I told Amar Kaushik, ‘If you have a script like that, give me a brutal villain’s role’-Pankaj Tripathi



Onkar Kulkarni (BOMBAY TIMES; August 10, 2026)

Pankaj Tripathi may have built a career playing characters rooted in everyday life, but he is now looking for unfamiliar territory. From wanting to play a brutal villain to returning to theatre after over a decade and producing stories that reflect his worldview, the actor is embracing a new phase in his career.

‘Every middle-class parent is a superhero’
After turning producer last year with eight-episode dramedy Perfect Family, the actor says he’s taking his time to find stories that resonate with him rather than chasing scale or spectacle. He shares, “I’m meeting people and listening to stories. I want to make films based on my taste in storytelling and I’ll do that soon. I don’t like larger-than-life stories because I see humans as humans. I enjoy superhero stories, but they belong in mythology or fantasy. In real life, there are no superheroes — every human is a superhero. Every middle-class parent is a superhero. Those are the kind of relatable stories that attract me.”

‘I want to do fantasy and comedy’
After years of playing relatable, slice-of-life characters, Tripathi says he’s ready to switch gears. He now wants to explore fantasy, comedy and play a truly menacing villain. He says, “I feel that I have done too much of realistic cinema. Now I want to do fantasy and comedy. It’s been too many years since I played a villain. I even called Amar Kaushik (Stree, Bala, Bhediya) and told him, ‘If you have a script like that, give me a brutal villain’s role.’ I want to play a deadly villain. Bohot ho gaya playing slice-of-life characters. For me, Sultan from Gangs of Wasseypur is still my favourite villain. While growing up, I loved watching Amrish Puri.”

‘Real experience is important’
Pankaj, who recently went back to theatre after 12-13 years with the play Lailaaj, believes it offers something screens increasingly cannot. He says, “Our work appears on screens and when we do reels we are on screens. I don’t like video interviews because you’re seen on screen again. Real experience is important — like a print interview. You’re just holding a piece of paper and reading it. Joh printed hai utna hi content hai.”

‘The live experience is something you simply can’t replicate’
Pankaj’s return to theatre was also driven by a desire to experience storytelling without the distractions of the digital world.

The Mimi actor says, “I wanted to go back to theatre because the live experience is something you simply can’t replicate elsewhere. When you read digitally, ek ke upar ek pop-up hoga... janjal hai internet ka. It’s a constant distraction. Ninety per cent of people pick up their phone to do one thing and end up doing something else. I wanted that direct connection between performers and the audience that only a live performance can create.”

When I voiced Adam Sandler, Michael Fassbender or The Professor in Money Heist, my voice remains mine-Ashwin Mushran


Actor and voice artist Ashwin Mushran pulls back the curtain on dubbing blockbusters, studio politics, and surviving off-script pressures
MUMBAI MIRROR (August 8, 2026)

The truth is I rarely get a script before I walk into a dubbing studio. There may be a phone call a few days earlier asking whether I am available, and that is about it. I enter, glance at the script, watch the first scene and begin to understand the character as I perform. You have to adapt immediately.

If you are new, you will probably test for every part. After years in the business, studios know what your voice can do. Sometimes they call because they can already hear you as that character. I never expected any of this. I always knew I would become an actor. Voice work happened by accident after I returned from Drama Studio London. Commercials and corporate narrations kept coming, the money became substantial, and it became a parallel profession — as important as acting.

Inside the booth
Unlike sets, a dubbing room is surprisingly solitary. It is usually me with the mic, while the dubbing director and two audio engineers sit in the engineering room. We discuss interpretations and sometimes disagree. Ultimately, the director has the final say for good reason. As voice actors, we rarely watch the film or series. We see our sections. The director has the full picture.

What many get wrong about dubbing is that a voice actor must imitate the actors. Not true. When I voiced Adam Sandler, Michael Fassbender or The Professor in Money Heist, my voice remains mine. What matters is whether it belongs convincingly to the face on screen.

