On December 9, International Anti-Corruption Day, a day on which the international community tries to refocus its attention on the anti-corruption agenda. A day on which the international community calls on governments to renew their commitment to combat corruption is also a day when it will once again be reminded of the many promises made and broken in efforts to end corruption. Every year, many of these promises are made again, as if there were none before.

While it is true that corruption has persisted in India for decades and has survived changes in government, elections, and political responses, it will continue as long as the political reaction to it remains insufficient. The constant state of evolution and adaptation regarding corruption means that many citizens in India feel corruption is not only present but will remain in their lives forever and cannot be removed. Corruption has a long history in India, and citizens will continue to experience it at every level of society, from schools to workplaces to hospitals.

Films made in Hindi continue to document corruption more because of the need for a story than by the current lack of "new" films to make. Overflowing across every part of society, citizens face corruption every day, and even after seeing countless films documenting it, the problem persists.

Bollywood has historically served as a place of emotional resonance for many people in India, as an expression of what would otherwise seem like a disconnected voice. Cinema offers a resolution that real systems cannot provide. Cinema provides a place to assign blame where traditional institutions do not. These films do not replace the need for reform or policy change, but rather give us the ability to 'see' what caused our collective anger, frustration, and helplessness, and to convey it in narrative form.

Over the years, Hindi movies have told many stories of corruption in India: the political collapse at the top of the hierarchy, through to the brutality of the police, the compromises of the judiciary, the criminality perpetrated by corporations, and, finally, moral decay. Throughout time, how we 'see' corruption has changed. The evolution of villains from a loud, dictatorial type to a polite and obscure bureaucratic figure and now to a familiar-looking man has been one of gradual, slow evolution on screen. This article traces this path through the lens of how Bollywood has brought corruption into the forefront of public anger.

Corruption as the Invisible Villain

In its early days, Hollywood's portrayal of villains was often very flamboyant. These onscreen villains would be seen in elaborate clothing and heavy makeup, frequently using over-the-top voices. They lived in extravagant locations away from the rest of society. This was because they were criminals or unsavoury characters who posed visible and external threats to others. Audiences always knew who they were supporting by identifying the villain.

The advent of corruption has created a new form of storytelling. Whereas previously the villain would wear a costume that easily demonstrated their evilness, the new villains would not have a dress code that did so. The new villains would conduct their activities within businesses or organisations, using legal documentation and paperwork. The actions of these new villains may take place over time through procedural methods or pretences of courtesy.

The portrayal of Bollywood villains, as well as the writing and analysis surrounding these characters, has changed over the years. Antagonists/antagoniste became less fantastical and became reflections of the experiences of everyday citizens. The motivations of villains became rational rather than dramatic. Villains act because they benefit from acting like villains, given what the political/economic system offers. Thus, the depictions of corrupt practices have generally followed this change in society.

In these movies, the evil character does not represent just one person; instead, he embodies a collective, established practices, and accepted cultural norms. He does not scream or yell at anyone because he knows he does not have to. Instead, his authority stems from his permanence in his role. He also understands that if he were to be found guilty of any crime, the government would absorb the backlash so he could continue his actions.

Because of this, films that depict corruption make viewers feel more angst than traditional crime movies do, as they do not offer an easy path to victory over evil. Corruption films force the viewer to confront the uncomfortable fact that the enemy is entrenched in the day-to-day operations of society as a whole. Films such as Shool, Jolly LLB, and Raid create anger not through action but rather through a shared sense of recognition. The audience will have sat across from these same individuals in their own workplaces. The antagonist seems like a personal connection because of prior familiarity.

Political Corruption: From Rage to Rebellion

Because political corruption signifies a loss of confidence at the top, it evokes an extreme emotional reaction in Bollywood. The public expects their will to be expressed through the political process, and when this fails, the citizens have no options remaining.

The emotional response to the loss of confidence in political institutions due to corruption is best illustrated in *Rang De Basanti*. The film's protagonists begin as disillusioned youth with no connection to or interest in politics, and slogans do not sway them. The story of corruption unfolds from a single event: an opportunity to prevent a tragedy is missed, in part because political leaders are indifferent to their constituents' lives. The resentment towards this indifference is expressed through the notion of murder due to indifference. While many people would see the tragedy as representing a loss to the community, those in power will often speak of "loss" in faraway or impersonal terms. At the same time, the victims' bodies are being buried.

