Indian cinema has been on a roll lately. Bollywood isn’t the only industry in India to be reckoned with anymore; historical action epics like National Film Award-winning writer-director S. S. Rajamouli’s Telugu-language “RRR” (2022) found themselves turning into money-minting global phenomena. The ‘cinematic universe’ is now all the rage, with Tamil filmmaker Lokesh Kanagaraj’s “Vikram” (2022) and Siddharth Anand’s “Pathaan” (2023) being surprisingly ballsy and star-studded follow-ups to previous installments. Perhaps the most surprising result of this shift, though, is that—because of the monumental scope of Indian cinema breaking linguistic and cultural barriers through global marketing and reach—films like “Baby John” look and feel more like a fish out of water compared to other titles in the release schedule.

Directed by Kalees in his sophomore filmmaking effort since “Kee” (2019), “Baby John”—an official remake of the action thriller “Theri” (Eng.: “Spark,” 2016)— majorly follows its source’s narrative structure. The bones of its story are also really similar here. John D’Silva (Varun Dhawan; “October,” 2018) is a single father and baker living a quiet life in Kerala with his daughter Khushi (Zara Zyanna) and friend/business partner Jackky (Rajpal Yadav; “Chandu Champion,” 2024). However, his life starts to unravel when an unfortunate meeting between D’Silva and a bunch of ne’er-do-wells threatens to open a door of his past life he thought he’d closed shut five years ago.

The similarities between “Theri” and “Baby John” don’t end at the overall narrative structure either; multiple scenes in the 2024 adaptation are almost identical, down to the shot-blocking and overall production design. Keeping this in mind, it’s a no-brainer for someone who’s already seen Atlee’s 2016 original to dismiss this as a shot-by-shot remake of the original. Here’s my counterpoint: Kalees’s adaptation feels more like a director’s cut of the Vijay starrer than a straight-up remake. I’d go one step further and say that it feels like a fully realized world with more narrative pieces than its source did.

Let me explain. “Theri,” while gripping in its own right, is an almost fat-free battle of wits between a cop and a corrupt politician. “Baby John” one-ups this by giving the antagonist a comparably creepier image system. Vanamaamalai’s character (essayed with pitch-perfect competence eight years ago by the late Mahendran) is no longer just a dirty political figure. The Hindi-language version gives us a more fleshed-out, admittedly dark insight into the villain’s malevolent narcissism and god-complex, turning him into this towering, omniscient figure. 

Dubbed “Nanaji” (transl.: grandad) in an ironic perversion of the wise-and-lovable-grandparental-figure imagery the phrase could otherwise evoke, the current revision is written to double down on its roots in systemic misogyny and violence against women. Nanaji’s still an influential political figure, but the skeletons in his closet now include a countrywide sex-trafficking operation, turning his son’s sexual assault of a schoolgoing girl—the linchpin that marks the movie’s second act—into a psychoanalytically devastating commentary on malevolently misogynistic parenting.

Using the frightening worldbuilding of Nanaji’s underground criminal empire, “Baby John” smartly expands upon the structure of “Theri,” using it more as a springboard to propel a relatively sharp commentary on the unending cycle of abduction, sexual assault, and murders of girls and women in India. Like its producer Atlee’s last directorial venture, “Jawan” (2023), its heart continues to burn with the flames of righteous anger against sociopolitical and socioeconomic injustices. While its social message is delivered with the subtlety of a WMD, it wouldn’t have been possible to do it without two of its most important people: Dhawan and Yadav. 

That’s not all. Khushi’s schoolteacher Tara (Wamiqa Gabbi; “Khufiya,” 2023) gets a much-needed evolution from 2016’s Annie, played by Amy Jackson. While their character arcs initially have practically zero difference from either, “Baby John” takes a page out of Farhan Akhtar’s “Don: The Chase Begins Again” (2006)—of Chandra Barot’s 1978 Amitabh Bachchan starrer—and flips the script on her really hard, pivoting from just another love interest to her own fully formed person whose time to shine in a neon-red bathed hallway setpiece probably deserves a separate editorial on the necessity of taking liberties while interpreting a source for your adaptation.

Dhawan, who’s mostly at home playing the charming all-rounder supercop loved by the people who know him, shines brightly in the larger-than-life action setpieces where he transforms into the arbiter of justice in the narrative’s second and third acts. Accompanying him is Yadav, an incredible character actor known chiefly for his presence as the comic relief in movies, whose gut-wrenching monologue in the film’s second act catches you unawares and holds you by the gut, never letting go.

Unfortunately, like with most art, whether or not one resonates with “Baby John” depends heavily on your comfort level with the genre-potboiler that is the masala film. And this one’s got it all: a tragic flashback, a larger-than-life hero, an antagonist he will seek vengeance against, and musical numbers with elaborate choreography and art direction. It’s not as experientially fulfilling or visually symbolic overall as “Jawan” was, and its technical pitfalls—its loud, deteriorating sound mix tends to clip more impassioned dialogues to the point of distortion, which breaks immersion from the otherwise visually striking cinematography—threaten to derail its otherwise decent momentum.

Despite the bumps on the road, “Baby John” is a darn good time out. Along with its primary players—Dhawan, Yadav, Shroff, and Gabbi—acting their hearts out to deliver phenomenally on screen, it also features the stunning Hindi-language debut of Keerthy Suresh, a groovy bunch of singles and action setpieces enhanced by sophomore cinematographer Kiran Koushik’s (“Michael,” 2023) stylistically moody visual flair. It might not feel as lean as “Theri,” but it makes up for it with incredible worldbuilding and an overall aesthetic that feels like an unabashed love letter to Hong Kong action cinema and dramatized Hollywood action in the ‘90s. I dig the vibe.