I have to match emotion, rhythm, breath and, crucially, time. A line has only so many seconds available. Yet I can add an inflection, a sigh or a small sound that strengthens the performance.

A voice as a character
Voice actors have one freedom screen actors often lack. Our faces do not restrict us. I can use a deeper or higher voice, and animation expands that range further.

I once got called to voice a Spider-Man trailer for Doctor Strange because Mohan Kapur, the actor who usually voiced him was abroad. I messaged him to explain that I was only doing the trailer and hoped he would return for the film. I did not want to take his character. Then there is The Professor. After 48 episodes of Money Heist, I felt I knew him inside out. I suspect Indian audiences would find another voice on him strange.

A changing business
Streaming transformed the business. Shows now appear in several languages, which has created work for established artists and opened doors for new ones. Sacred Games, for which I dubbed Saif Ali Khan’s character in English, was an early example. There is also far more training available. Most of the big dubbing studios run programmes, there are excellent independent voice coaches, and much of it is accessible online. When I started, none of that existed. I learnt on the job, session by session. Today, I’m a voice and body language coach myself and run a programme called Million Dollar Presence.

AI poses a different question. Early synthetic voices were easy to identify. They are becoming alarmingly good. A lot of the middle-tier voice work we once did has already disappeared because some brands ask why they should pay an artist when they can generate a voice themselves. Emotion does not always matter to them. They simply need a voiceover.

Dubbing will take longer, but I can see AI entering that space. I suspect human voices will be licensed because the technology still needs them. The crucial question is whether performers will be paid and protected. In India, adequate safeguards for actors’ voices remain a concern. Someone does not need my face or even my presence to reproduce what I do.

After more than 20 years, the profession has also ruined television for me. After years behind a mic, you can hear what has been done well, and what hasn’t. In the studio, if a breath hits wrongly, there is a click or an odd sound — I will take the line again. Because the audience may never spot the difference. But I will.

Interim relief for Parmanu producer Ajay Kapoor, wife in Rs. 17 cr cheating case


John Abraham with producer Ajay Kapoor

Ahmed Ali (THE TIMES OF INDIA; August 8, 2026)

Mumbai: A sessions court has granted interim protection from arrest to film producer Ajay Kapoor, who has backed movies like Parmanu: The Story of Pokhran, RAW (Romeo Akbar Walter), Attack, and his wife, Ekta Kapoor, in a cheating case registered by the Economic Offences Wing (EOW) over alleged non-payment of more than Rs 17.70 crore to a company owned by politician-turned-real estate businessman Mohit Bhartiya alias Kambhoj. Additional Sessions Judge V R Jagdale observed that both applicants had appeared before the EOW and were partly cooperating with the investigation, while hearing their anticipatory bail plea.

The case arises from an FIR lodged by Sukumar Shetty, Bhartiya’s real estate manager, at Santacruz police station. Since the alleged fraud exceeded Rs 10 crore, the investigation was transferred to the EOW.

According to the complaint, the dispute relates to Kamboj Palace, formerly Khushi Belmondo Building, on Vallabhbhai Road in Santacruz (West). The building, developed by Hiral Classic Properties Pvt Ltd, received its occupation certificate in 2013, while a condominium of nine members comprising 13 apartments was formed in 2017. Bhartiya purchased four flats in the building in 2016, while the Kapoor couple jointly bought four flats in 2017.

Following a dispute over alleged unauthorized construction in 2022, the condominium appointed Bhartiya to undertake regularization, with costs to be shared proportionately by apartment owners. The complaint states that members also agreed to sell their flats to Bhartiya on mutually agreed terms, with 18% annual interest payable on outstanding regularization dues if transactions were delayed.

The Kapoor couple’s share towards regularization was pegged at Rs 5.83 crore, while their liability towards renovation, repairs and civil works was estimated at Rs 8.09 crore. Including interest from Nov 2022 to June 2026, the amount allegedly due exceeded Rs 17.70 crore. The complaint alleges the couple neither sold their flats nor reimbursed the expenses incurred on their behalf.

