In the 2007 Shah Rukh Khan hit movie Om Shanti Om, a satirical nod to retro Bollywood, one standout scene unfolds at an awards show. Filled with celebrity cameos, this sequence wonderfully parodies the insecurities and delicate egos behind Bollywood’s glamorous award nights. My favorite moment is the comical Akshay Kumar cameo, where he throws an exaggerated tantrum upon losing a trophy to Shah Rukh Khan—a moment still ripe for memes.
Fast forward to The Ba***ds of Bollywood, the highly anticipated Netflix series marking Shah Rukh Khan’s son Aryan’s directorial debut. Here, too, an awards-night spoof stands out as one of the funniest set-pieces. The “Filmfirst” red carpet features Bollywood stars like Rajkummar Rao, Arjun Kapoor, and others, who humorously lampoon themselves and their peers. Shah Rukh Khan also makes an appearance, playing a caricatured version of himself. A rookie actor even references King Khan’s famous OSO line about the universe conspiring in a not-so-subtle homage.
However, there’s a big caveat: a tribute only lands if its foundation is original and strong. Sadly, The Ba***ds of Bollywood falls short. The script leans heavily on star cameos (mostly revealed in the trailer) and obvious self-aware jokes, making the main plot feel weak. These elements work in isolation (likely why the trailer was appealing) but together, they seem disjointed.
The series showcases Aryan Khan’s many talents. As creator, director, and showrunner, Aryan has also co-written the dialogues and script (alongside Bilal Siddiqui and Manav Chauhan). The curiosity surrounding The Ba***ds of Bollywood is essentially curiosity about Aryan. Does he have promise? Yes, he uses the platform he has skillfully. Technically, the show is polished with excellent sound design, costumes, editing, and music. However, the dialogues are sharp, but the excessive use of profanity (why do OTT shows sprinkle four-letter words like confetti?) becomes tiresome. A smarter plot might have made it forgivable. Unfortunately, the screenplay has potential but lacks depth.
Aasman Singh (Lakshya Lalwani) is a struggling newcomer who finds success with his debut film, produced by the ruthless Freddy Sodawallah (Manish Chaudhary). Supported by his best friend Parvaiz (Raghav Juyal), manager Sanya (Anya Singh), and a foul-mouthed uncle Avataar Singh (Manoj Pahwa), he navigates Bollywood’s cutthroat world filled with greedy filmmakers, failed actors, nepotism, and even the underworld. The central conflict involves a contract Freddy wants Aasman to sign, clashing with his ambition to work with Karan Johar. Aasman’s love interest in Karishma Talvar (Sahher Bamba), the daughter of a powerful superstar Ajay Talvar (Bobby Deol), leads to clashes with Freddy and a desperate old actor Jaraj (Rajat Bedi). His journey to a life-altering revelation forms the crux of the seven episodes.
Set in Bollywood’s heart, the show shines when mocking industry quirks. Inside jokes abound, and if you follow gossip, you’ll smirk. The script spares no one—journalists, nepotism, stars avoiding certain filmmakers, and producers who manipulate newcomers’ careers. The most shade is thrown at an NCG officer (reminiscent of the NCB), busting a party and calling attendees “druggists.” Freddy even advises Aasman, ‘Don’t do drugs.’ Cheeky!
Stars who don’t impact the main plot still entertain. Their roles fit their personas. Emraan Hashmi is an intimacy coach. Salman Khan appears bored at a party, worrying about fatherhood. Arjun Kapoor makes a snarky comment at Rajkummar Rao, and Sara Ali Khan pretends to be ‘middle-class.’ Karan Johar, playing a self-important director, is the highlight. “Not my cup of coffee,” he quips. He also calls himself the “movie mafia.”
What falters is the central storyline. The Ba***ds of Bollywood promises an absurd, edgy industry satire but stumbles over its narrative. Twists feel forced, leaving arcs unresolved. Aasman’s uncle Avatar has ample screentime and a subplot about his failed singing career, but it doesn’t fit organically. Similarly, Aasman’s father’s illness is treated too seriously, clashing with the show’s irreverent tone. The inconsistency holds the show back. The final twist is meant to shock but feels odd. A Bobby Deol song is cleverly included, but cinephiles may have seen a similar tactic in Rekhachitram, a South Indian film from earlier this year.
The performances are effective but not outstanding. Lakshya and Raghav, standouts from Kill, carry the series well. Anya and Sahher are average. The senior actors excel. Bobby Deol combines menace and warmth, Mona Singh is graceful as Aasman’s mother, and Manoj Pahwa is terrific.
Ultimately, The Ba***ds of Bollywood is glossy, gossipy, and binge-worthy. You’ll discover the asterisk’s meaning in the title (it’s exactly what you think!). But it never becomes the audacious show the trailers suggested. Is a second season warranted? Perhaps. But Aryan Khan? He deserves another chance—hopefully with a script as daring and truths as raw as the industry he critiques.
