Biopics — films that dramatise the lives of real people — were once on the margins of Bollywood. However, over the past decade, they have burst into the mainstream. What were initially a few isolated efforts have morphed into a dominant style of storytelling: athletes and actors, gangsters and social reformers, national icons and controversial figures. The first fire can be traced (among numerous films) to things like Bhaag Milkha Bhaag (2013) and Mary Kom (2014), when a “real-life” story could, in fact, generate the range of emotions found in a masala film, while taking advantage of audiences’ built-in interest in a story.

So why has Bollywood fallen for a true-story cinema? For one, real-life stories come with built-in arcs of struggle, redemption, triumph — all pre-fabricated into a package ready for cinema. As audiences, we feel a fundamentally different pull when a title says “based on a true story.” The stakes feel higher, the outcome more meaningful. And it’s kind of a safe bet — a well-known name or event acts as a buffer to some unknown, unknown. It marries with marketing. Stars get prestige projects. Politicians and producers see options.

However, this ascendance has introduced its own complexities. As studios pursue the biopic craze, the questions multiply: whose story is told, how true is it, and what is the goal? Is it to aspire towards truth or myth-making? Is it an artistic cinema, or just another way of packaging a life familiar to our formulas for onscreen entertainment? In other words, and to distil it down: fact, fiction and fame are intertwined—and with the further nuance that Bollywood's fixation with biopics is as much about storytelling as it is about identity, commerce and culture.

Here is a closer reflection on that journey: the escalated period of "real-life story" in Bollywood; the love affair; the challenges of sanitisation; the politics within; signs of fatigue; the cast; the circumstances in which it can work; the future—but always asking why? Why can't Bollywood stop?

The Rise of the “Real-Life Story” Era DONE
During the early 2010s, Bollywood transformed. Although Indian cinema has long been influenced by history, social issues, and true stories, a full-fledged biopic trend — celebrating the life of a known individual across its various arcs — began to emerge.

Films like Bhaag Milkha Bhaag (2013) presented the life of legendary Indian sprinter Milkha  Singh (“The Flying Sikh”), including his childhood trauma, the nightmare of Partition, glory in sports, and his personal demons. This film represented high drama, patriotism, sport and personal redemption. There was then Mary Kom (2014), a movie about boxer Mary Kom's life, offering a portrait of a woman's struggle both inside and outside the ring. The success of these films told producers and directors that audiences do care about stories derived from real life.

By 2016, films like M.S. Dhoni: The Untold Story (about cricketer Mahendra Singh Dhoni) demonstrated to producers and directors that biopics could be highbrow films that delivered commercial success. They brought star power, relatable emotional arcs, national interest and engaging storytelling.

With this success behind them, the floodgates opened. Suddenly, every conceivable personality seemed ready to be repurposed in the biopic genre - sports figures, entertainers, social reformers, freedom fighters, and controversial public figures, and even gangsters. The industry argument went that if the story is known, the brand is familiar, and the person is of public interest, the biopic will deliver.

As filmmaker Vikram Bhatt stated, “Of late, we have become an industry that only churns out biopics. From the unknown guys to the known, everyone's story is up for grabs.”

The numbers showed that in 2019 (with PM Narendra Modi alone), at least 15 biopics were in production or released. What had started as a creative experiment had become formulaic. Bollywood's "real life story" era had begun.

Why Bollywood Loves Biopics
What exactly drives this fascination within the industry? There are several overlapping reasons:

Life presents narratives in the intervals of conflict, challenge, or success, or just failure. And therein lies the wealth of its narrative possibilities. Whereas pure fiction often entails the daunting task of building tension or stakes from thin air, biopics have an inherent advantage: the story or character is already known to the audience, often through an emotional connection to the topic.

For actors, taking on the role of a real person means an opportunity to “transform” — dialect, physical transformation, period-appropriate stylistic choices, and psychological complexity. This will then translate into award stature, prestige, and buzz. It’s a resume line item. When stars agree to play a biopic, they indicate confidence in the genre.