After 6 decades, Remo Fernandes signs off from live acts


Lisa Monteiro (THE TIMES OF INDIA; August 5, 2026)

Panaji: A guitar. A high chair. A final bow. Remo Fernandes fuelled his career with restless energy, cross-language hits and a stage presence that couldn’t sit still. His closing act came sitting down.

Indian pop-rock’s road warrior called time on his concert career at 73 and ended a 6-decade run with a live performance in London, saying he could no longer give audiences “100%” of himself.

Known for prowling every inch of a stage, Remo sang Sunday night’s show at a UK-Goan festival seated on a high chair, delivering favourites in English, Konkani, Portuguese, Hindi and French. The audience responded with thunderous applause, singing along to “Humma Humma”, “O Meri Munni”, “Maria Pitache” and even requesting “Pyaar To Hona Hi Thaa”.

“I’m used to moving around the stage. It was extremely constricting and limiting doing a show sitting on a high chair. Besides, in that crouching position, my lungs felt restricted for singing,” he told TOI over the phone from UK.

The Padma Shri recipient said he would not continue with seated performances. “I feel I’ll be cheating on my audience and myself if I’m not able to give 100% of myself.”

Remo said a mild stroke after his third Covid vaccination affected movement of his fingers. Persistent vertigo, worsened by a fall that required surgery, has left doctors advising him against performing standing up because of the risk of another fall.

Calling time on live concerts leaves him with mixed emotions. “On the one hand, I’m happy as I’m tired of performing... on the other hand, I guess I’ll miss it sometimes.”

His journey began at age 5 in then Portuguese-governed Goa, singing a Portuguese waltz with a banjo in Panaji. By 14, he was writing love songs. Architecture studies in Mumbai led to Indo-Western experimentation before hitchhiking across Europe and North Africa, busking, writing songs and poems, and eventually returning to Goa.

Remo went on to become one of India’s biggest-selling rock musicians before crossing into Hindi pop and film music, earning gold, platinum and double-platinum records, winning international honours and sharing stages with Jethro Tull, Led Zeppelin, Queen, Zakir Hussain, Trilok Gurtu and Eurythmics.

Now dividing his time between Portugal and Goa, he says there is no new project on the horizon after completing his autobiography and an opera on Mother Teresa. Instead, he hopes to spend his days reading, travelling and watching films. “Goa is home, however spoiled it is... my home in Siolim keeps bringing me back.”

No farewell tour. No curtain call stretched out over months. Just one final concert in London. Remo played his last live set. His music still soared. His feet stayed still.

Sometimes you had to sing the same jingle in 14 different languages-Kavita Krishnamurti

Violinist L Subramaniam with wife Kavita Krishnamurti. Pic/Jatin Kampani
Violinist L Subramaniam with wife Kavita Krishnamurti. Pic/Jatin Kampani

Fresh from singing Sanskrit shlokas with a Kazakh choir, Kavita Krishnamurti looks back on the jingles, studios and songs that shaped five decades of music
Soumya Vajpayee (MUMBAI MIRROR; August 4, 2026)

“We sang Sanskrit shlokas with a Kazakh choir. That was really special,” says Kavita Krishnamurti, still sounding delighted by the memory. “They wanted me to sing a couple of film songs too, and they enjoyed those. Their own dancers even performed to my husband’s violin concerto.”

The performance came during the Lakshminarayana Global Music Festival, founded by violinist L Subramaniam in memory of his father. Invited by the Astana Symphony Philharmonic, the couple spent 10 days performing in Aktobe, Kostanay, Kokshetau and Astana, presenting everything from Indian classical compositions to Hindi film music.

One of the highlights was Navagraha Symphony, built around the nine planets. “We did five planets on Sanskrit shlokas, and their choir sang the Sanskrit with me,” she says. “It became a beautiful musical exchange.”

Away from the concert hall, Kazakhstan left an equally deep impression. “They have wonderful folk music, with dombras and beautiful percussion instruments. Their music feels close to nature. It reminds you of mountains and rivers. We hope to collaborate with the orchestra again.”

