Udita Jhunjhunwala

Heads of State is exactly what it promises: a fast-paced, action-packed buddy comedy that leans into its absurdity with style, big laughs and big action set pieces. Ilya Naishuller directs a script by Harrison Query, John Applebaum and Andre Nemec, which clearly understands the assignment—pair two mismatched but magnetic leads, toss them into a high-stakes international mess, and let the chemistry and chaos unfold. John Cena and Idris Elba headline the action-comedy as two political powerhouses. Cena plays Will Derringer, a former action movie star whose latest job is as President of the United States, while Idris Elba plays Sam Clarke, the current Prime Minister of the UK. The latter’s calm, calculating exterior hides a former life in the British special armed forces, whereas Derringer relies on his celebrity to skate through his tenure. When a diplomatic visit to England almost goes off the rails (over a plate of fish and chips, among things), a little diplomatic engineering provides the perfect photo-op to change the narrative surrounding their public discord. Derringer and Clarke travel on Air Force One together, but things go sideways while they are en route to a NATO meeting in Italy.

More than 30 years ago, Steven Spielberg directed the action adventure Jurassic Park, based on Michael Crichton’s novel about genetic modification, paleontology and the dangers of man meddling with nature. Jurassic Park, the movie, in which velociraptors first darted across our screens and into our nightmares, premiered in 1993, and was a blockbuster. Crichton wrote another novel and Spielberg directed its adaptation. The Lost World: Jurassic Park released in 1997. Neither did Crichton write any more Jurassic Park novels, nor did Spielberg direct further sequels though though he remained on as executive producer for the franchise’s subsequent films—five of them, including the latest instalment: Jurassic World Rebirth.

Danny Boyle’s 2002 film 28 Days Later is widely considered one of the most influential entries in the zombie genre. By stripping out the supernatural and replacing it with a scientifically plausible viral outbreak, Boyle gave the genre a visceral realism. Now, in 28 Years Later (2025), Boyle reengages the genre with his trademark jittery digital aesthetic, matched by Alex Garland’s bleak yet poetic screenplay. (28 Weeks Later, the 2007 sequel was directed by Juan Carlos Fresnadillo, but this new instalment brings the original team back into play.) 28 Years Later isn’t just a sequel; it’s a resurrection—a smart, stylish, and often brutal return to a world that reshaped zombie cinema back in 2002. The post-apocalyptic UK remains in indefinite quarantine, its landscape overrun by the infected. Small uninfected communities survive in isolation. One such pocket is a tiny island off the coast of Scotland, cut off from the mainland and clinging to normalcy. Garland’s script focuses on one family: Jamie (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), his ailing wife Isla (Jodie Comer), and their 12-year-old son Spike (Alfie Williams).

Writer-director Subhadra Mahajan demonstrates remarkable confidence in her debut feature—a lyrical film that explores grief, loss and healing in the spiritual setting of a hill town, characterised by silence and stillness. Set in the Pir Panjal mountains of Himachal Pradesh during winter, the film follows 25-year-old Nia (Dheera Johnson), who takes refuge in her family’s remote summer home after experiencing personal loss. This escape from family, city, and a painful reality offers Nia the opportunity to work through her turmoil and emerge from the darkness. Rather than surrounding Nia with noise or heavy backstory, Mahajan distils the narrative down to essentials. Nia lives alone in the cosy house, blanketing herself from the cold and her own pain, until she begins to forge an unlikely bond with the caretaker Bhemi (Thakri Devi) and her playful grandson Sunny (Kanav Thakur). In spite of class differences, three generations coexist and build human connection through small chores, simple joys, and wordless understanding—spurred by rustic cricket games, local delicacies, and a cute kitten.

The second season of Rana Naidu is more emotional and well-rounded than the first. After a couple of choppy early episodes, the Netflix show offers fuller character arcs that offset the sweeping brutality and heavy use of profanity. The Indian adaptation of the American series Ray Donovan stars Rana Daggubati as a fixer for celebrities, politicians and businessmen. Venkatesh Daggubati is Rana’s chaotic and untamed father Naga. Surveen Chawla plays Naina, who is in a strained marriage with Rana. Sushant Singh and Abhishek Banerjee play Rana’s brothers Tej and Jaffa, respectively. Created by Karan Anshuman for India, the eight-part season is helmed by Anshuman, Suparn S Varma and Abhay Chopra. The new instalment is elevated by the menacing antagonist Rauf, played by Arjun Rampal, who brings a compelling mix of villainy and impenetrability. Rauf is a formidable adversary to Rana, always a few steps ahead and unflinchingly violent.

Fifteen years after the first Housefull movie hit screens in 2010, Housefull 5 arrives with the usual bluster and baloney—big stars, bigger sets, and a plot that makes no sense. In an unusual twist, the climax and the revelation of the killer aboard a luxury cruise liner differ depending on which version of director Tarun Mansukhani’s slapstick comedy you’re watching. But no matter which route you take, the destination remains the same: this film is a colossal waste of time and resources. This fifth instalment of the famously chaotic comedy franchise is louder, glossier, and stacked with an even larger ensemble. You might struggle to name or remember the female characters, but the men are hard to miss. Franchise regulars like Akshay Kumar, Riteish Deshmukh, Chunky Panday (as Aakhri Pasta), Johnny Lever (Batuk Patel), and Ranjeet return, joined by new entrants Fardeen Khan, Jackie Shroff, Nana Patekar, Abhishek Bachchan (previously in Housefull 3), and Sanjay Dutt.

The sixth film in the martial arts franchise that debuted in 1984, Karate Kid: Legends flings open the dojo doors to deliver chops, blocks, and kicks in a nostalgic throwback for fans of the Karate Kid movies. This latest entry, a legacy sequel, deftly combines former franchise stars, elements from the last five films, and updated threads from the Cobra Kai television series, while introducing a new Chinese lead in a familiar underdog-turned-hero arc. But the tropes remain the same. The underdog journey of Daniel LaRusso (Ralph Macchio) in 1984’s The Karate Kid—waxing on and off under Mr. Miyagi (Pat Morita)—is mirrored in a contemporary New York setting, where Chinese student Li Fong must navigate a new world. The franchise has always been about mentorship, honour, and a game-changing final kick—even in the 2010 reboot with Jaden Smith and Jackie Chan, which leaned more into kung fu. Cobra Kai flipped the script, featuring Macchio as LaRusso and giving Johnny Lawrence (William Zabka) a redemptive arc.

The ‘Royal falls for commoner’ trope is not new. In the Netflix show The Royals, creators Rangita Pritish Nandy and Ishita Pritish Nandy take this idea and hand it over to writers who squeeze every drop out of the cliche. On paper, the idea of an heir to an aristocratic house in Rajasthan falling in love with a self-made CEO of a hospitality start-up could have been fun. Add stunning locales, a few clever casting choices and a whole lot of pomp and drama and conflicts and you have the basis for a romantic drama. But that potential is not fully realised in The Royals. The eight-episode series is set in the fictitious Morpur, amidst the crumbling facades and fraying brocades of fading royalty. Playboy and model Aviraaj “Fizzy” Singh (Ishaan Khatter) returns home for the reading of his father’s will. Yuvanath Singh (Milind Soman) – now resting in a garlanded frame (and seen in flashbacks) – is also the father of Digvijay “Diggy” (Vihaan Samat) and Divyaranjini “Jinnie” (Kavya Trehan).