Mumbai, Jan 1
Director - Sriram Raghavan
Cast - Agastya Nanda, Dharmendra, Jaideep Ahlawat, Simar Bhatia
Duration - 143 Minutes
Rating - 4.5 stars
Writer - Sriram Raghavan, Arijit Biswas, Pooja Ladha Surti
Directed by Sriram Raghavan, Ikkis is a controlled chaos, a deeply moving biographical war drama that chooses reflection over loud jingoism. Based on the life of Second Lieutenant Arun Khetrapal, India's youngest Param Vir Chakra recipient, the film tells a human story about courage, loss, memory, and the complex emotional life after war. The makers have intentionally opted to treat the subject with dignity, sensitivity and thoughtfulness rather then turning it into a blaring patriotic statement.
The film takes place across two time periods, and this structure becomes one of its strongest storytelling devices. The first timeline takes us during the Battle of Basantar in December 1971, where 21-year-old Arun Khetarpal leads his tank regiment through heavily mined terrain against overwhelming odds. These sequences are tense and grounded, focusing less on spectacle and more on the mental state of a young officer who suddenly takes on enormous responsibility of defending his country in a war, which is chaotic and unforgiving.
Agastya Nanda plays the role of Arun Khetarpal, a young, handsome, honest and driven officer with gleam in eyes and heart full of bravery. There is no forced heroism in his portrayal, he is earnest and real, he is someone who just found his calling, though little too overzealous at times, but that aspect of his character is deliberate.
His bravery emerges naturally through action and decision making. His refusal to leave his burning tank, even after being ordered to retreat, feels less like a dramatic flourish and more like an inevitable consequence of who he is. Nanda fits role well, bringing a rawness that makes Arun’s sacrifice feel painfully real.
The second timeline, set in 2001, provides the emotional spine of the film. Dharmendra plays Brigadier M. L. Khetarpal, Arun’s father, now decades away from the battlefield but still carrying its weight. When he meets Brigadier Khwaja Mohammad Nasir, played with quiet authority by Jaideep Ahlawat, the film moves into unexpected territory. This portion of Ikkis is not about politics or historical scorekeeping, but about two soldiers shaped by the same war, contemplating life after so much chaos.
Jaideep Ahlawat delivers one of the film’s most compelling performances. His character is dignified, reflective, and deeply aware of the cost of war. The interactions between him and Dharmendra are handled with remarkable sensitivity. Their shared moments, walking through old neighborhoods, visiting places shaped by memory, and finally standing at the site of the Battle of Basantar form the emotional peak of the film.
Dharmendra’s performance deserves special mention. His presence brings a quiet gravity that cannot be manufactured. Without relying on heavy dialogue, he conveys grief, pride, nostalgia, and unresolved sorrow through small gestures and silences. Knowing this is his final film role only deepens the emotional impact. His scenes with Ahlawat are among the most moving depictions of post-war reconciliation seen in Indian cinema, precisely because they feel unforced.
The VFX in Ikkis is used with restraint, enhancing realism rather than drawing attention to itself. The tank warfare sequences feel immersive and grounded, capturing the weight, danger, and claustrophobia of armored combat without resorting to excessive spectacle. Every explosion and maneuver serves the narrative, reinforcing the chaos of battle while keeping the focus firmly on the soldiers inside the machines.
The background score and music play a subtle but crucial role in shaping the film’s emotional landscape. The BGM never attempts to overwhelm the scene; instead, it gently underlines moments of tension, loss, and introspection. During the war sequences, the score remains restrained, allowing the sounds of tanks, explosions, and commands to carry the weight. In the quieter moments, particularly in the 2001 timeline, the music becomes sparse and reflective. The dialogues follow a similar philosophy, measured, purposeful, and free of theatrical excess. Several lines linger not because they are dramatic, but because they are honest and spoken at the right moment.
Sriram Raghavan’s direction is marked by restraint and confidence. He trusts the material and his audience, allowing silences and pauses to speak as loudly as words. The screenplay, co-written by Raghavan, Arijit Biswas, and Pooja Ladha Surti, is tightly constructed, balancing two timelines without losing emotional continuity. Every scene feels intentional, whether it advances the narrative or deepens character understanding. Performances across the board are strong, and special mention must be made of debutante Simar Bhatia as Kiran, Arun Khetarpal’s love interest. Her role is limited in screen time but emotionally significant, offering a glimpse of the life Arun could have had. She brings warmth and sincerity to the character, never turning it into a distraction from the larger story.
From a production standpoint, Ikkis reflects Maddock Films’ growing confidence in backing meaningful, content-driven cinema. Known primarily for genre experimentation, the studio takes a bold step here by supporting a film that prioritizes emotional truth over commercial formula. The attention to detail, respect for historical context, and willingness to tell a nuanced story speak to a production house that understands the responsibility that comes with such subject matter. Ikkis feels like a film made with care rather than calculation.
Ikkis is a film about humanity surviving conflict. It speaks to love, grief, duty, and belonging, emotions that exist beyond borders and uniforms. By choosing empathy over anger and memory over messaging, the film achieves something rare for the genre. It honors sacrifice without glorifying violence and respects history without weaponizing it.
