As another year ends, so comes the time for a new best of the year list.
Each of the ten movies we selected for the Best Bollywood movies of 2024 list resonated with the public for different reasons. Some emphasized characters’ private journeys, while others honed in on wide-ranging societal issues like fairness or belonging. Though each movie stands apart in genre, tone, and scale, they collectively underscore the continued evolution and complexity of contemporary Hindi cinema.
Certain productions experimented boldly with structure, while others relied on believable portrayals of everyday life. Regardless of the approach, these ten films collectively explored universal topics such as personal fulfillment, the bonds among communities, and the interplay between age-old traditions and contemporary values.
Girls Will Be Girls (2024)
Girls Will Be Girls follows three young students in a school perched amid scenic hills, painting a vivid portrait of the anxiety, camaraderie, and discovery characteristic of teenage life. Directed by Shuchi Talati, it stays away from over-the-top portrayals of adolescents. Instead, the film offers a quietly realistic glimpse into their daily existence, covering challenges like lengthy homework sessions, doubts about personal worth, and the shift from childhood innocence to early maturity.
Many teen-centric movies focus heavily on sudden infatuations or exaggerated rivalries. Here, though, the narrative emphasizes subtle moments of growth. For instance, a tense exchange between dormmates might eventually give way to an unexpected show of kindness, underscoring how fragile teenage bonds can be. Teachers also factor significantly into the plot, such as the educator played by Kani Kusruti (where she is credited elsewhere), who combines a firm classroom demeanor with an intuitive grasp of her students’ inner turmoil.
Amid the academic competition, distractions pop up. Some students worry about meeting high parental aspirations, while others are burdened by self-imposed standards. Kajol Chugh stands out as a teenager whose timidity shields a fierce wish to excel, while Preeti Panigrahi exudes a spirited air and nudges the group to challenge preconceptions about what “good behavior” should look like for young women in a regulated school setting.
Director Shuchi Talati’s deliberate pacing allows viewers to observe how small day-to-day occurrences can significantly influence these young characters’ sense of who they are. Scenes set on the campus at dusk, or in shared study sessions, reinforce the notion that adolescence is laden with private reflection. Natural lighting and gentle soundtrack choices spotlight each student’s incremental shifts in confidence, or the refreshing sense of relief that arises from an unexpected word of encouragement.
By focusing on how friendships evolve in an environment that constantly pushes students to perform, Girls Will Be Girls frames adolescence as a period of subtle, yet profound, self-realization. Conflicts over class notes, unrequited crushes, and late-night chats in hushed corners collectively reveal the complexity beneath seemingly mundane teenage routines.
Despite its limited setting, the film resonates widely, showing that self-definition at this precarious age involves navigating pressure from all sides. Talati avoids giving the characters a tidy resolution, instead hinting that the real measure of growth is how well these young people begin to understand themselves, one day at a time.
All We Imagine as Light (2024)
All We Imagine as Light offers a patient, introspective depiction of three women’s intertwined lives in Mumbai. Directed by Payal Kapadia (external reference for the director’s background), the film focuses on the daily realities facing a pair of Malayali nurses, portrayed by Kani Kusruti and Divya Prabha, and a hospital cook, played by Chhaya Kadam. Each character juggles family obligations and low-paying work in a city that promises better prospects, yet remains constrained by glaring inequities.
Kapadia keeps the tempo slow, allowing each woman’s schedule—hectic hospital shifts, crowded train rides, and cramped living spaces—to unfold naturally. In doing so, the film highlights both the bright ambition and draining pressures coursing beneath the city’s surface. Instead of overt melodrama, viewers see small but potent scenes, such as co-workers banding together to cover one another’s tasks or heartfelt conversations over late-night meals. These ordinary occurrences hint at a kind of shared resilience that arises when people acknowledge each other’s burdens.
Despite the looming threat of possible eviction from her humble chawl, the cook (Chhaya Kadam) stands firm as a protector of her community. Meanwhile, the two nurses manage double shifts and dispassionate supervisors, yet find moments of calm when they manage to discuss their aspirations. Often, these transient sparks of optimism are enough to keep them going for another day.
From the start, All We Imagine as Light relies on gentle visuals: soft-lit hallways and unremarkable cityscapes become the backdrop for personal victories or silent struggles. Overlapping dialogues in congested train compartments capture how easily voices are drowned out by pressing concerns and collective anxieties. Yet the film demonstrates that, in the midst of all this chaos, empathy can flourish in the simplest gestures, from sharing tips on managing finances to offering a much-needed word of support.