The film's strength lies in the way it presents violence. Rather than glorifying it as a form of "justice" that is created through vigilantism, it presents violence as a sign of despair. The characters do not believe the political system can be changed from within, so they resort to a symbolic rebellion that serves as a form of sacrifice for their beliefs. Corruption is not just another form of illegal activity in this film; rather, it is the absence of responsibility on the part of the leaders. The villain does not need to scream to express his power; he simply shrugs.

While Nayak takes an opposite approach to depicting political corruption, in that it emphasises "the process of corruption" and suggests that corrupt actions continue indefinitely, through both the delay of actions and the diffusion of responsibility, it ultimately demonstrates how easy it is to eliminate those excuses when you choose to take decisive action instead of just following argument and law. Thus, in Nayak, when Shivaji Rao serves as chief minister for only one day, he does not have ultimate power but still takes the initiative to implement something. The film's criticism of political corruption arises from the idea that change can be achieved quickly once the excuses are removed.

Conversely, Gulaal takes a much more sweeping view of political corruption, depicting how movements that arise from resistance become corrupted from within. Language becomes a weapon, a tool of manipulation, and the antagonist feels that he is fighting for a higher purpose as a result of the manipulation of history. The antagonist's villainy is chilling because he holds the principled belief that he should do whatever it takes to achieve his goal. The evolution of political antagonists is also an essential consideration in this film, for they no longer have to appear as tyrants. They dress simply and speak softly, explaining their actions as all being necessary.

Both Nayak and Gulaal demonstrate a movement from anger to rebellion and disillusionment towards political corruption. In these two films, political corruption becomes a danger not because the actor(s) do not know it occurs, but because they can effectively present their actions as justifiable.

Police Corruption: When Protectors Become Predators

While corruption in politics seems remote, it is at the police department that one finds close access and immediacy to police corruption during times of calamity, fear, and uncertainty. Therefore, it is even more brutal for people to face the betrayal of something so close.

I found Shool to be one of Bollywood’s harshest depictions of what a rotten institution looks like. The primary character is a cop who maintains his honesty but finds himself caught up in a corrupt system. Many police stations are not places where one can receive justice; police officers negotiate every day in the station and are used to accepting bribes and using physical violence as a means to an end. In this institution, those with integrity are considered incompetent, and the film offers a savage look at this reality. Crime is not an anomaly; it is something people expect to see every day.

Not only does the honest cop's isolation form the emotional centre of the movie, but he is also sabotaged by the corruption of the officers around him. The cop’s moral compass is viewed as a liability. The criminals on the street are only part of his battle; the most vicious and dangerous foe is his fellow officer, who has come to view the practice of compromise as acceptable behaviour. In the past, we’ve viewed police officers as flamboyant bad guys; now, however, they are bureaucratic criminals who are enacting processes that we view as evil, all quietly and systematically enforced.

The police in Akira are aggressively distorted beyond any semblance of legitimacy. These officers have dispensed with any illusion of legality in enforcing the law, unilaterally determining guilt and imposing punishment. Violence is the normative mode of operation. The uniform serves as a shield to protect the officer from his crimes. The sadistic nature of police corruption in *Akira* stems from the thrill and abuse born of unchallenged authority. Justice does not exist; it has been replaced.

In Ugly, police officers are neither misled by ideology nor tyrannical; instead, they are tired, indifferent, and dispassionate. Police corruption in Ugly stems from apathy and indifference, rather than a sadistic drive to harm. This makes Ugly feel more haunting than Akira. The absence of empathy is a criminal act in Ugly. It offers no resolution and challenges the viewer to confront the painful reality of systemic apathy and discomfort stemming from the lack of empathy from our institutions.

Across all the films mentioned in this article, police corruption has shifted away from being seen as the result of individual failures to a systemic collapse of ethics and integrity. The predatory nature of authority without accountability is inherent in all films.

Judicial Corruption and the Theatre of Law

In Hindi cinema, the courtroom has always occupied a unique space, representing order in a chaotic environment where evidence matters, arguments hold weight, and a verdict provides closure. With films depicting legal corruption, the structured comfort audiences experience is deliberately stripped away to illustrate that clarity is a construct of ritualistic practices rather than a matter of fact. The Legal System may seem credible on the surface; however, at the centre, it is corrupt.