Bombay, jingles and a masterclass in speed
“It has been almost 54 years since I entered the profession,” says the singer, whose first film recordings date back to the early 1970s. Yet before Bollywood came the world of advertising, where she became one of India’s most recognizable jingle voices.

“The post-college years, when I was singing jingles, were among the happiest of my life. We worked very hard, but everyone felt like family.”

That phase, she believes, shaped her more than any award ever could.

“Sometimes you had to sing the same jingle in 14 different languages. The writers would stand around you, everyone watching the clock, and you had to switch instantly from one language to another.”

The pace taught discipline. “You learnt how to hit the very first word, how to emphasize the product name and still keep the emotion. It became an excellent training ground for film songs.”

The Nirma jingle remains the one audiences mention most often, although another composition still surprises her. “People also remember a literacy campaign song, Poorab se surya ugaa..., composed by Ashok Patki. Many tell me they still remember it.”

The songs chose her
Krishnamurti’s catalogue spans romantic ballads, classical pieces, qawwalis and dance numbers, but she insists it was never part of a career plan.

“I didn’t choose to be versatile,” she says. “Initially, romantic songs didn’t come my way. Then Hawa Hawai happened and suddenly I was offered many energetic songs. Later came Saudagar and romantic music.”

Working with hundreds of composers, she says, naturally expanded her range. “Every music director expected something different. Singing in different styles and different pitches probably made me versatile.”

What music has gained and lost
The biggest change, she believes, lies in the recording studio. “We used to record live with 100 or even 120 musicians. Those six or seven minutes had to be perfect because there was very little that could be corrected later.”

Digital recording has made music technically flawless, she says, but something else has faded. “I feel the emotional approach was much stronger then. I also miss the meaningful lyrics and the way actors performed songs through lip-sync. When Madhuri Dixit, Sridevi or Shabana Azmi appeared on screen, the songs acquired another life.”

Although Mumbai remains home, Krishnamurti believes the city’s aspiring singers can no longer depend solely on Bollywood. “There are so many talented singers today, but only a few can break into films. I pray independent music becomes much bigger in India, because then artists can build careers through their own music.”

She stops short of offering advice to younger singers. Instead, she wishes they had the opportunities her generation enjoyed. “I only wish there were composers like R D Burman, Laxmikant-Pyarelal, OP Nayyar or Naushad creating those kinds of songs for them.”

If her music continues to thrive on streaming platforms and social media, she sees it as proof that melody has a longer life than technology. “Good melody, good lyrics and good singing cannot disappear from people’s hearts.”

More than five decades after she first stepped into a recording studio, Krishnamurti is still finding new audiences, whether in Mumbai or halfway across the world with a Kazakh choir singing Sanskrit. For a singer whose career began in Bombay’s jingle studios, it is a reminder that music has always travelled farther than language.

By 2027, I’ll be comfortably and fully transitioned-Sushant Divgikar


Debarati S Sen (BOMBAY TIMES; August 3, 2026)

For years, Sushant Divgikar has been one of India's most visible voices for LGBTQIA+ rights and self-expression. In this deeply emotional interview, the singer, performer and activist opens up for the very first time about beginning her medical transition, months of consultations with doctors, starting hormone replacement therapy, and why this journey has been the greatest gift she has ever given herself. Excerpts...

You have spoken about living authentically for years, but choosing to medically transition is a tough and irreversible decision. What was the emotional journey that finally brought you to this moment?
I had been considering it for a very long time and was in talks with my doctors. The first thing I did was consult mental health professionals because these processes are irreversible, and I needed to know that I was absolutely sure. I am doing this for me, and I didn't want this big decision to be influenced by what people would think. After a lot of deliberation, my doctors told me I was ready for HRT (Hormone Replacement Therapy). They studied my behavioural patterns, my body and my hormonal profile. Once everyone gave me the green signal, I knew I was ready. I'm now about five months into hormone replacement therapy and so far, everything is going well.