This film reveals how individuals find hope in urban worlds that oscillate between wide opportunity and sheer exhaustion. Through its subtle portrayal of everyday obstacles, All We Imagine as Light underscores that even in overwhelming conditions, bonds built on mutual understanding remain a powerful source of strength.
Maharaja (2024)
Maharaja adopts a fragmented approach to storytelling, immersing audiences in the life of a man obsessed with a seemingly trivial object—a dustbin. Directed by Siddharth P. Malhotra, the film intersperses flashbacks and present-day sequences, gradually letting viewers piece together the protagonist’s anguish and motivations. At first, his fixation comes across as strange. As the narrative progresses, however, it becomes evident that this dustbin symbolizes deep-seated trauma that drives him to seek retribution at any cost.
Anurag Kashyap portrays Selvam, a complicated figure with a shadowy backstory that collides with the lead’s unresolved torment. Their encounters flicker with intensity, outlining moral ambiguities that affect both men. Inspector Varadharajan finds himself caught between dedication to the law and a hint of compassion for someone tormented by personal anguish. The lawman’s predicament brings up ethical questions: when official systems fail to offer justice, does an individual have a right to take drastic steps to ease his torment?
Maharaja amplifies these moral dilemmas by mixing subdued humor into its largely grim plot. Occasional scenes of levity function as short-lived respites, pointing out how the line between tragedy and the absurd can grow hazy.
Visually, the film toggles between dimly lit flashbacks to illustrate old wounds and sharper, starker frames that illuminate the raw urgency of the current timeline. In place of a linear structure, the film compels audiences to reassemble the narrative themselves, mirroring the protagonist’s own search for meaning behind the tragedy that propels his actions.
Ultimately, Maharaja refuses to offer a simple resolution. Instead, it lingers on the painful realization that sorrow and rage can twist moral compasses in ways few people can anticipate. It challenges viewers to decide whether empathy justifies or explains actions that skirt legal norms. By centering the story on an object as unexpected as a dustbin, Malhotra underscores how seemingly insignificant details can carry the weight of unhealed wounds.
I Want To Talk (2024)
I Want To Talk introduces viewers to Arjun (Abhishek Bachchan), a high-flying advertising executive whose showy confidence and pithy directives echo the charismatic aura of Don Draper. Early scenes highlight his flair for delivering “pearls of wisdom” on the job—he demands exacting standards, like stretching a pizza cheese pull to just the right duration. This quippy, self-assured personality also influences his home life, where he sees himself as a commendable family man who swoops in when it truly matters. Yet, beneath his bravado lies a simmering fragility.
The film’s pivotal turn arrives with a sudden cancer diagnosis that blindsides Arjun. Determined to conquer the disease with stubborn resolve, he adopts a “battle” mindset—a controversial view that, while empowering to some, can inadvertently imply that cancer outcomes hinge solely on a patient’s will to fight. Director Alankrita Shrivastava doubles down on this tension by showing how Arjun’s singular fixation on winning at all costs alienates those he wants to protect, including his daughter, whom he professes to cherish. Johnny Lever offers moments of levity here, though the story ultimately confronts larger questions of mortality and personal growth.
Because I Want To Talk spends only a brief stretch establishing Arjun’s pre-diagnosis world, the film’s later emotional swerves lack the deeper grounding that could have amplified his descent. A passing scene hints at his near-suicidal ideation—an echo of Thelma & Louise—but the overall impact might have been greater with more buildup. Even so, the narrative remains heart-wrenching, drawing on a true story while grappling with tough realities.
Shrivastava’s exploration of familial silence finds resonance in Arjun’s journey: his pushy determination to “stay strong” highlights how unspoken anxieties—and the choice to either voice or bury them—can dramatically reshape a family’s ability to cope. The film thus ends up reminding viewers that honesty about pain, rather than bravado, often proves to be the real strength.
Amar Singh Chamkila (2024)
Amar Singh Chamkila pays homage to the legendary Punjabi musician who thrilled audiences with passionate performances and unfiltered lyrics. Directed by Imtiaz Ali, the film enlists Diljit Dosanjh to embody the lively spirit of the singer whose unorthodox style sparked both admiration and fierce criticism. Rather than offering a straightforward biographical account, Ali places Chamkila’s creative evolution within a broader cultural tapestry that acknowledges rural traditions, censorship, and the unbreakable bond between artist and listener.
From its opening scenes, the film sweeps viewers into the immersive world of Punjabi folk music. Vibrant sets, swirling colors, and spirited dancing give a sense of Chamkila’s deep connection to the people, capturing how his tunes spoke openly about topics considered socially off-limits. Parineeti Chopra contributes to this dynamic by portraying Chamkila’s partner, whose dedicated onstage and offstage support underscores the significance of communal faith in confronting the controversies that Chamkila’s candor stirs up.