A film that claims to be “based on a real event” usually requires less of a pitch to the audience because the critical component of the story is the headline itself. The audience either already knows (or has heard enough to be familiar with) the name or is sufficiently familiar with the broad strokes to become invested. This awareness will really assist with opening-day evaluation, conversation, and media coverage. An article I came across makes the point that filmmakers “cash in on the fan-base” of the true character they are creating a biopic on.

Numerous biopics line up with similar stories of nationalism, heroism, reform, struggle against the odds, etc., making them somewhat digestible—if not agreeable—genres. When you dramatise the narrative of a national icon or social change agent, you are tapping into a vibe—the flavour of a national ethos, if you will—a story can be somewhat appealing (and more commonly endorsed), at least in the Indian film ecology.

Additionally, the world's growing desire for "true stories," driven by the rise of online streaming services, has heightened the appetite for these non-fiction narratives, which take the form of documentaries, series, films, and biopics, occupying a middle ground between various media. Real-life stories have a different sense of "value" in terms of authenticity and sit well in other media.

Tech, in tandem with these dynamics, makes biopics compelling, commercially viable, artfully attractive, and culturally palatable. No reason Bollywood keeps reaching for them.

When Inspiration Turns into Sanitisation
On the other hand, several films clean, mystify or distort the realities of their subjects under the guise of the biopic boom. What starts as a "real story" may drift towards a "hero story" when comfort sets in.

A specific case in point is Sanju (2018). The film chronicles the life of Sanjay Dutt — his childhood, struggles with drugs, legal issues, and redemption arc — yet many viewed it as a whitewash of his life. "As a matter of fact, the filmmaker later did an interview where he said he had to manipulate the audience into developing empathy towards the character because the test audience hated him," wrote a piece for MensXP.

Azhar (2016), based on cricketer Mohammad  Azharuddin, was conversely criticised because of its fictionalised sequences, love angles, simplified conflict lines that did not resemble reality in any way.

The dilemma is two-sided. A factor is the business concern for a heroic, straightforward pathway (struggle → triumph), instead of, say, the nuance. There are considerable commercial, political, and legal aspects that justify omitting or glossing over certain elements of provocation. As the director/editorial notes say: "Most of these biopics are on people who have already been in the spotlight; have a large following, and are well-liked. Thus, don't we have our quiet unsung heroes that go unnoticed?"

This then raises the moral dilemma: Does Bollywood owe an audience the truth, or has "creative license" become a viable protector? When a film is titled "biopic," you expect authenticity. When the facts are heavily massaged, the trust is compromised. Storytelling-freedom is good and needed, but at what point is a "real story" simply a branded-less narrative?

Politics, Power and Propaganda
In Bollywood, biopics are not merely about individuals, but about identity, memory and in some cases, power. Many films emerge during periods of political hostility or feature narratives that promote state projects or ideological agendas.

Take PM Narendra Modi (2019), a film released in a politically charged year, which many consider was a politically scheduled film for electoral effect. The story of Narendra Modi had implied momentum and an audience, but just as in cinema, which documents great leaders of the past, there were heavy political overtones.

Similarly, regional biopics of political leaders (e.g. films about Bal Thackeray) also come into play during electoral calendars or regional political shifts–one interview given by the actor Nawazuddin Siddiqui (in the context of the Thackeray film) suggested that the temptation to collaborate with propagandist straightbrand was real, despite Siddiqui's resistance to it.

The Accidental Prime Minister (2019), based on the life of former Indian Prime Minister Dr Manmohan Singh, was billed as a political drama; in effect, it felt more like propaganda. Released before the general elections in India, the film portrayed Singh as a powerless figure subordinate to the Gandhi family, mirroring the ruling party's narrative. Despite Anupam Kher’s strong performance, the film's cherry-picking of events, over-the-top bias, and one-dimensional portrayals severely undermined its impact as an objective biography.

On top of tactical timing, there is active state sponsorship, tax credits, and censorship associated with what are deemed “patriotic” or “nationalistic.” First, if a film glorifies a freedom fighter or a national hero, it is often impossible to shelve a project. Furthermore, budgeting, donations, regional freshness, and state funding are prioritised. The cinema-state connection is real.