You were planning to transition earlier, so what delayed the process?
There were multiple reasons. I was doing Thank You For Coming, and they wanted me to look like a man. I really felt very dysphoric. Honestly, this is the first time I'm sharing this publicly. I was supposed to transition in 2023, but I put it on hold because of the film. Then I had a couple of health scares. My liver and blood profile weren’t good, and I was diagnosed with anaemia and iron deficiency. So, I had to take a pause. When I finally got the green signal from everyone, I was the most ecstatic and said…let's do this. By 2027, I think I'll be comfortably and fully transitioned. I turned a year older on July 2 and this is probably the best birthday gift I could have given myself. I will be changing to Rani Sushant Divgikar. I will keep my birth name and surname as part of my name going forward because my parents named me Sushant and I will always be their Sushu and I will keep my name Rani because the people chose me as their queen and gave me so much love as Rani.

Many transgender people carry the weight of wondering, 'What if I had done this sooner?' Did you ever struggle with those thoughts, and how have you made peace with your own timeline?
I actually told my psychiatrist Dr Armaan Pandey that sometimes I feel I should have transitioned earlier. He said something beautiful. He told me, "The fact that you could live two genders in one life, how many people get to do that?" I completely agreed. I even told my mother jokingly that maybe my body would have been fitter had I transitioned younger. Honestly, I don't think I've ever been fitter or looked more gorgeous. I think it's this inner glow that's translating to my outer self. People like Saisha Shinde, who transitioned in her 40s, have shown us that it's never about age.

As a singer, your voice is more than just your identity. Was losing your voice ever one of your biggest fears?
That’s one thing I asked my doctor, whether my voice would change. A lot of people think estrogen changes your voice, but that's a misconception. When you transition from female to male, your voice changes because of the testosterone. But when it's from male to female, your voice doesn't change. I'm thankful because I would never want to lose this voice. God has given me this beautiful gift, and I want to keep performing till my last day.

What would you like to tell people who are contemplating transitioning?
I want the community to know one thing - it's never too late. Nobody's paying your bills. When you're lying on that hospital bed, whether it's for a surgery, a cancer scare or anything else, it's you. Even if there are people who love you, at the end of the day, it's your life. So do it for you. I just want to tell every person who's deliberating and contemplating transitioning - do it only and only for you, and do it at your own time.

What changes have you experienced over the past few months, both physically and emotionally due to your hormone replacement therapy?
My breasts are growing. The testosterone blockers bring my testosterone levels almost down to zero, and I take estrogen tablets every day. When your body is introduced to estrogen, it naturally starts becoming more feminine. Your skin becomes softer and your body changes.

People think I’m always out doing something exciting, but I enjoy simple things-Disha Patani


Onkar Kulkarni (MUMBAI MIRROR; August 3, 2026)

From gravity-defying action sequences to high-octane entertainers, Disha Patani has carved a niche for herself as one of Bollywood’s fittest and most physically agile actors. Whether it’s performing demanding stunts in films like Malang, Yodha and Kalki 2898 AD or pushing herself with intense training routines, fitness has become inseparable from her on-screen persona. But away from the glamour and perfectly curated social media posts, Disha says her relationship with fitness is far more personal than people assume.

“Fitness has never been about looking a certain way,” she says, dismissing the notion that exercise is driven by aesthetics. “It’s something I genuinely enjoy and it’s become part of my routine over the years. I don’t work out to fit some mould or prototype. I work out to feel joy.”

For the actor, the benefits extend well beyond the physical. “It makes me feel stronger, gives me more energy and also helps me mentally. A lot of the action work I do wouldn’t be possible if I wasn’t training consistently,” she says, adding that her demanding film choices require her to stay in top form year-round.

Despite cultivating an image of an adrenaline junkie through her films and workout videos, Disha insists her off-screen personality is surprisingly low-key. “If someone spent 24 hours with me with no cameras around, they’d probably discover that I’m actually very quiet,” she says with a smile. “People think I’m always out doing something exciting, but I enjoy simple things. I love spending time with my pets, working out, watching shows or just staying at home.”