Imtiaz Ali refrains from casting Chamkila as a flawless hero. Audiences see the challenges that come with pushing musical boundaries—facing threats from conservative factions, dealing with amplified media attention, and wrestling with anxieties about personal safety. Studio sessions that highlight late-night composing and last-minute rewrites underscore the intensity of an artist driven to communicate freely. By addressing his unique approach to blending tradition with candor, the film stands as a testament to how creativity can prosper even under intense scrutiny.
Above all, Amar Singh Chamkila celebrates a culture’s pulse as channeled through one charismatic figure. Chamkila’s journey reflects both the triumphant highs and the brutal lows of living in the public eye.
The film’s energy hinges on Dosanjh’s portrayal, filled with raw emotion that makes every performance scene a highlight. In showing how music can unify people, challenge them, and occasionally provoke them, the film underscores that art can be a catalyst for social discourse.
Laapataa Ladies (2024)
Laapataa Ladies navigates a delicate topic—two brides who vanish soon after their weddings—without defaulting to a grim or tragic tone. Helmed by Kiran Rao under Aamir Khan’s production, the film presents a subtle fusion of comedic elements, cultural observations, and gentle insights about the constraints often forced upon young women in rural environments.
Nitanshi Goel and Chhaya Kadam portray the missing brides, each with her own response to the newfound experience of going unnoticed in a society that typically monitors female behavior closely. Instead of leaning on pessimism, the film uses humor to highlight the amusing confusion among relatives and locals who cannot comprehend why these brides would leave. Ravi Kishan offers exuberant interludes that mirror how communities react to unconventional events.
Rao underscores how, within a short window of unexpected freedom, the brides temporarily sidestep the strict norms that typically define their behavior. The bright backdrops emphasize open fairs, lively market stalls, and dusty roads, showcasing the environment that shapes the expectations of individuals growing up there. Slowly, viewers see how these women grapple with whether to return, stay hidden, or change their lives entirely.
By the end, Laapataa Ladies prompts speculation about what liberation might look like for those who rarely get to define their own paths. Rao never claims that a spur-of-the-moment choice will permanently overturn custom, yet she implies that even fleeting episodes of personal agency can yield new perspectives and unknown joys. Such moments, while ephemeral, can encourage women to dream of possibilities beyond rigid boundaries.
Madgaon Express (2024)
Madgaon Express follows three childhood friends who have always longed to visit Goa together. However, their plan takes an unexpected detour when a case of swapped luggage places them in the crosshairs of two rival mafia dons. Directed by Roy Kapoor and produced by Farhan Akhtar, this comedic caper sees the protagonists embark on a journey that transforms from a laid-back vacation dream into a hilariously chaotic survival mission.
The central trio—originally scattered across the globe—finally reunites for the trip they have planned since their school days. However, the chain of comical misadventures kicks off the moment the most impulsive member of the group decides to handle the travel logistics. Their simple holiday soon becomes a scramble to evade gangster showdowns, wade through fish markets in disguise, and salvage their decades-old friendship. The characters’ spot-on comedic timing and an endless flow of laugh-out-loud one-liners transform tense moments into opportunities for witty banter.
Madgaon Express stands out for its cleverly written dialogue and energetic performances, which imbue even the goofiest situations with genuine humor. While elements like over-the-top mafia characters and a handful of slapstick sequences might feel slightly familiar, the film’s breezy pacing—peppered with nods to beloved “friends-go-to-Goa” classics—keeps viewers entertained. Director Roy Kapoor ensures the tone remains lighthearted, granting the cast room to flaunt their comedic prowess.
Yet, it is in the motley crew’s spirited dynamic that Madgaon Express truly shines. Divyenndu steals many scenes as the incorrigible friend with a knack for social media bluffing, while Pratik Gandhi delivers memorable laughs every time he inadvertently morphs into a “temporary Rambo.” Meanwhile, Avinash Tiwari grounds the group as the most sensible of the lot. The supporting cast—especially the fumbling don and the equally colorful fisherwomen mafia—adds zany twists to an already madcap ride. With punchy quips and an infectious sense of camaraderie, Madgaon Express offers a well-balanced blend of slapstick chaos and sharp-witted fun.
Kill (2024)
Kill transforms a seemingly routine train ride into an adrenaline-filled battleground of survival. Directed by Nikhil Nagesh Bhat, the plot centers on Amrit Rathod, played by Lakshya Lalwani, an elite commando heading to Delhi to reunite with his fiancée. These calm beginnings vanish when a merciless gang—led by Raghav Juyal as Fani—seizes control of the train and takes its passengers hostage.
