If you missed Chhaava during its theatrical run, here is some good news — it’s now streaming on Netflix. And honestly, despite its flaws, some apparent and some buried in the roar of Sambhaji – it’s worth watching for the sheer heart that Vicky Kaushal brings to the battlefield.
Directed by Laxman Utekar and based on Shivaji Sawant’s Marathi novel, Chhaava shines a spotlight on Chhatrapati Sambhaji Maharaj — the son of the legendary Chatrapati Shivaji Maharaj. ( If interested in knowing more, I would recommend you read SAMBHAJI by Vishwas Patil)
History hasn’t always been kind to Sambhaji. The film attempts to set the record straight from one perspective: he wasn’t just Shivaji’s heir but a fierce warrior who rattled the mighty Mughal Empire under Aurangzeb’s nose for nearly a decade.
The story begins with Shivaji’s death, a seismic event that emboldens the Mughals to dream of dominating the Deccan. Sambhaji, however, has other plans. He storms Burhanpur, throws a spanner into Mughal ambitions, and becomes Aurangzeb’s biggest headache. But internal betrayals, family conspiracies, and the inevitable tug of war for power shape his tragic journey.
Chhaava Belongs To Vivky Kaushal.
Chhaava belongs to Vicky Kaushal. He dives headfirst into the role of Sambhaji Maharaj, breathing rage, pride, and pain into every frame. Whether roaring on the battlefield or bleeding defiance in captivity, Kaushal owns the character — it’s one of his finest performances yet. The getup is so much truer to the images one has seen of Chatrapati Shivaji Maharaj – it adds to the impression.
I’ve started watching Vicky Kaushal and R. Madhavan’s movies, as you usually don’t go wrong with them. In his short career, Vicky has already given us a few good films, including URI – The Surgical Strike, Sam Manekshaw, Masan, Raman Raghav, Razi, and Saradar Udham Singh, among others.
As the betrayals stack up and the battles intensify after the interval, the story gains momentum, culminating in a goosebump-worthy climax where Kaushal’s Sambhaji faces his enemies with unflinching resolve. The final showdown is brilliantly choreographed and shot, making you wish you could have caught it on a big screen.
Brilliant Co-Actors.
If Vicky Kaushal roared as Chhaava, Akshaye Khanna, playing Aurangzeb, offers a restrained counterpoint. Ashutosh Rana impresses as Sarsenapati Hambirrao, and Divya Dutta leaves a strong impact as the scheming Soyarabai. Vineet Kumar Singh as Kavi Kalash is another casting win, bringing emotional weight to Sambhaji’s journey.
AND THEN THE DIPS.
While Chhaava is grand in ambition, it falters in execution, especially in the first half. Instead of developing the characters and their conflicts, the film often feels like a hurried collage of action scenes and songs. Important political complexities are often overlooked, and the emotional stakes can sometimes get lost in the spectacle. The subject is so vast that a single film can’t capture all the intricacies and equations. Maybe Chhaava as a Netflix series, exploiting the rich character and history, could have done justice to the subject.
Oh, by the way, Rashmika Mandanna looks radiant but struggles with her accent and depth. And she is lost in the movie, reduced to being a supporting cast in many ways.
Music
The music by A.R. Rahman is beautiful on its own. However, if the war anthem “Aaya Re Toofan” captures the Maratha spirit perfectly, the love ballad “Jaane Tu” sounds too modern. And we know that one dance sequence has been dropped due to public outcry. However, the whole movie is an adrenaline ride, and so the music was a support that my untrained ears couldn’t distinguish.
NET NET.
Chhaava is far from a perfect film — it struggles to find a consistent voice between a grand tribute and a gritty historical drama. But it hits the right emotional notes when it matters most, especially in the final stretch. And through it all, Vicky Kaushal roars — quite literally — keeping you invested.
If you’re a fan of historical dramas, stirring battles, or simply brilliant performances, give Chhaava a shot. Now that it’s streaming on OTT, gather your starters and dive into the world of a warrior who dared to defy an empire. It’s not just a history lesson — it’s an experience.
Addon. Biopics Are Tough.
Biopics carry the heavy responsibility of representing a life, not just its milestones, but its moods, mistakes, and evolutions. When a figure’s journey spans multiple fronts, shifting contexts, and inner battles, the attempt to frame it neatly into a movie becomes a nearly impossible task.
In this case, while the film captures several striking moments and landmark achievements, critics rightly pointed out that essential portions of life have either been missed or misrepresented. Certain relationships, pivotal periods of struggle, and nuances of personal growth are hurried through or oversimplified, sacrificing authenticity for brevity. The omissions are not just editorial; they alter the perception of a complex life lived in full spectrum.
This is not just a critique of the filmmakers—it’s a structural problem. No single feature-length film can do justice to a life so layered, contradictory, and expansive. Attempting to compress decades of evolution, impact, and inner conflict into a compact runtime inevitably results in important threads being lost or flattened.
A story of this magnitude demands a larger canvas. Ideally, it would be better served as a multi-part franchise or a detailed series, where each chapter of life can be explored in its context, not just representative moments cherry-picked for cinematic effect. Only then could the full spirit, the quieter revolutions, the internal dilemmas, and the unresolved edges of the character emerge in their true form.
When dealing with a life lived on such a scale and with such emotional breadth, anything less feels like a highlight reel, not a story. True justice lies in immersion — in giving time, contradictions, silence, and transformation their rightful place.
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