Bollywood’s Identity Crisis and the Pressure to “Prove It Again”

There was a time when a film’s failure was just one bad Friday. Now, it’s a full-blown identity crisis. Every Friday has started feeling like a verdict on a career, a legacy, and sometimes, the future of an entire genre.

Something broke in Bollywood after COVID. Not just its box office rhythm, but its continuity. Earlier, one success could carry you through a few flops. Today, one flop erases years of goodwill. Every release is treated like a comeback, even for those who never really left.

THE FEAR OF FORGETTING

The new anxiety in the industry isn’t competition, it’s irrelevance. The audience’s memory has shortened to a tweet’s lifespan. OTT has conditioned them to consume, move on, and rarely look back. That’s why every project now feels like an act of reintroduction.

When Ajay Devgn delivers a Shaitaan (₹211 crore on word-of-mouth), he’s “back in form.” But when Auron Mein Kahan Dum Tha and Azaad crash under ₹15 crore combined, the same man suddenly becomes “past his prime.” Then Raid 2 redeems him with ₹243 crore, and the cycle resets again. It’s not inconsistency; it’s the new volatility. The audience no longer remembers your last decade but just the last Friday. THE COLLAPSE OF CONSISTENCY Once, a star’s career had rhythm with highs, lows, and recoveries. Now, there’s no middle ground. A film either explodes like Mahavtar Narsimha or disappears like War 2.

Akshay Kumar, who, from Toilet Ek Prem Katha to Good Newwz, was Bollywood’s most bankable name, now finds himself chasing his own shadow. Kesari Chapter 2 made ₹125 crore (worldwide) but is labeled below average because expectations were larger. Housefull 5 does ₹160 crores, so the comeback happens, but then Jolly LLB 3 underperforms, so he is not! How can someone who never stopped working keep “coming back”? Even Shah Rukh Khan’s roaring return with Pathaan and Jawan didn’t buy him peace. Dunki earned well but still carried the asterisk that it's “not as big as Jawan.” When the benchmark for success keeps rising, stability becomes impossible.

THE AGE OF OVERCOMPENSATION

Because everyone’s scared, everyone’s overcompensating. Marketing is now a performance of desperation. Every film releases with 50 influencer collabs, five teasers, and one “leaked” clip. Everyone claims to be “redefining themselves.”

But fatigue has set in. Viewers can sense when the campaign matters more than the content. Bade Miyan Chote Miyan spammed YouTube shorts and brand tie-ups, yet collapsed under ₹60 crore lifetime. Mr. & Mrs. Mahi trended for weeks on Reels, but fizzled after the opening weekend. Meanwhile, Munjya and Stree 2 proved what Shaitaan and Jawan once did, that mystery, not noise, still sells.

Even Sikandar, Salman Khan’s big EID spectacle, couldn’t ride the festival magic. The EID supremacy that once guaranteed ₹200 crore weekends now barely crosses half that. Audiences have evolved, but Bollywood’s marketing still screams like it’s 2015.

THE LOST MIDDLE

The middle zone (the safe ₹70–₹100 crore hit) has vanished. There’s no Hindi Medium or Badhaai Ho moment anymore. Films either go ballistic or vanish by Monday.

That’s why every script is written like a resurrection. Ajay bounces from horror (Shaitaan) to period drama (Azaad) to crime thriller (Raid 2), trying to hit a nerve. Akshay swings between social drama, biopic, and courtroom satire. Ranveer pivots from Cirkus to the dark, rebellious Dhurandhar. These shifts aren’t evolution but survival. When every film could define your relevance, experimentation turns into anxiety.

Female-led films, meanwhile, bear double the weight. After Gangubai Kathiawadi’s success, the expectation was that women-driven cinema had arrived. But Tejas, Mrs. Chatterjee vs Norway, and even Alia’s own Jigra, none managed to build on that momentum.

THE AUDIENCE HAS CHANGED BUT THE INDUSTRY HASN’T

Today’s audience doesn’t worship brands; they reward belief. They’ll show up for 12th Fail or Shaitaan if it feels genuine. They’ll skip a War 2 if it feels algorithmic.

But Bollywood still mistakes attention for affection. It keeps shouting louder, thinking noise equals nostalgia. In doing so, it’s turned every actor into a contestant, every Friday into a final exam.

And the irony is: the audience isn’t even asking for comebacks, they’re asking for connection.

THE REAL COMEBACK WE NEED

It’s not the stars who need a comeback.

It’s the industry.

A comeback from formulas.

From fatigue.

From the illusion that scale replaces soul.

Because the audience hasn’t abandoned Bollywood, they’ve just stopped trusting it to surprise them. And the day a film does that, quietly and confidently, the theatre will fill again. Something that a Saiyaara did perfectly!

Not for a “return.”

Not for a “re-invention.”

But for the simple, old-fashioned joy of watching a good story well told.

Because maybe the only true comeback left… is cinema itself.