New Delhi — A film review published by The Economist, a British weekly magazine, has triggered a significant backlash in India after the publication described the blockbuster Hindi film Dhurandhar as reflecting “propaganda” and suggested that its audience had been “browbeaten” into accepting a distorted worldview. The review, which goes beyond conventional film criticism to question the independent judgment of Indian audiences, has reignited a longstanding debate about Western media’s approach to Indian cinema, politics, and national identity.
Dhurandhar, which has reportedly crossed ₹1,500 crore in box-office collections within approximately two weeks of release — placing it among the highest-grossing films in Indian cinema history, according to trade reports — centres on India’s fight against cross-border terrorism. The film’s commercial reception has been extraordinary by any measure, yet it is the nature of The Economist‘s critique, rather than the fact of criticism itself, that has drawn the sharpest responses.
What The Economist Said — And Why It Matters
The magazine’s review, as quoted in Indian media coverage of the controversy, stated that the film’s “genius is to reflect the world many Indians — browbeaten by years of shrill pro-Modi messaging on TV news and social media — already believe to be real.” In a separate observation, the review noted that “the loudest cheers came when the screen lit up with news footage of Mr. Modi, the bravest Hindu of all.”

Critics of the review argue that these characterisations are not film analysis but editorial condescension. The news footage referenced in the film reportedly includes clips from Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s 2014 swearing-in ceremony and the 2016 demonetisation announcement — events that are part of India’s documented public record and carry no inherent religious connotation. Framing the audience response to such footage through a religious lens, critics argue, reflects a selective and reductive reading of Indian politics and culture.
More substantially, the review’s suggestion that Indian audiences cannot distinguish fiction from reality — or that their enthusiasm for the film is a product of media manipulation rather than genuine resonance — has been widely perceived as dismissive of Indian agency.
A Pattern Critics Say Is Not New
The backlash has also prompted a broader comparative argument: that Western cinema has long enjoyed a different standard of scrutiny when it comes to nationalist or military-themed storytelling.
The James Bond franchise, produced in Britain — the same country that publishes The Economist — has for decades depicted a fictional British intelligence operative conducting lethal operations across the globe in service of national interest. The franchise has rarely, if ever, been subjected to the kind of ideological interrogation that The Economist has applied to Dhurandhar.
Hollywood’s record is similarly illustrative. Films such as Missing in Action (1984), which offered a revisionist portrayal of American defeat in Vietnam; Rambo: First Blood Part II (1985); American Sniper (2014); and Zero Dark Thirty (2012) — all of which celebrate American military power, vengeance, or intelligence operations — have largely been received in Western critical discourse as patriotic storytelling, occasionally debated but seldom condemned as propaganda in mainstream publications of The Economist‘s standing.
The argument being made by Indian commentators is not that these Western films are above criticism. It is that the application of the propaganda label appears to be asymmetric — reserved for non-Western cinema engaging with themes of national security and retaliation, while similar Western narratives are treated as legitimate artistic expression.
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India’s Lived Experience With Terrorism
Central to the defence of Dhurandhar — and to the criticism of The Economist‘s review — is India’s documented history of cross-border terrorism. This is not a matter of political interpretation but of public record.
The hijacking of Indian Airlines Flight IC-814 in December 1999, which ended after eight days with the release of three militants; the attack on the Indian Parliament in December 2001; the coordinated Mumbai attacks of November 2008, which killed approximately 166 people and were subsequently linked by Indian and international investigators to Pakistan-based militant networks — these events form part of the historical backdrop against which films like Dhurandhar are made and received.
India’s security establishment has, over decades, publicly documented its concerns about terror financing and operational support originating from across its western border. This is a position that has, at various points, been acknowledged by international bodies and Western governments themselves.
When Indian audiences respond to a film that dramatises retaliation against terrorism, the response is, in the view of many analysts and commentators, rooted in lived national experience — not in susceptibility to propaganda. The Economist‘s framing, critics argue, erases this context entirely.
The Editorial Responsibility Question
The debate raises a legitimate question about editorial responsibility at major international publications. Film criticism, even sharp and unflattering criticism, is an entirely appropriate journalistic function. Publications have every right to evaluate the ideological content of cinema, including nationalist or politically inflected narratives.
What is more contestable is the rhetorical move of attributing audience reception not to storytelling, emotional resonance, or national experience, but to a population’s alleged susceptibility to “shrill messaging.” That framing is less an act of criticism than a statement about the intellectual autonomy of an entire nation’s moviegoing public.
It is also worth noting the internal inconsistency: if Dhurandhar‘s commercial success is being attributed to propaganda rather than genuine appeal, the same logic, applied consistently, would require similar scrutiny of Western blockbusters that celebrate national power. That scrutiny, by and large, has not been applied with equivalent rigour by the same publication.
What the Numbers Indicate
Dhurandhar‘s box-office performance — approximately ₹1,500 crore in roughly two weeks, according to trade reports — is not, in itself, evidence of the film’s quality or accuracy. Commercial success and artistic or factual merit are separate considerations. However, the scale of its reception does indicate that the film has connected with audiences across India in a manner that cannot be reduced to a narrow demographic or ideological constituency.
Trade analysts and entertainment reporters have noted that the film’s collections place it in rare company in Indian cinema history. Whether one regards the film as patriotic storytelling, political cinema, or a commercial entertainer, its audience reach is a data point that demands engagement on its own terms — not dismissal.
Criticism Is Welcome; Condescension Is Not
The controversy over The Economist‘s review of Dhurandhar is, at its core, a debate about the terms on which Indian cinema — and Indian audiences — are engaged by international media. Criticism of films, including Indian films, is not only acceptable but necessary. A rigorous review that examined Dhurandhar‘s narrative choices, historical accuracy, or political framing would have been a legitimate contribution to public discourse.
What critics have found objectionable is not the critique but the condescension — the implication that Indian audiences are passive recipients of messaging rather than active, thinking viewers shaped by their own national history and experience.
As Indian cinema continues to grow in global significance, and as Indian audiences increasingly engage with international commentary on their cultural products, publications that seek to be taken seriously in that conversation may find that the credibility of their analysis depends on the respect they extend to their subjects.
The Economist is free to review Dhurandhar as it sees fit. But its readers — in India and beyond — are equally free to evaluate the quality of that review.
