Dharmender

Dharmender’s filmography is a wild little ride through Punjabi cinema that doesn’t always stick to the straight and narrow. You’ve got “Shaunki Sardar” (2025), which—let’s be real—just oozes that swagger you get when a movie decides to crank up everything about loyalty and brotherhood to eleven. The lead character? Total rogue, but in a loveable, “let’s break some rules for the right reasons” kind of way. Expect action, family drama, and a few moments where you’re like, “Oh, he did NOT just do that.” As for “Kirdaar” (2019), well, that’s a different beast. It’s all about those messy, tangled identities people juggle. Not everyone is who they seem, and the lines between good and bad? They’re blurry as hell. There’s this quiet tension, the kind where you know something’s gonna blow up (maybe not literally, but feelings-wise), and you just can’t look away. Now, “Uncommon Courage of Kaur” (2014) came along and flipped the script. It’s gutsy, rooted in real, gritty stories of women who refuse to let the world walk all over them. This isn’t some sugar-coated underdog story. It’s raw, it’s loud, it’s got the kind of scenes where you want to jump up and cheer—or maybe just sit there in awe. Dharmender’s work isn’t about making everyone comfortable. It's about shaking things up, poking at the soft spots in society, and, honestly, making you think twice about what you’d do in those shoes. Bold stuff, top to bottom.