Within this latter context, the biopic may begin to trundle into unintended influence as a force of power. Biopics occupy an interpretive structure to codify the public memory of a person or personage; they validate the social construct of human action through video-accompanied narratives about someone’s life, highlighting specific virtues, values, or morals. Dangers ensue, however, when the genre overlooks challenges or examinations in favour of strict narrative continuity. Furthermore, the process may be as much about reframing individuals as it is about generating a collective (cultural) identity.

Akshay Kumar And The Politics Of Bollywood
As Bollywood expands into the territory of politically-inflected biopics, few actors have been as visible—or as disputed—as Akshay Kumar. In the last decade, Kumar has nearly developed a second career playing “national heroes,” either based upon real-life individuals or self-invented. Beginning with Airlift (2016), based on the evacuation out of Kuwait, followed by Rustom (2016), Pad Man (2018), Gold (2018), Mission Raniganj (2023), Samrat Prithviraj (2022), Kesari 2 (2025), and Sarfira yet to be released, Kumar has become the Bollywood national image of patriotism, change, and persistence.

Initially, these films offered a good blend of entertainment and inspiration. Airlift and Pad Man were notably good for articulating real stories of bravery and innovation within the context of the nationalistic myth. Eventually, with Samrat Prithviraj and Mission Raniganj, that credibility began to erode into an indulgent spectacle associated with patriotic sloganeering, and earnestness reduced nuance in favour of rowdy nationalism. It is difficult not to notice the trend in which films increasingly align with the dominant behaviour of their political moment, reinforcing state-approved ideologies of heroism, sacrifice, and Indian exceptionalism.

Critics have observed that Kumar's filmography reflects the preferred narratives of the current government: national pride, military valour, social reform, and moral rectitude, while avoiding more nuanced or critical depictions of India's social contradictions. Kumar's upcoming biopics on C. Sankaran Nair (a historical figure who stood against the British for the Jallianwala Bagh massacre) and Marathi actor-filmmaker Dada Kondke continue Kumar's public embrace of the "real-life hero", and apparently, this is not slowing down.

There is nothing inherently wrong with patriotic filmmaking. However, when the idea of patriotism becomes a genre and the actor becomes a representation of state virtue, art becomes propaganda. The repetitiveness of tone and message in Kumar's recent output suggests a purposeful effort to normalise a specific ideological identity, rather than to express an interest in a host of diverse cultural human stories. The Bollywood biopics, once defined by authenticity, at least in this moment of Kumar’s career, feel like a political campaign speech masquerading as cinema.

The Biopic Formula Is Getting Tired
Repetition follows success; it is especially evident in the biopic format of Bollywood. The characters are recognisable: the childhood difficulties, the montage of struggles, the crisis moment, the redemption, the applause. Once novel, the formula is becoming standard.

Even some insiders are spotting it. Actress Deepika Padukone noted back in 2018: “I feel like there are too many biopics being made. … after a point, how much are you going to tell me about those struggles? Even a commoner on the street has had a similar journey, if you ask me.”

The audience fatigue is also perceptible. Recently, an announcement about a biopic on cricketer Sourav Ganguly was made, and social media was flooded with comments like “we have enough biopics now, please!”

There are also examples of films that underperformed or failed to generate the same level of interest: titles like Shabaash Mithu, Mission Raniganj, and Sam Bahadur suggest that the appetite may be changing. When “special” is gone, then execution — not all biopics are created equal.

Another point to note: as subject matter becomes business, a significant drop in creative risk occurs. Actor-filmmaker Anant Mahadevan observed, "Making biopics has become a commercial exercise in Bollywood … typically putting the subject on an unrealistic pedestal."

Actors and Their Image Makeovers
Biopics have become a vehicle for actors to launch their careers in new directions. Not that transformation isn't part of the appeal of a biopic in general -- any opportunity for actors to showcase range, commitment, and transformation, they will dive in. And of course, marketing teams love to position a biopic around the hook of "look at what the actor did to be able to take on this role."

Ranbir  Kapoor in 'Sanju'; Vicky  Kaushal in 'Sardar  Udham' and 'Sam Bahadur'; Kangana  Ranaut in 'Thalaivii' - In each of these cases the transformation takes more than a physical form (prosthetics, weight, accent), it also involves a transformation psychologically, as the task of film-making and performance becomes "to become" the real life person they are portraying.