Bhat captures a claustrophobic atmosphere by setting most of the action in tight corridors and narrow aisles. Whenever a character attempts to flee or fight back, there is no room to maneuver, increasing the tension and ensuring every battle feels immediate. Violence escalates quickly, resulting in a film that demands a strong stomach. Yet, some quiet moments highlight the emotional toll on Amrit, who is torn between the desperation to save the innocent and the longing to start a peaceful life far from warfare.
The antagonists show some unexpected vulnerability; once in a while, they mourn their own fallen comrades, a dimension that breaks away from one-dimensional villain portrayals. Such empathy, while not absolving their brutality, injects moral complexity into the narrative, giving glimpses of how fear can blur the lines that separate heroes from aggressors. Rapid camera shifts and a pulsating score heighten the sense that any second could be the last for those trapped aboard.
Despite its high-intensity nature, Kill also resonates emotionally. Viewers watch Amrit endure the disquieting realization that violence, even in the name of protecting others, carries psychological weight. The conclusion, filled with explosions of action, leaves one pondering how survivors might reconcile this trauma with the fragile hope of returning to normalcy.
Taken as a whole, Kill stands out as a vigorous demonstration of the lengths people go to preserve life when an environment offers no escape routes.
Stree 2 (2024)
Stree 2 reenters the quirky, supernatural world launched by its preceding installment, blending humorous escapades and unsettling moments. Amar Kaushik directs this sequel, sustaining the charming balance of comedy and horror that made the original Stree a massive success. Rajkummar Rao resumes his role as a quick-thinking tailor working to shield his hometown from a menacing otherworldly presence. Meanwhile, Shraddha Kapoor’s mysterious character returns with knowledge or secrets that potentially hold the key to warding off the malevolent entity.
Actors like Pankaj Tripathi, Abhishek Banerjee, and Aparshakti Khurana deliver their comedic timing, creating amusing exchanges even when the film flirts with genuinely creepy scenarios. A new addition, Tamannaah Bhatia, enriches the existing lore, introducing another layer to the local myth. Through deft transitions from spine-tingling sequences to silly misunderstandings, Stree 2 ensures audiences find themselves both laughing and gasping.
Much like the original, the movie weaves in social satire. Characters poke fun at superstitions or perform bizarre protective rituals, thereby hinting at deeper cultural anxieties about maintaining tradition in a rapidly evolving world.
Scenes that initially appear purely humorous sometimes double as commentary on gender biases or the community’s deep-rooted mistrust of outsiders. The film’s stylized visuals—featuring spectral shadows in otherwise cozy streets—again anchor this sequel.
By refusing to rely solely on horror or humor, Stree 2 secures its position as an entertaining follow-up. Its success lies in preserving what made its predecessor compelling—lively characters navigating a haunting presence—while unveiling fresh insights about social norms. The final product is an engaging experience that does not shy away from the comedic potential even when spirits loom around every corner, forcing viewers to oscillate between uneasy laughter and genuine unease.
Sector 36 (2024)
Sector 36 grips its audience with a harrowing storyline that takes cues from real-life crimes that shook public awareness. Aditya Nimbalkar’s directorial approach reveals the horror from the opening frames: an unassuming caretaker named Prem, played by Vikrant Massey, commits a horrifying act against a teenage girl. This harsh beginning immediately warns viewers that the film explores territory where cruelty hides under the illusion of everyday normalcy.
Detective Ram Charan Pandey, portrayed by Deepak Dobriyal, leads the official investigation into a series of child disappearances plaguing an underprivileged area. Nimbalkar employs oppressive lighting, cramped set designs, and a pervasive aura of unease to highlight how a community might fail to recognize or address an expanding evil. Each step of Pandey’s search reveals negligent authorities, residents paralyzed by fear, and systemic red tape that hinders progress.
Amid scattered flashbacks, Sector 36 sketches a glimpse into Prem’s destabilized psyche without asking for leniency. Massey’s measured performance underscores how easily a villain’s everyday demeanor can fool the people around him.
The film does not rely on sensationalism alone; it also zeroes in on broader social failings. Institutions often brush aside urgent issues, leaving vulnerable families to face tragedies without any real support.
By its conclusion, Sector 36 sends a clear, sobering reminder that atrocity can flourish when those in power ignore small clues or show reluctance to intervene. Scenes of households trembling behind locked doors reflect the deep community-wide apprehension caused by such crimes. The tension, which never eases, shines a light on how evil sometimes thrives quietly until it’s too late to prevent the worst. This film thus delivers an uncomfortable truth: vigilance must be collective, or predators can slip through the cracks.
