‘Sardar 2’ movie review: Karthi’s propulsive spy actioner loses steam post intermission

PS Mithran’s ambitious spy thriller is at its best when its intricate plotting meets a well-written emotional core, but the Karthi-starrer struggles to sustain the momentum after the interval

Published - September 10, 2026 05:13 pm IST

Karthi in ‘Sardar 2’. | Photo Credit: Sony Music South/YouTube

Before the opening credits finish rolling, you are airdropped into the thick of action. Secret agent Walrus (Achyuth Kumar) warns another agent, Zara (Malavika Mohanan), that a danger they once encountered now threatens to destroy the entire nation. Before Zara can respond, the villain behind it all—the head of a mercenary group called Black Dagger—arrives, kills Zara, and warns Walrus that he is next. Over the next 90-odd minutes, the story unspools in layers, giving us a front-seat view of a rollercoaster espionage thriller. Actor Karthi and director PS Mithran’s Sardar 2, which serves as both the prequel and sequel to their 2022 spy actioner, is a great example of how an elevated spy-action story must be set up. Every second beats with urgency, every moment peels layers, and every scene increases the stakes.

After the events of Sardar, cop Vijayaprakash aka Viji (Karthi), now works in RAW’s DAS unit, even as his father, the titular agent now branded as a terrorist (also Karthi), is said to have been executed in Northern China. To prove himself to his authorities, Viji intercepts their mission in Mysore to capture Walrus before Black Dagger gets to him. During the mission, a concussed Walrus, in his dying breath, gives Viji a uniquely fashioned knife, believing he is his long-lost colleague Sardar, and urges him to stop the Black Dagger head (SJ Suryah) from unleashing a deadly weapon on the country. Who is this dangerous new villain? What is this weapon, and where is it? And most importantly, is the titular hero really dead?

Writer-director Mithran’s filmography, especially Sardar, is an interesting showcase of how good writing, blocking, and staging can make a film engaging. It also shows how one or two poor sequences can disrupt the immersion and dilute the thrill. And Sardar 2 seems like an oddly symmetrical depiction of this. Scenes move like butter in the first half, seamlessly propelling the story forward (editor Vijay Velukutty deserves praise). The stretch from when Viji learns who Agent Tiger is to the most-awaited flashback moves at breakneck speed and feels so satisfying. Even the inevitable flashback is convincing, making you sit up — a recording plays in two specific locations, one where Viji is and one where the villain is, orchestrated in such a way that the moment the flashback ends, the two are on a collision course.

The flashback itself is a major highlight of the film. Bose (interestingly, just a trainee then) and Zara, in the 1980s, are tasked with retrieving a crucial package from a Japanese plane. It is, on the one hand, a quintessential spy action set-piece, and on the other, the fulcrum that reveals the franchise’s emotional core and defines Sardar’s actions in both films. This is the mission in which Bose becomes Sardar. In this mission, he learns what a moment of kindness can cost and what it takes to be an agent. And this pivotal emotional core is written and fleshed out so beautifully that it almost carries the rest of the film.

And if only the second half had reached such heights, Sardar 2 could have become one of the most satisfying action films of its generation. If only. After the intermission, the film loses steam, especially during an underwhelming scene at a fort. And, at times, it almost seems as if Mithran has exhausted his ideas for writing suspense. The ticking time bomb works only a few times. Here, either the mission inherently has a countdown, or the villain starts a countdown. One scene atop a hijacked vehicle (like the aforementioned Japanese plane) should be enough. Two are too many.

Of course, several ideas work even in the second half — Suryah’s character is revealed to be a sociopath who, in his own twisted, immoral way, fights for a social cause (remember Pakshirajan in 2.0?). It is quite something to see a villain utter socially conscious dialogue, and a scene featuring Suryah, Yogi Babu and Nizhalgal Ravi leaves you in stitches while also conveying a social message as noble as the first film’s call against plastic water bottles and privatisation of water distribution. But again, Mithran could have written more to justify how Suryah’s villain became who he is. Much of his backstory points to a routine revenge arc, and so this sudden turn of events is contrived.