In some respects, the transformation becomes a marketing tool in itself —first-look sneak-peek images, teasers, voice-overs, and before-and-after shots of the actor getting into makeup and preparation. The shift in public attention goes to the actor's performance almost as much as to the subject's storytelling. Which raises an interesting question: is the film more about the topic or about a star and their portrayal on screen?

There is nothing inherently wrong about an actor exploring work in these kinds of roles. But the shift brings the story and the subject star's unity to the forefront, making the star's campaign secondary and allowing the campaign to take over, leaving the film to fall into the biopic/star-vehicle category.

When It Works: The Authentic Ones
There are genuinely some good biopics made in Bollywood beyond the formula and exhaustion. They can marry star power and good storytelling, treat the subject with respect, and avoid painting them as cardboard heroes.

Examples:

Bhaag Milkha Bhaag (2013): Directed by Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra, the film chronicles the life of famous sprinter Milkha Singh, as he comes to terms with his trauma from the Partition and ascends in the world of athletics. Farhan Akhtar provided an impressive performance, throwing himself physically and emotionally into the role. The film is a genuinely emotional and cinematic experience that combines realism, heart, and a genuinely uplifting score. It walked a tightrope between authenticity and drama, respectfully and viscerally showing us Milkha's resilience.

Mary Kom (2014): Directed by Omung Kumar, this biopic recounts the story of boxing champion Mary Kom, from her childhood in Manipur to her rise to the top of the world rankings. Priyanka Chopra's performance was once criticised for being a "I've turned up to collect an award for my fame" performance, but in fact, she was fully committed to the role and convincing. She prepared by fully training to embody the physicality and grit of the real Mary Kom. The film evoked strong emotion and motivation, and was the diuretic to a crowd-pleaser—Priyanka earned it.

Neerja (2016): Inspired by the real-life heroism of Pan Am flight attendant Neerja Bhanot, this film explores her final moments during the 1986 hijacking. Sonam Kapoor’s performance is moving but subtle, and the direction of Ram Madhvani avoids any overt melodrama. Even with romantic potential, the film honours the emotional weight of valour and sacrifice as it chronicles a remarkable journey from an ordinary young woman to an extraordinary representative of humanity and selflessness.

Super 30 (2019): Super 30 stars Hrithik Roshan as mathematician Anand Kumar, and depicts a teacher who tutors and prepares students for IIT entrance exams while overcoming social and economic injustices. The film has some unnecessary dramatic flourishes, but it effectively portrays the challenges Kumar faces and the social injustices he fights against. With heart, sincerity, and good storytelling, it portrays education as a catalyst for change.

Chhapaak (2020): Chhapaak, directed by Meghna Gulzar, depicts the life of Laxmi Agarwal, an activist and survivor of an acid attack. Deepika Padukone's performance is subtle, empathetic, and captures trauma and quiet strength. The film is not melodramatic, as it focuses on resilience and dignity in the face of systemic apathy and injustice. While it did not earn much at the box office, it was well-received for its sincerity, careful storytelling, and its courage in shining a light on an often-overlooked issue.

Sardar Udham (2021): Shoojit Sircar directed this haunting vision of the freedom fighter Udham Singh, who famously assassinated Michael O’Dwyer to avenge the Jallianwala Bagh massacre. Vicky Kaushal's performance is nuanced and extraordinary, and the film's attention to detail reinforces the period. It is noiselessly meditative in pace and emotionally layered, treating the pain and purpose of Singh's actions in unusual dignity and grace for the cinema.

Sam Bahadur (2023): Following Sardar Udham, Meghna Gulzar directed this more straightforward biopic about the life of Sam Manekshaw, India's first Field Marshal. Vicky Kaushal, again, delivers a commanding and charismatic performance, showcasing Manekshaw's wit, courage, and strategic brilliance in key moments, including the 1971 war. The attention to detail and the film's sharp writing stand out, even if the pacing is uneven. Sam Bahadur, however, is a sincere, well-acted tribute to India's military history that balances pride with depth.

