Chhaava, adapted from the Marathi novel of the same name, written by Shivaji Sawant, follows the story of Sambhaji from looking up to his father, Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj, to becoming a fierce king, confronting Mughal dynasty and internal treachery.
We meet Vicky Kaushal’s Sambhaji in three phases: the enthusiastic prince, the king with a burden of a nation, and the martyr in chains. There was a massive shift in not just costumes, but the overall tone of each phase. Moving from playful conversations with the courtiers and a silent, tortured Aurangzeb (Akshaye Khanna) to suffering in absolute silence, the character uniquely embodies the Indian hero’s journey, influenced heavily by the elements of dharma, sahyog, and sacrifice. Critics have praised the “terrific climax”, particularly the scene where Sambhaji triumphantly marches into battle with a log, which is one of the best sequences in the film.
The film’s subplots are also noteworthy. These include the loyal vs. conspiratorial courtiers, Aurangzeb’s looming and royal-revenge mindset, Yesubai Mandanna and her royal-identity gaze adaptation, and the loyal vs. conspiratorial courtiers. This provides the opportunity to examine, more so than most narratives, an understated and less acknowledged aspect of human leadership and legacy bequeathed upon them: the selfless service to a cause, the advocacy of which draws fire upon them and the toll it leaves on the heart.
Real Lives, Mythic Lives
For Vicky Kaushal, donning Sambhaji’s armor was a first. Kaushal’s father, Sham Kaushal, had worked as a stuntman and Kaushal had grown up in a Mumbai chawl, so he had personal as well as professional reasons to relate to the character. While Kaushal rose to prominence as an actor, he had a personal narrative to channel all the way to the throne.
Mandanna had adapted to South India as a region and culture, immersion, and so her crossover as Yesubai in Hindi cinema was a first. Some had pointed out her accent, so it was noteworthy for them to know her accented Hindi. In contrast to his usual type, composed roles, Akshaye Khanna played Aurangzeb. This required a precise performative shift as he had to wield bike discipline as the evil character.
Director Laxman Utekar drew from personal experiences on the project, having transitioned from selling eggs and operating a vada pav stall at Shivaji Park to directing what became one of the biggest epics of 2025. The film’s quiet authenticity stemmed from his small beginnings — he understood the struggle to achieve something against the odds, which resonated on a personal level with the character of Sambhaji.
Expectations Soared; Reality Took a Wild Ride
Even before the film’s release, the predicted scale of the film was heavily touted — with a record budget, grand battle scenes, opulent sets, and a score by A.R. Rahman. Fans, especially in Maharashtra, where the Maratha empire’s legacy resides in collective memory, were eager for the film. Box office analysts predicted a first day opening at around ₹6.74 crores, even potentially surpassing ₹8 crores with block-tickets.
When it released on 14 February 2025, the audience response was electric – cheers echoed in theatres, especially in the regional clusters. But along with the cheers came scrutiny: While some praised the emotional charge, others critiqued the screenplay or historical liberties. One fan summed it up nicely online: “Acting was good (except Rashmika’s accent)… but the background music and screenplay could’ve been better.”
Critics too had mixed responses. Describing the film as “a meandering period drama,” some critics praised the ambition, but it did little to satisfy viewers in the state of Maharashtra. One viewer described the screening as charged: “We were enjoying the last few minutes when people started sobbing and shouting. It was as if the film extended the drama of the period.”
So the mood was complex – a triumphant blend of reverence, entertainment, and a profound historical burden. There were cheers, tears spilled, and the audience couldn’t help but engage vocally as the film unfolded.
Behind the Scenes: Armor, Accents and Altercations
Chhaava’s making took into account a multitude of lesser-known stories, as in the case of a recently circulated, deleted scene with Divya Dutta as Soyarabai and Ashutosh Rana as Hambirrao Mohite, which became the subject of fan debate after the film’s release.
To achieve realistic portrayals of night battle sequences, the production team went to actual jungles and sugarcane fields, and endured mosquitoes, humidity, and uneven ground while trying to capture those scenes on film. While the action choreography was visually ambitious, there were some criticisms that it was overly repetitive.
One substantial creative risk was the selection of music to accompany the scenes. Expectations from the audience were for regionally and temporally authentic folk music and some reviewers felt that the soundtrack was overly contemporary to the point of mismatch. On the other hand, some viewers appreciated the boldness of the music that was combined with the spectacular visuals.
ADVERTISMENT
That incident from the cinema hall in Navi Mumbai, where some men were allegedly compelled to kneel as punishment for laughing during the film’s emotional climax, brought to the fore issues of respect and audience behavior and was widely shared on social media as an example of audience shame and regional pride.
A Tapestry of Valor, Identity and Modern Memory
What Chhaava ultimately provides, through the awkward juxtaposition of an immense historical persona with the frailties of an ordinary individual, is an offering that furthers the Indian cinematic tradition where kings bleed, idealism wanes, and hope lingers. Found mainly within the Marathi and pan-Indian cultural frameworks, the film’s narrative touches on sentiments of rajyabhimaan, along with the themes of betrayal, dharma, and aggression, that are central to all of India.
As an audience member, one observes the visual and historical tapestry — leafy forts, bugle calls, and drum beats — that punctuates the region’s history. Looking into the preparations, Vicky’s body, mood, and cadence, Rashmika’s regional culture immersion, and the crew’s massive fort set constructions, one can appreciate the reclamation of the narrative: a Marathi story aimed at the Hindi mainstream audience.
Sambhaji raises his flag for the Maratha empire of the 17th century and for every young filmmaker and Indian actor with aspirations, who fought the odds, and the legacies. Chhaava may be a film about a crown and a kingdom, yet it’s heart beats for the modest chawl, the roadside stall, the silent rehearsal, the fort under construction, and every viewer that sat in silence and said: “There is a story worth telling.”
Watch Free Movies on MyFlixer-to.click