselves

The Guild’s note was framed as a plea for “healthy discourse” and “respect for critics.” But between the polite phrases and institutional language lay a clear subtext:

How dare the audience talk back?

For a group that routinely dissects actors, directors, writers, producers—and entire belief systems—with surgical cruelty, the sudden fragility was almost poetic.

Critics who casually label films “dangerous,” “problematic,” or “morally questionable” suddenly couldn’t handle being asked:

  • Why did you approach this film with such visible hostility?
  • Would you have reviewed it differently if the politics were reversed?
  • Is this a review or an ideological verdict?

Apparently, those questions were too much.

Liberalism, But Only Upwards

This episode exposed a deeply uncomfortable truth about India’s so-called liberal film criticism space:
It loves dissent—as long as it flows one way.

Critics are free to:

  • Talk down to mass audiences
  • Sneer at popular taste
  • Reduce complex viewer reactions to “mob mentality”
  • Attribute box office success to “manufactured nationalism”

But the moment the audience pushes back, suddenly it’s:

  • “Toxic discourse”
  • “Anti-intellectualism”
  • “Threats to free expression”

Free expression, it turns out, is a one-way street—critics speak, audiences clap or shut up.

The Irony Is Almost Cinematic

Let’s pause and admire the irony.

Film critics—who often accuse filmmakers of propaganda—ended up issuing a collective statement defending a shared ideological posture.

Critics—who argue art should provoke—were rattled when their own authority was provoked.

Critics—who champion “questioning power”—panicked when audiences questioned their power.

If Dhurandhar is guilty of anything, it’s this:
It exposed how thin the line is between criticism and gatekeeping.

Audience Is Not the Enemy

Here’s the uncomfortable reality many critics don’t want to accept:

The audience has evolved.

They read reviews critically now.
They spot patterns.
They recognize tone policing.
They know when a film is being reviewed and when it’s being disciplined.

Questioning a critic is not censorship.
Disagreeing is not intimidation.
Calling out bias is not fascism.

It’s engagement.

And if criticism cannot survive engagement, then maybe it was never criticism to begin with—just authority dressed up as intellect.

Final Act: Who Is Afraid of Accountability?

The Dhurandhar controversy will pass. Another film will come. Another ideological battle will be fought in multiplex columns disguised as reviews.

But this episode will be remembered for one reason:

It revealed that the loudest defenders of “liberal values” are often the least liberal when it comes to being challenged.

Cinema deserves better.
Audiences deserve respect.
And criticism deserves accountability.

Because the moment critics start issuing notes to silence disagreement, they stop being critics—and become curators of acceptable thought.

And that, ironically, is the most uncinematic ending of all.

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