Does Bollywood’s have a desi ‘Rambo’ syndrome?

You know the type. Hair tousled like war paint. Emotions locked behind seven doors. Muscles? Built like national monuments. Whether he’s a smuggler, a spy or a lovesick genius spiraling out of control — he owns every frame like it owes him rent.

But what’s really going on here?

Dhurandhar seems to tap into a very specific male fantasy: the idea of a man forged in violence, silence and sacrifice. Ranveer’s spy, from what the teaser hints, isn’t suave like Kabir from ‘War’ or messy like ‘Kabir Singh’ — he’s a cold-blooded agent of chaos with a cause. And that matters. Because this breed of male protagonist isn't just fighting bad guys. He's fighting his past. His father. His feelings.

It’s a familiar beat. And yet, we keep coming back for more.

Breaking the mold, or doubling down?

‘Baaghi 4’ rolled out in September and Tiger Shroff’s back with the signature blend of muscle, grit and that trademark brooding glare. You know the drill — hair like it’s been through a war, fists ready before words. But this time, he’s not alone in the testosterone arena. Sanjay Dutt joins the fray, a seasoned titan of macho cinema, bringing that old-school, unyielding swagger that fans crave.

Together, they’re a collision of generations. Tiger’s lean, streetwise alpha meets Sanjay’s raw, weathered force. The film’s box office tells the story: a solid opening that faded quickly, hinting sheer brawn and bravado might not cut it anymore without a deeper emotional punch. Guess even hyper-masculine heroes need a heart behind the fists.

Violence meets daddy issues

Let’s talk ‘Animal’. Ranbir Kapoor didn’t just play a character, he unleashed a tempest of raw, chaotic emotion that was both unsettling and mesmerizing. Ranvijay was no typical action hero; he wasn’t shooting for thrills or glory. Every bullet he fired was a scream for connection, a desperate plea to break through the cold walls of his emotionally distant father. The violence wasn’t gratuitous, it was a language of pain, a way to feel alive when everything else seemed numb.

‘Animal’ struck a chord because it tore apart the usual macho facade, exposing the fragile, broken man beneath. This wasn’t just masculinity flexed through muscle — it was masculinity drenched in grief, rage tangled with love and vulnerability so fierce it demanded attention. No wonder it became a cultural touchstone, challenging what we expect from our heroes and how we understand their scars.

Toxicity on a bike

You either love him or want to scream into a pillow when he shows up on screen. Shahid Kapoor’s ‘Kabir Singh’ is brilliant, possessive, fragile, violent and somehow, widely adored.

He drinks too much, fights too often and loves like it’s war. And the troubling part? He’s never really punished for it. The film painted his breakdown as passion, his cruelty as heartbreak. It’s what kicked off a wider conversation: Are we glamourizing bad behaviour under the mask of masculinity?

The rise of the streetwise alpha

Now flip to ‘Pushpa’. Here’s a man who starts at the bottom (literally) and climbs the smuggling ladder with nothing but bravado, brains and a don’t-mess-with-me attitude. Allu Arjun swaggered through the role like he was born to rule, making slouching look heroic.

Pushpa’s masculinity is earthy and rooted. He doesn’t chase a moral compass. He is the compass.

If ‘Dhurandhar’ is India’s answer to Jason Bourne, Pushpa is the guy who’d rob Bourne blind and still walk off with the audience’s love. Different leagues, same core hunger: respect, recognition and survival.

Myth, muscle & messiah complex

Rocky Bhai didn’t just fight — he conquered. Both ‘KGF’ films turned a man with a pickaxe into a near-mythical figure. Every frame was drenched in swagger. He smoked slow, punched fast and delivered dialogue like sermons.

Here, hyper-masculinity hit its mythic peak. Rocky wasn’t human. He was legend.

And yet — underneath the power poses — was a boy raised in poverty, haunted by a dying mother’s last wish. Again, emotional trauma meets physical dominance. And it sells.

When spies have trust issues

In 2019, ‘War’ gave us Kabir — a spy so sculpted, silent and devastatingly stylish, he made Bond look chatty. Hrithik Roshan didn’t just smirk through explosions; he owned every frame with a haunted stillness. Here was a man trained to kill, but dying to trust. The bromance-turned-betrayal arc with Tiger Shroff’s Khalid added just enough emotional tension to keep us hooked between stunts.

Cut to ‘War 2’. Bigger canvas, more explosions — and a new rival in Jr. NTR’s Vikram, who enters the YRF spy-verse with his own brand of tightly coiled fury. The result? Two emotionally unavailable men trying to out-alpha each other across continents.

It had the style. It had the swagger. But the soul? That’s where opinions split. ‘War 2’ brought the spectacle, but struggled to deepen the ache beneath the abs. And maybe, just maybe, audiences are done settling for action without aftermath.

Why Do they keep coming back?

Because deep down, these characters are wish-fulfilment fantasies wrapped in cultural angst. They're what boys are told to become (strong, silent, feared). They're how men deal with pain — by swallowing it. And they're how cinema helps us process trauma when therapy isn’t exactly trending. They’re not just punching people. They’re punching through emotional repression, patriarchy, expectation.

Even if they don’t always realise it.

Maybe it’s time to evolve?

Look — hyper-masculinity sells. But ‘Dhurandhar’ might just signal a shift. With Aditya Dhar (‘Uri’) directing and Ranveer stepping into this gritty role, there’s hope for nuance.

Because we don’t just need heroes who can kill. We need heroes who feel.

And if the teaser’s any clue, this spy has a few buried feelings he hasn’t told anyone about.

Not yet. Want more like this? Keep an eye on ‘Dhurandhar’ when it hits theatres this December. And maybe (just maybe) we’ll finally get the alpha male who knows how to say, “I’m not okay.”

Even if he says it with a grenade in hand.