The opening credits of Dhamaal 4 promise chaos. The closing credits deliver a headache. In between, Indra Kumar’s latest caper tries so hard to recapture the manic energy of its 2007 predecessor that it forgets the one thing that made the original work: the chemistry of four idiots who felt like real friends, not just gag delivery systems.
Arriving in theaters on July 10, 2026, this fourth installment reunites the core quartet - Ajay Devgn as the perpetually exasperated Guddu, Arshad Warsi’s slippery Adi, Riteish Deshmukh’s wide-eyed Lallan, and Javed Jaffrey’s rubber-faced Manav. They are joined by returning sidekicks Sanjay Mishra and Ravi Kishan, plus new blood in Upendra Limaye and Anjali Anand. The premise, as thin as a chapati, involves the boys hunting the "Treasure of Life," a mystical artifact that allegedly grants immortality. Cue the usual cross-country chases, mistaken identities, and one very unfortunate encounter with a herd of goats.
Here’s the thing about a Dhamaal movie: you don’t walk in expecting Bergman. You expect slapstick, puns, and Devgn rolling his eyes while Warsi schemes. The film delivers those elements in spades - sometimes literally, as a gag involving a spade goes on for an exhausting eight minutes. But the ratio is off. The laughs are sparse, the plot is an afterthought, and the runtime of 143 minutes feels like a marathon through a desert of recycled jokes.
The biggest problem is the noise. Every scene is dialed to eleven. Characters shout when they could whisper. A simple conversation about directions becomes a screaming match. The sound design is so aggressive that even the quieter moments feel like they’re waiting for a punchline that never comes. It’s exhausting in a way that the 2007 original, for all its chaos, never was. That film had a breezy, almost improvisational feel. This one feels like a focus group approved every pratfall.
What saves the film from being a total washout is the cast’s sheer commitment. Devgn, in particular, plays Guddu with a weary resignation that borders on meta-commentary. He’s the straight man in a world of lunatics, and his deadpan reactions to the absurdity around him land more laughs than any of the physical comedy. Warsi, as always, is the MVP, delivering his lines with that signature twinkle. His banter with Jaffrey, especially a sequence involving a fake treasure map and a very real snake, is the closest the film comes to its former glory.
The new additions, however, are wasted. Anjali Anand, as Paro, is given little to do beyond looking confused and occasionally screaming. Upendra Limaye, a fine actor in Marathi cinema, is relegated to playing a henchman named Prithvi whose sole purpose is to grunt and fall over. It’s a shame, because the script had an opportunity to shake up the dynamic, to let the new characters bounce off the veterans. Instead, they’re wallpaper.
Director Indra Kumar, who has helmed all four films, seems to be operating on autopilot. The set pieces are elaborate but hollow. A chase through a spice market is filmed with the kinetic energy of a music video, but the jokes within it - a falling sack of chili powder, a runaway cart - are the kind of gags that were old in the 1980s. There is one genuinely clever bit involving a ventriloquist dummy that had the audience I saw it with howling, but it’s a lone oasis in a desert of misfires.
The pacing doesn’t help. The first act is a sluggish setup, introducing the treasure through a convoluted prologue involving a dying sage and a riddle that makes no sense. The middle act is where the film finally finds its footing, with the quartet splitting up and engaging in solo misadventures. But the final act, set in a crumbling palace, devolves into a repetitive game of hide-and-seek that outstays its welcome by a good twenty minutes.
Critically, the film has been savaged, and its TMDb rating of 3/10 reflects that. The general audience, based on the mixed reactions in the theater, seems split between those who want mindless fun and those who feel betrayed by the lack of invention. The humor is juvenile, yes, but that’s been the brand since day one. The difference is that earlier entries felt like they were in on the joke. This one feels like the joke is on us.
The most telling moment comes near the end. The quartet, triumphant, sits on a pile of gold. Manav turns to Guddu and asks, "So, what do we do now?" Guddu shrugs and says, "We find the next treasure, obviously. That’s what we do." It’s a line that could be seen as a winking acknowledgment of the franchise’s formula. Or it could be a warning. For fans of the original, the hope is that this is the last time we see these boys chase a map. The treasure, in this case, might be the memory of when this series was actually fun. Dhamaal 4 is a relic, buried under its own excess, and not worth the dig.