For an actor often associated with glamour, action and social media buzz, it’s a side of Disha that rarely makes headlines —one where home, pets and quiet evenings are just as fulfilling as the high-octane world audiences see on screen.

World knew him as Dev Anand’s son. I knew him as Suneil sir, says Chargesheet actor Anish Vikramaditya


Tanvi J Trivedi (MUMBAI MIRROR; August 3, 2026)

Actor-filmmaker Suneil Anand, who passed away on July 26 at the age of 70 following a heart attack in London, leaves behind not just the legacy of being Dev Anand’s son, but also memories of a man who was remembered for his humility and compassion. Actor Anish Vikramaditya, who shared an 18-year friendship with Suneil Anand, said, “The world knew him as Dev Anand’s son. I knew him as Suneil sir.”

The two first met in 2008 during the making of Dev Anand’s film Chargesheet, where Anish played the hero.

He shared, “There was absolutely no trace of arrogance despite belonging to one of Indian cinema’s most respected families. Suniel sir treated everyone — from technicians to senior industry personalities — with the same respect.”

Anish also credits Suneil with giving him an identity that remains one of the proudest moments of his career. “It was during Chargesheet that he suggested the screen name ‘Anish Vikramaditya’ for me, and Dev Sahab approved it. That remains one of the greatest honours of my life.”

Their last conversation took place on June 30, when Suneil spoke enthusiastically about his upcoming film Vagator Mixer. “‘I am just completing it and I am coming back. I have made a great film,’ he told me. We didn’t speak after that,” said Anish.

According to Anish, Suneil’s greatest quality was his integrity. “I personally saw influential people make him lucrative offers, but if something went against his principles, he simply refused. No amount of money or influence could make him compromise his values.”

One of Anish’s most cherished memories is watching Suneil care for his father, during the Chargesheet schedule in Mahabaleshwar. “He personally ensured Dev Sahab took his medicines on time and looked after every small detail himself. Those responsibilities could have been delegated, but he did everything out of love.”

The last photograph they took together has now become one of Anish’s most treasured possessions. “Outside his Pali Hill residence, beside the Padma Bhushan Dev Anand Road sign, I requested Suneil sir for the photographs, as we were standing beside the Padma Bhushan Dev Anand Road sign, which was very meaningful to both of us. With his characteristic warmth, he kindly took my phone and clicked a few individual photographs of me before we took our selfie together. I never imagined it would become our last photograph.”

100 years of Masoom Raza: Man who brought epic Mahabharat to drawing rooms


Mohammed Wajihuddin (THE TIMES OF INDIA; August 1, 2026)

Mumbai: One afternoon in 1988, young actor Surendra Pal Singh reached producer-director B R Chopra’s Juhu office. Chopra wanted to cast him as Dronacharya in his soon-to-be-launched television serial Mahabharat.

Singh, however, did not want to play the “boodha” (old man) Dronacharya and walked out of the office. Chopra called him back. Sitting in a corner of the office was veteran novelist, poet and scriptwriter Rahi Masoom Raza (1927-1992), chewing paan.

“When I said I wouldn’t play the old man Dronacharya, Rahi sahab flared up. Clearing his throat after spitting out the juicy paan, he said in a commanding voice: ‘Young man, Dronacharya is an army general and you will not regret playing him.’”

Singh never regretted taking up the role. Mahabharat went on to capture India’s imagination, earning millions for Chopra and turning Raza and several actors into household names.

“Even today at airports, people call me Mahabharat’s Dronacharya. Rahi sahab was a great writer and a nice human being,” said Singh, now a popular actor.

As Rahi’s centenary begins, admirers from the worlds of literature and entertainment are planning a series of commemorative programmes.

The celebrations will also correct a major error in Raza’s biography. “Some people wrongly wrote Rahi’s birthday as September 1, 1927, and it stuck. Research shows Aug 1, 1927, was his birthday. Through our year-long programmes, we are also rectifying this mistake,” said Ather Farouqui, general secretary of Anjuman Taraqqi Urdu (Hind), Delhi.

