After undergoing various socio-political and cultural controversies, and ups and downs, the new Indian film Sardar Ji-3, has been released globally except its parent country India. This leaves 1.5 billion film lovers deprived of enjoying this comedy feast starring Diljit Dosanjh, one of the most prominent and celebrated stars of India. Interestingly, the reason for this deprivation is that the film’s female lead happens to be the famous Pakistani actress Hania Amir. Other stars in the cast include Neeru Bajwa, Manav Vij, Gulshan Grover, Jasmin Bajwa, Nasir Chinyoti (also Pakistani), Sammy Jonas Heaney, Daniel Khawar, Sapna Pabbi, and Monica Sharma. The project has been directed by Amar Hundal and produced by Gunbir Sigh Sidhu and Manmord Sidhu, while Rakesh Dhawan, Dheeraj Rattan and Manila Rattan teamed up as screenwriters.
Another twist in this cinematic cum political tale is that long before the recently mounting tensions between the two arch-rivals India and Pakistan, the government of Pakistan had banned the screening of Indian films in the country, but as a unique case has permitted this cinema venture to be released in the country’s theatres and cinemas. That is a timely and prudent move by our decision makers on diplomatic and geopolitical fronts and will definitely cement further the ties between Pakistan and the East Punjab [Indian] and its people, especially the Sikh community.
I have always valued and loved the fact that art and culture transcend the political divides, also between Pakistan and India, and hence music and entertainment of both countries are cherished by the people on either side of the border. As the Punjabi diaspora is globally present and has exercised a great impact on broader-spectrum culture, the modern-day Punjabi films, plays and music are considered beyond the restraints of regional and political boundaries.
Linking its roots to the previous two parts, Sardar Ji 3 continues the eccentric saga of the beloved ghost-hunting character Jaggi, portrayed by Diljit Dosanjh. This time, Jaggi finds himself entangled in a bizarre cross-border tale involving supernatural elements, mistaken identities, and an unlikely romance. This time the ghost is bigger and more horrible, and later on, it appears to belong to the dead body of the twin brother of the villain who has hired the psychic pair for getting their castle free from this weird and unearthly presence. It is unbelievable that for many years, the villain has kept the body of his brother inside the castle without any special procedure or treatment in a simple wooden-box. Set against a backdrop of fantasy and farce, the film attempts to blend comedy, action, and fantasy with a touch of patriotic sentiment. The plot weaves in a new twist through the character of a cute girl, which becomes the centre of both the romantic and political drama. However, despite the fresh setting, the storyline remains structurally similar to the earlier installments, leaning heavily on familiar tropes — bumbling heroes, exaggerated and even comic villains, and a chaotic narrative full of comic misunderstandings.
Thematically, Sardaar Ji 3 appears to aim at promoting righteousness and relationship setting aside financial gains and pragmatism. It tries to wrap its message in humour and whimsy, hoping to soften complex realities through cinematic exaggeration. However, this intention is undermined by its lack of depth and over-reliance on slapstick humour. While the film hints at themes like love beyond borders, the absurdity and loud comedy often dilute the emotional and moral potential of the story.
Another theme is the internal conflict of identity and legacy — Jaggi tackles the burden of his own exaggerated legend. The movie plays with the idea of living up to a larger-than-life image, which ironically mirrors Diljit’s own struggle as an actor stuck in a repetitive on-screen persona. Despite some visually engaging moments and high-energy sequences, Sardaar Ji 3 lacks the narrative maturity and character development needed to transform it from a noisy comedy into a meaningful cinematic experience. In the end, it becomes more about gags than growth — both for the character and the actor portraying him.
The plot and script were expected to blend humour, drama, and romance, typical of the Sardar Ji franchise, but this time, the viewers were caught unaware by a loosely woven horror thread in the general fabric of comedy. It would not be unjust to say that the amalgamation of both the mutually diverging elements — humour and horror — unfortunately proved to be counterproductive and marred the individualistic impacts of each of the genres. Moreover, we come across a very sombre and didactic aspect of human life — the evil deeds always bring forth evil outcomes — portrayed through the episode of the ghost in the castle and the people connected to his family and friends or accomplices. However, the teasing feature is that this grave story is confined to 5-10 minutes of dialogues/scenes sunk into the overall atmosphere of the sitcom. It seems that a major twist and climax of the story is just an insignificant incident in its scheme.
It would be grimly unjust not to admire and relate dynamic appearance, awesome dressing style and confident acting of Hania. The songs picturised on her have oodles of her charm, while her performance hypnotises the audience, as do the stunning landscapes. Hania’s dimples, screen presence, the song lyrics, dance steps, and melodies make watching the songs a treat for Pakistani audiences. The only but significant professional lapse in her performance was her poor command over Punjabi dialogue delivery that made the director take help from technology and dubbing in places where needed.
Diljit Dosanjh seems to have reached a creative plateau with his repetitive performance. While his star power remains undeniable and his international fan-base continues to grow, the film exposes a deeper issue — his inability to break free from the repetitive mould he has built over the past decade. Diljit appears to be a prisoner of his own peculiar style, recycling the same brand of slapstick comedy, exaggerated absurdities, and over-the-top antics that once felt charming but now border on monotonous. The comic timing, facial expressions, and character delivery all seem like déjà vu for audiences who have followed him since the original Sardaar Ji.
Despite commercial success in some overseas markets, the film feels creatively stale. There is little evolution in the narrative style or performance depth. What was once viewed as a unique blend of rural charm and urban wit has now become a predictable caricature. The clownish energy, which may have been endearing in the early years, now feels forced — almost as if Diljit is trying to meet the expectations of a role that no longer fits him naturally.
The broader disappointment lies in the fact that Diljit has the talent and the presence to redefine Punjabi cinema, but Sardaar Ji 3 suggests he's stuck in a comfort zone. Instead of exploring new emotional ranges or bolder themes, he seems content repeating a formula that’s well past its prime. As the global Punjabi film industry develops further and audiences become more discerning, actors like Diljit will need to take creative risks or risk becoming parodies of their former selves. Stardom is a gift — but it can become a burden when it resists reinvention.
Switching to Neeru Bajwa, who plays the role of a ghost/witch named Pinky, we must say that she reprises her presence in the series with grace and seasoned charm, she has also done justice to her role with a few scattered deviations and lapses. Playing the role of a strong-willed and magnanimous female or feminine creature, she adds emotional balance to the otherwise chaotic and comedy-driven storyline. Her character acts as both a counterforce and a reality check to Diljit Dosanjh’s over-the-top antics, grounding the narrative in moments of sincerity. While the film largely revolves around supernatural fun and cross-border humour, Neeru brings depth through her expressions and mature screen presence. Though her role isn’t the central arc this time, her contribution adds a layer of continuity and credibility to the franchise. Her final understanding and decision to get aside, sacrifice her overwhelming love, and to bring Noor and Jaggi together adds to the positive emotional flow that runs through the theme of the film.
Winding up, the film is just like a confection — sweet, effervescent, and unpretentious. It embraces its genre tropes joyfully, yet beneath that lies little narrative heft. Performatively, it struggles on Diljit’s enduring appeal and music‑infused humour, which often rescues the experience. The insertion of Sikh spiritual text attempts emotional depth but highlights the film’s tonal fragility. Meanwhile, its political entanglement inadvertently performs a cultural critique: the torn space where art and diplomacy collide.
Muttahir Ahmed Khan is an author, literary critic and educationist, and can be reached at muttahirahmedkhan@gmail.com
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