Filmmakers like Shoojit Sircar and Meghna Gulzar should be recognised in this context for treating biopics as stories rather than spectacles. The distinction is in the tone: it’s less “look how great this person is” and more “here’s a human being, with contradictions, stakes, flaws and courage.” Once that happens, the genre earns its own value. It is not merely a star vehicle or political act, but a film with depth, nuance and empathy.

What’s Next for Biopics in Bollywood?
Given the current dynamics, several possible directions emerge. To avoid the monotony of sameness, Bollywood may soon turn its camera toward lesser-known narratives and everyday people—nameless yet remarkable souls living remarkable lives far from the public eye. They come without the reassurance of built-in enthusiasm, making those stories less appealing to sell, but often more attractive to tell. And, for filmmakers wanting to revive the appetite for biopics, they may find a refreshing authenticity in quieter stories.

Regional cinema may direct this change. Film has been researching the stories of local reformers, cultural icons, and forgotten legends with grounded realism for over a decade, across Tamil, Telugu, Marathi, and Malayalam filmmakers. Bollywood, which has borrowed so much from the South, may also expand beyond its apparent obsession with national icons and draw on regional or community-based heroes.

OTT is also changing the landscape. With no box office to lean on, streaming allows for richness and experimentation with narrative structure—complex, long-term arcs within an episode, multi-arc character, and increased emotional depth. Biopics on OTT can focus on authenticity and complexity rather than speculation, moving from spectacle to sincerity.

The future may also include hybrid formats, such as docudramas, limited series, podcasts, and even interactive stories, in which one individual's experiences can be interpreted across multiple media platforms. But with the expansion will come scrutiny. Critics and audiences demand more honesty and less airbrushed storytelling. Bollywood must contribute to the biopic genre evolving from simply a PR vehicle to an earnest narrative form — a storytelling trope that puts celebrity and truth above mythologising.

The Audience’s Role
Lastly: the audience. We may think of them as passive agents, but their tastes, acceptance, and critique define the genre.

One of the reasons the biopic boom boomed was that the audiences rewarded it. They went to the theatres, celebrated the films, and loved the notion of "real heroes." Maybe in a time of manufactured reality, a "real story" seems more true. "Based on true events" still packs an emotional punch.

But are the audience okay with being spoon-fed selective truths? When the movie pushes myth-making, or when it glosses over inconvenient facts, will the audience detect it — or are they so captive to their appetite for idealised stories? A Redditor states, "The problem is not biopics. The problem is Bollywood SUCKS at doing films based on true events. They invent all kinds of ridiculous nonsense for petty drama... The biopic is made more for the actor playing it and not the person who happens to be featured in the story."

The cycle will only continue if audiences continue to support flimsy biopics. If they demand deeper, more complex biopics, the filmmakers will eventually deliver. Filmmaking is a dialogue between filmmakers and audiences.

We must also ask ourselves: how important is truth in a film? Do we overlook dramatic license when it contradicts the facts? When does entertainment outweigh truth? Biopics occupy this tension, and audiences play a crucial role in resolving it.

The Takeaway
In Bollywood, biopics serve as mirrors — they reflect lives that inspire, challenge, provoke. In Indian films, however, the mirror is often airbrushed. An iconic life becomes a branded life story, a messy human being is transformed into a hero, and a controversial subject is redeemed. We lose some of the risk, the complexity and in the end, the freshness of the genre.

But it is not over. The challenge now is to shift from myth-making to meaningful storytelling. The next generation of biopics will need to ask more challenging questions: Who are we celebrating and why? What are we choosing to leave out? Are we willing to tell stories of people who never had the spotlight? Will we show the fractures, not just the good things? Will we treat real lives with the complexity they deserve?

If Bollywood can continue to answer these questions, biopics will still —and will continue to — matter. They will advance. They will progress from star vehicle to human story, from brand-driven spectacle to true cinema. Fact, fiction and fame will continue to dance around each other — but hopefully more with honesty, less glitz and more heart.

Above all else, every biopic’s real subject is not just the person on the screen. It is the society that chooses to tell the story, what it values, what it remembers, and what it chooses to forget.