The organization plans to publish Raza’s major works, including his landmark novel Adha Gaon (Half Village), originally written in Urdu. Due to the politics of the time, Raza’s friend Kunwar Pal Singh published Adha Gaon in Nagari (also called Devanagari) in 1966.

Set in Gangauli village of Ghazipur in eastern Uttar Pradesh, the novel was among the first Urdu works to explore the lives of Shia Muslims during the tumultuous period of Partition in 1947.

An ad hoc Urdu lecturer at Aligarh Muslim University (AMU), Raza was forced to leave Aligarh after he married the wife of an army officer related to the Nawab of Rampur. Using his influence in AMU’s Urdu department, the Nawab ensured that Raza left Aligarh. AMU’s loss was Mumbai’s gain.

Besides Mahabharat, Jagjit Singh’s composition and rendition 'Hum To Hain Pardes Mein, Desh Mein Nikla Hoga Chand' remains among Raza’s many memorable songs and ghazals.

“If Mahabharat became an integral part of our lives, ‘Hum To Hain Pardes Mein...’ is a popular idiom,” said Asif Azmi of Maati, a cultural organisation that is also beginning Raza’s year-long centenary celebrations today.

Fenil's Bollywood Talk # 950


TOXIC CRASHES AND HOW; HANUMAN ANSH SCORES AND HOW!

The last week has been very dramatic for the industry and those following the box office. Toxic, which released with loads of expectations, has emerged as a huge debacle. Meanwhile, Hanuman Ansh has become an out-of-syllabus blockbuster that no one saw coming.

Toxic’s Hindi version opened at Rs. 53.50 crores. Hence, it broke the record of the Hindi version of KGF - Chapter 2’s Hindi version, which was Rs. 52.50 crores. But the word of mouth was very poor and its effect was visible on the second day. On Thursday, August 27, the film collected just Rs. 22 crores. The collections were expected to grow on Friday, Raksha Bandhan. Instead, the film further fell and earned Rs. 18.50 crores. The Saturday and Sunday collections were Rs. 14.75 crores and Rs. 14 crores respectively.

On Monday, Toxic’s Hindi version crashed as it collected Rs. 4.25 crores. It got a limited advantage of the discounted Tuesday offer, when it collected Rs. 4.50 crores. Until Tuesday, the film has collected Rs. 131.50 crores and its extended first week earnings should be around Rs. 137 crores.

Toxic faces competition not just from Hanuman Ansh, but also from Mirzapur The Movie, which arrives tomorrow, and which has strong advances. Hence, it’ll struggle to collect even cross the Rs. 150 crore mark.

As for Hanuman Ansh, it released on August 7 and collected a mere Rs. 90 lakhs in its first week. The earnings dropped to Rs. 47 lakhs in Week 2. However, it began to miraculously jump from its third Friday. The week 3 collections were a solid Rs. 10.13 crores.

Then, there was no looking back. It earned Rs. 6.25 crores on its fourth Friday, that is, on August 28. The collections jumped to Rs. 9.25 crores on Saturday and Rs. 12 crores on Sunday. The film was rock-steady on Monday with collections of Rs. 5 crores. On Tuesday, the discounted ticket effect was significant, as it accumulated Rs. 8 crores. On Wednesday, films see a sharp drop as so many viewers ended up watching films on Tuesday to take advantage of the cheap tickets. But Hanuman Ansh did the unthinkable. It collected Rs. 7 crores, which was more than its Monday earnings.

The fourth week collections are expected to be around Rs. 52-53 crores. For a film that collected just Rs. 1.37 crore in the first two weeks, this is historic. The total collections will be around Rs. 64.50 crores at the end of this week.

It now remains to be seen where Hanuman Ansh goes from here. The coming weekend will also be strong. At the same time, it’ll face competition from Mirzapur The Movie. Though it belongs to a different genre, it’ll take away shows and that can impact the devotional film’s run to some extent.