When I walked into the theatre to watch Aaryan, directed by Praveen, I genuinely hoped for a sharp thriller – one that uses tension, mystery, and emotional stakes to keep me hooked. The opening actually made me believe that might happen. The movie begins with a popular live television program airing live, and within minutes, chaos erupts. A seemingly ordinary viewer storms onto the set with a gun, takes control of the show, and shocks everyone by shooting himself on air. Before dying, he delivers a cryptic and dramatic warning: “Just like me, five people will die one after another. If you can, find out who they are and save them.”
It’s an exciting hook. The kind of setup that promises high stakes, clever detective work, and a gripping narrative. But unfortunately, that promise slips away faster than the plot can establish itself.
A Premise With Potential, Executed With Poor Judgment
From this incident, a special officer – our hero – is appointed to investigate. The story should ideally follow him as he pieces together clues, uncovers secrets, and races against time. But within the first half hour itself, I realised something crucial: Aaryan had chosen the completely wrong story to tell – or at least chosen the right one but told it in the worst possible way.
The film wants us to care about five people who are supposed to die within seven days. But the screenplay never introduces who these five individuals actually are. We don’t know their personalities, their pasts, their struggles, or even why we should emotionally invest in their lives. So when they start dying one by one, I felt… nothing. Whether they lived or died seemed irrelevant simply because the film gave me no reason to care.
This lack of emotional connection is the single biggest crack in the foundation, and it keeps widening as the movie progresses.
The Weak Motive That Breaks the Entire Plot
Naturally, I kept watching, hoping the payoff would be strong. At least, I thought, the film might reveal a compelling reason behind these killings – something solid, something clever, something that justifies the entire chase.
Instead, when the big reveal finally arrived, I couldn’t help laughing out loud. The motive is so absurd, so shockingly shallow, that it undermines every ounce of seriousness the movie tries to build. The victims are portrayed as highly important members of society, supposedly suffering deeply. One of them is even a retired military officer – someone who would realistically receive a monthly pension between ₹50,000 and ₹1,00,000. Yet the film shows him struggling in ways that don’t align with reality.
To make things stranger, a major supporting character claims he has known these five people for ten years and has watched them struggle all this time. Which immediately raises the question: If he cared so much, why didn’t he help them at any point in those ten years?
It’s these glaring logical holes that make the film’s emotional core feel hollow.
A Thriller Without a Villain Is Like a Fight Without an Opponent
Another major flaw is the absence of a strong antagonist. Every good thriller needs a villain with weight, presence, and purpose. But here, there is no real villain at all. The hero ends up fighting – almost literally – thin air. Without a compelling opposing force, the narrative feels directionless and limp.
This ultimately highlights what I felt from early on: the film built itself on a fundamentally misguided story choice. When the foundation itself is flawed, no amount of twists, action scenes, or emotional monologues can save the structure.
Final Verdict
Aaryan had the potential to be a tense, engaging thriller, but it never rises above its weak writing and illogical character motivations. The story selection is misguided, the emotional stakes never land, and the climax collapses under the weight of its own absurdity.
Rating: 2/5
