The most polarizing concept in the broader discussion of art is formalism: the strict adherence to form rather than meaning. On the one hand, its critics have gone as far as to connect its presence as a possible gateway to fascist philosophy—an understandable sentiment, if we’re to consider the works of the Nazi propaganda filmmaker Leni Riefenstahl. On the other hand, multiple examples of art that technically check all the boxes of formalism are instead used to explore, interrogate, and critique themes, structure, and archetypal clichés. “Toxic,” the third film by actor-turned-director Geetu Mohandas (“Moothon;” Eng. Transl.: “The Elder One,” 2019), does exactly this.

Every single trailer for “Toxic” has aggressively sold us a gangs-girls-guns aesthetic, tailored specifically to men looking for an ultraviolent hypermasculine wish-fulfillment fantasy set somewhere in the broader spectrum of the masala movie. Interwoven within the aesthetic is a story of siblings Raya (Yash; the “KGF” film series, 2018-present) and Ganga (Nayanthara; “Jawan,” 2023), an ambitious duo focused on making their mark as legends in crime in late-1940s Goa. Their strategic plans to be a part of the city’s biggest crime family go awry when Raya falls for Nadia (Kiara Advani; “Shershaah”; Eng. Transl.: “Lion-King,” 2021), an elusive, headstrong circus performer.

With “Toxic,” Mohandas has given us cinema of excess in its purest form: a visual extravaganza built to overload your senses, evoking Luhrmann-esque grandeur through the madness of “The Wolf of Wall Street” (2013). At the center of this chaos stands Mohandas’s protagonist, Raya, through whose emotional volatility we witness an Icarus-like character arc of a man who “flew too close to the sun” with his reckless, impulsive decisions, only to keep facing the music of his self-destructive choices. Much of its theme lies in carefully reading between the lines of what on the surface looks like the perfect archetypal testosterone-fueled potboiler.

Like Zack Snyder’s “300” (2007), which plays it straight, except for one tiny gambit that changes the narrative from an endorsement of, to a commentary on narrative spectacle as a weapon for fascist societies, the “Liar’s Dice” director uses the towering presence of its hero to sharply interrogate his reckless and impulsive nature by giving all his emotionally driven choices a variety of damning consequences. The film, as the tagline says, is a “fairytale for grown-ups,” although less in the way Disney reinterpreted the fairytales it adapted, and more the original, darker source material that inspired them.

The visual adherence of “Toxic” to masala movie tropes doesn’t deter its makers from giving it incredible flair in the way only people who love movies would. A smattering of set pieces in Macau are a neon-lit nod to the visual stylings of Wong Kar-wai (“In the Mood for Love,” 2000), with the outlandish gore feeling almost Tarantino-esque in all its viscerality. The film also boasts some of the best action choreography I’ve seen in Indian cinema, propelled to dizzying heights thanks to the dynamic framing and breathless visual movement crafted by cinematographer Rajeev Ravi (“Gangs of Wasseypur,” 2012).

Mohandas also knocks it out of the park by casting women in rather consequential roles. Nayanthara as the crime-boss sister of Raya perfectly balances her stoicism and aggression with human vulnerability. Her brooding persona doesn’t feel phoned in for a single second, with scenes where she stands in the shot and gives someone a look, perfectly selling the mystery and terror she exudes. Kiara Advani is one of the real surprises here as the headstrong Nadia, fully losing herself in a role that shifts from kind to fearlessly vocal to almost insane depending on where her character is in the film’s runtime.

Huma Qureshi (“Army of the Dead,” 2021) is fantastic here, but this was never a surprise; she rarely gives a non-committal performance, and deserves every second of your attention, even when some of her films may not. Tara Sutaria—who’s come a long way from being a Disney Channel India alum—is terrific as the spoilt, mostly doped-up daughter of a drug lord who takes what she wants even if it means pointing the gun at the person in front of her. If there’s only one woman who feels comparatively inconsequential to the story, it is Melissa, played by Rukmini Vasanth. What her character lacks in depth, she makes up for with her dynamic presence, chemistry with Yash, and a dash of incredible comic timing bang in the middle of the film’s second half.

As “Toxic” crescendos to its climax, the movie somehow gets weirder in the best way possible and throws everything and the kitchen sink at us. It’s a great, great ending with an extraordinary twist you will never see coming, purely because of the archetypes of a male-dominated masala film it so strictly adheres to. You see a man dubbed the “Rocking Star” leading a film, and you’d be prone to thinking it’s the latest in a slew of male-dominated mega-budget moneymakers. And yet, it’s this very “Rocking Star” who teamed up with Mohandas to write a story that uses his own star power to critique movies that depend on glorifying it to the high heavens.

If there ever were the perfect way to have your cake and eat it too, it would be this.

If the masala movies were the form, “Toxic” would be the perfect example of formalist self-critique, balancing bombast with the psychoanalysis and interrogation of said bombast. In the film, the hero looks cool committing the most egregious violence but isn’t rewarded with the girl or a ride into the sunset. Instead, we’re presented with a history of violence and excess, and the pound of flesh it will extract from you if you indulge too hard and think you’ll get away scot-free. Highly recommended.