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In the noise of chasing trends and hyper-masculinity, once a symbol of hope, today’s Hindi film heroes are nowhere to be found, both on screen and in spirit.
If you’ve been following the series of Hindi films in the recent past, like Baby John, Deva, Sikandar or Jaat, you might agree with me when I say: in the attempt to reinvent or 'find' a new space for them, our Hindi film heroes are more lost than ever. And no, I'm not talking about the celebrities playing them, swinging between the limitations of a superstar whose legacy is fading, or emerging actors' struggle to leave an indelible mark. I’m talking about the "idea" of the Hindi film hero, of what he once stood for, how he made us feel, teach us to fall in love, and saved the day!
As once upon a time, this hero was our moral compass, our aspirational figure, our emotional anchor. Even when he delivered justice with his punch, we believed in him because he fought with a sense of righteousness. He made us fall in love with love again. He wasn’t just a character on screen; he made us want to become better, braver, loyal, and loving. And over the decades, we’ve seen many versions of this Hindi film hero! In the early years, he was the morally upright figure- the dutiful son, the ideal citizen, perhaps too perfect, but embodying a shared aspiration to live with integrity. Then came the misunderstood man: flawed yet kind, willing to lie or steal to survive, showing us that morality is grey, and imperfection doesn’t erase goodness. Soon, the romantic-comedy hero took centre stage in a charming, funny way, who could win hearts while nudging traditional families toward change. Think of Dilip Kumar, Guru Dutt, Rajesh Khanna, Dev Anand, Manoj Kumar, and Raj Kapoor. Then came the era of action, started by Dharmendra and immortalised by the angry young man Amitabh Bachchan, a product of political unrest and widening inequality, someone whose fury wasn’t just justified; it was necessary and the voice of a generation done with silence. Later, the Khans- Shah Rukh, Aamir, and Salman- brought in a new kind of hero, combining action, emotion, and romance. He was a lover who might elope with the girl, but not before the father’s approval!
All of this followed by the dawn of a new age hero, a rise of another kind of leading man, someone who was tender, grounded, and emotionally aware. He could cry, apologise, be a supportive figure and uplift the women in his life yet remain central to the story. He came from small towns but wasn’t small-minded, wasn’t perfect but evolving, making him heroic in a new way. Think of Irrfan Khan, Hrithik Roshan, Ranbir Kapoor, Shahid Kapoor, Ranveer Singh, Rajkummar Rao, and Ayushmann Khurrana.
But rather than nurture this growth, we’ve slipped back into an insecure, overblown masculinity, one that thrives on chaos and fears nuance. Somewhere in the post-pandemic churn, amidst algorithms, box office pressure, and endless trend-chasing, we’ve lost this Hindi film hero! Now what remains on-screen is a distorted, hyper-masculine figure. He is angry but not at the system. He misdirects his rage at women, at minor inconveniences, at anyone who questions his dominance or thought. He claims to protect women at large from getting molested or mistreated while also treating the women he loves as a trophy or territory. He shouts, screams and delivers violent justice, leaving a bloody mess behind and calls it masculinity. It's almost as if this hero wants to be feared, not admired.
This isn’t evolution; at best, it’s regression and the real danger lies in who’s watching! It includes a generation of men, already unsure of what masculinity means today, latching onto emotionally stunted, larger-than-life man-child figures on screen, searching for mothers in their lovers, mistaking them for role models. But this isn't just cinema's loss alone as we’re losing something vital in culture as heroes aren’t just mirrors of our time; they’re our compass. The best ones show us how to be better, brave without being cruel, strong without oppressive, and loving without being possessive. True heroism isn’t about who shouts the loudest or hits the hardest. It’s about choosing kindness, justice, and humanity over ego. Maybe it’s time we stopped and asked what kind of men and movies we’re honestly rooting for.
If we've have to bring back our hero it can't be just by chasing the same formula of high-octane masculinity seen in Jawan which worked for re-establishing SRK trying to pack in an actor's meta life wrapped in Southern-style spectacle. That's just one way and don't get me wrong, we all admire South cinema, but Hindi cinema has its own voice too! Its heroes weren’t just fighters; they were poets, rebels, dreamers, and underdogs like we saw for decades before the pandemic. And if there’s anything to learn from down South, it’s the value of holding on to your own voice because now more than ever, Hindi cinema needs the return of its hero, not as a brand, but as a cultural necessity.
Having said that, I don't mean that the return of the hero should bring back the relic of outdated moralism with him. Just a hope for a return of a cinematic man who fights for others, cares deeply, and leaves you wanting to be better when the credits roll than chasing applause, audience and legacies. As the stunts and movies scale gets louder and grander, I long for something deeper in our heroes- a soul, a sense of purpose. Someone who doesn’t just echo current hyper-masculine nationalistic emotions but carries the weight of responsibility, of hope. And until a man who doesn’t ask to be worshipped, just understood, returns onscreen, we’ll keep on sitting through empty spectacles constantly chasing audience in near-empty halls. Hence, I sincerely hope the Hindi cinema industry realises this sooner rather than later that a hero is a hero not for applause but for a promise, especially before Bollywood heroes lose all respect onscreen as well as in real life!
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