Nachiket Samant’s Single Salma is a film that means well, it wants to talk about choice, womanhood, and the complex mess of modern relationships, but the storytelling doesn’t always keep up with its good intentions. Its heart is firmly in the right place; its execution, unfortunately, isn’t.

Set in Lucknow, the film follows Salma (Huma Qureshi), a bright, no-nonsense woman who works for the city’s urban planning department. She’s the family’s emotional and financial anchor, engaged to Sikander (Shreyas Talpade), a dependable, well-meaning man who represents traditional stability. Salma, though, isn’t entirely convinced she wants the life that everyone else seems to have charted for her.

The film begins on a refreshingly grounded note. For once, government officers are shown working in earnest, preparing for a Smart City Conclave in London with genuine commitment. Even abroad, they’re seen learning and representing their city with professionalism, a detail rarely captured with such authenticity in Hindi cinema.

In London, Salma’s world shifts. She meets Meet (Sunny Singh), a charming planner from the London town planning department who believes in open relationships and is already involved with his girlfriend (Lauren Gottlieb). Drawn to his easy confidence and free-spirited approach to life, Salma finds herself pulled into unfamiliar emotional territory. When she gives in to her desire and loses her virginity to him, what follows is confusion, she wants something deeper, and later he too convinces himself he should marry her and follows her to Lucknow.

The film’s most compelling stretch comes when Salma becomes the target of public shaming after photos of her in a bikini are leaked online. Instead of melodrama, Samant crafts these moments with empathy. Her male colleagues rally to defend her, a quietly powerful reversal of stereotype. It’s a scene that captures both the vulnerability and dignity of a woman reclaiming her narrative.

Huma Qureshi carries the film on her capable shoulders, lending Salma warmth, humour, and a believable mix of confidence and self-doubt. Though her character feels like a patchwork of different ideas. She gamely rises above it all and gives her 100 percent. Shreyas Talpade plays Sikander with restraint and decency, and with his comic timing spot on. He’s the narrator of the film, something like the unreliable narrator of How I Met Your Mother and we wish was given a freer hand. Sunny Singh’s Meet exudes an easy charm that later gives way to unexpected introspection. Navni Parihar as Mrs. Shrivastav, Salma’s senior colleague, and Nidhi Singh as her outspoken best friend, add texture and energy, giving the film its liveliest exchanges.

However, despite the strong performances, Single Salma struggles with tone and rhythm. What begins as a layered exploration of identity and independence slips into formula, the conservative girl falling for the first man who makes her feel seen, mistaking attraction for love. There are moments that remind you of Queen (2014), but without its effortless flow or organic humour. Where Queen felt like an unforced journey of self-discovery, Single Salma feels more like a well-meant essay on liberation.

Sohail Sen’s music barely registers, and the film’s pacing, particularly in the second half, is uneven. The narrative loses its spark just when it should be finding its emotional peak.

Still, there’s sincerity in Single Salma, in its attempt to portray an independent woman not as a stereotype but as someone flawed, curious, and learning to define herself beyond societal labels. It’s a film that tries to empower through empathy rather than rebellion, even if the craft doesn’t always rise to the occasion.

All-in-all, Single Salma is a well-intentioned, occasionally moving story that needed sharper writing and lighter storytelling to truly shine.

Also Read: Huma Qureshi Engaged To Acting Coach Rachit Singh?

At 225 minutes long, Baahubali: The Epic is as monumental as the kingdom of Mahishmati itself. This newly reworked single-film version of S.S. Rajamouli’s two-part saga, Baahubali: The Beginning (2015) and Baahubali 2: The Conclusion (2017), finally delivers what the director’s vision may have always intended: a single, seamless narrative where grandeur, emotion and destiny coalesce without interruption.

The story begins on a stormy night, as a noble woman wades through a river clutching a baby in her arms, a moment of sacrifice that sets off a saga of legacy and vengeance. The child, rescued by the tribal people, grows up as Shiva (Prabhas), unaware of his royal heritage. His curiosity about the world beyond his village leads him up a forbidden mountain, where fate introduces him to Avantika (Tamannaah Bhatia), a fierce warrior belonging to a rebel clan. Their meeting thrusts him into a mission far larger than himself: to rescue Queen Devasena (Anushka Shetty) and challenge the tyrant king Bhallaladeva (Rana Daggubati).

As the narrative unfolds, the truth surfaces, Shiva is none other than Mahendra Baahubali, the son of the noble warrior Amarendra Baahubali (also played by Prabhas), who was betrayed and slain by his trusted commander Kattappa (Sathyaraj) under royal command. The revelation unites Mahendra’s destiny with his father’s unfinished quest. In a spectacular final act, he rises to reclaim his birthright, leading the oppressed against the mighty fortress of Mahishmati. The climactic confrontation between Baahubali and Bhallaladeva, fire against fury, justice against tyranny, culminates in a poetic restoration of order, bringing the saga full circle.

Narratively, this single-film version feels more faithful to Rajamouli’s epic vision. While the earlier two-part structure offered scale, Baahubali: The Epic offers cohesion. The pacing feels more organic, with smoother transitions and a more immersive emotional rhythm. However, some sacrifices were inevitable: Tamannaah’s Avantika sees a reduced presence, and popular tracks like Manohari have been dropped. Yet these omissions serve a purpose, to streamline the storytelling and focus on the saga’s central emotional spine.

Technically, the film has been significantly enhanced. The makers have upgraded the visuals, lending the frames a richer, more opulent texture. Lighting has been refined, the colour palette deepened, and action sequences, especially the breathtaking avalanche scene in the beginning, appear sharper and more detailed. In IMAX, the scale is staggering; the frames feel tighter and grander, immersing the viewer completely in Rajamouli’s mythical world.

For those who’ve lived through the phenomenon of Baahubali before, this version provides a new reason to revisit it, a cinematic pilgrimage of sorts. For first-time viewers, it stands on its own as a complete and emotionally fulfilling experience. The themes of destiny, betrayal, love, and justice resonate universally, and the hero’s journey remains as stirring as ever.

In the end, Baahubali: The Epic does remarkable fan service, not merely by polishing what we loved, but by uniting it into one glorious whole. It’s the definitive version of Rajamouli’s magnum opus, and even to someone who hasn’t watched the earlier films, it will look and feel like the stuff of legend. And as a bonus, you don’t have to wait for two years to know why Kattappa killed Baahubali.

Also Read: Baahubali The Epic: Advance Bookings Take The Box Office By Storm

Protests broke out at Maharshi Dayanand University in Rohtak after a few women sanitation workers were allegedly forced by their supervisors to undress themselves and get their sanitary napkins photographed to prove that they were menstruating.