Jolly LLB effectively articulates this deception on both sides of the system with disturbing clarity. Legal Corruption in this instance is not outrageous or dramatic; somewhat, it is disguised and procedural, hidden behind numerous (some of which will be years-long) continuances, mountains of paper, and legal technicalities that eventually suffocate the possibility of Justice. Therefore, the antagonist never threatens or raises their voice but instead smiles and remains courteous while employing delays as their primary strategy. As such, time becomes their most effective weapon, for as Hearings drag out indefinitely, the sense of urgency behind the Truth quickly dissipates, giving way to Fatigue, Compromise and Resignation.

The reason this film is so powerful is due to its depiction of the protagonists and antagonists with stark restraint. The Villainous Antagonist is terrifyingly relatable, mirroring the large segment of Professionals who've discovered how to skillfully manipulate the rules without losing their majestic and venerable persona. Within the confines of a courtroom, Performance → Reputation → and lastly, Image have taken precedence over all other moral convictions. Justice is not denied outright. It is postponed until it no longer matters.

Satyagraha widens this lens by questioning not just institutions, but resistance itself. The film suggests that corruption evolves by absorbing dissent. Movements are branded, outrage is packaged, and idealism becomes marketable. Protest shifts from moral pressure to public spectacle. Systems do not collapse under criticism. They survive by repurposing it.

Together, these films reflect a growing cinematic understanding that modern antagonists rarely arrive with dramatic origins. They are produced by the same social machinery they exploit. Justice is simplified on screen, not out of naivety, but because reality has grown too compromised, too entangled, to resolve cleanly within the frame.

Corporate and Financial Corruption: Following the Money

When Bollywood began engaging seriously with corporate and financial corruption, the volume dropped noticeably. The anger remained, but it was expressed through restraint rather than outrage. These films understood that modern power does not announce itself. It settles in quietly, behind closed doors, inside air-conditioned rooms where decisions are made without spectacle. Noise gives way to silence because silence itself becomes a form of authority. Corporate corruption, unlike street crime or political theatrics, thrives on discretion. It survives by appearing respectable, procedural, and unremarkable.

Special 26 clearly illustrates this point of view. The con artists are not exceptionally brilliant or clever criminals; instead, they work within a system that accepts corruption as its default method. In other words, public officials expect bribes and are much more uncomfortable without them. The film depicts how pervasively embedded corruption has become within our society, creating a common language for those with power and privilege to communicate with one another. It is important to note that it is not fear that reveals the system's wrongness, but rather the comfort level of all those involved. No one is panicking or reacting to the situation. Everyone is complicit, collectively, quietly and comfortably.

Raid and Raid 2 take the idea of evil a step further, removing any aspect of dramatic villainy. In the Raid movies, antagonists do not threaten; they wait. Most of the time, the villains don't raise their voices or behave in a physically dominant manner. They have confidence in knowing the following: they have influence, wealth, and political connections that protect them. The "power" of paperwork, the "power" of delay, and the "power" of legal intimidation have replaced aggression. Silence connotes supremacy because silence connotes dominance.

This shift also reflects the way Bollywood now views evil. The evolution of evil in Bollywood is that evil is no longer represented through large, flashy behaviour or by monologues fantasising about personal greatness. Evil has transitioned into a systematic example of assuredness. Antagonists no longer need to explain their motivations, because the system is already part of the explanation. In these films, corruption is frightening precisely because it looks calm, settled, and entirely at home.

Psychological and Moral Corruption: Inside the Mind

Chup: Revenge of the Artist (2022) shifts the conversation inward, away from institutions and into the human psyche. Here, corruption is not rooted solely in politics, policing, or the judiciary. It is emotional, psychological, and deeply personal. The film argues that rot does not always flow downward from power structures. Sometimes it grows quietly within individuals shaped by rejection, humiliation, and relentless pressure to be validated. In a society obsessed with success, applause, and visibility, failure is not treated as a phase but as a verdict. Chup suggests that this cultural fixation on recognition can deform moral boundaries, turning disappointment into grievance and grievance into violence.

The villain's perspective is disturbing because of its rationality. For him, punishment equates to justice; the victim's retaliation is met with criticism. He does not engage in random acts of violence, but rather in orchestrated acts of 'correction' rather than criminality. The anatomical makeup of contemporary screen villains suggests a psychological reading that indicates that these characters are shown to be 'mad men', devoid of rationale, or whatever rationale may exist will be viewed as expressive in terms of superiority. The vigilante villains figure out what works for them to assert that the concept of balance guides their behaviour through their cruel behaviours, and that the act of murder amounts to being punished or 'held accountable' for their actions. These individuals possess a specific, self-defined sense of morality that precludes any doubt or empathy once they become convinced of their own righteousness in what they are doing.

The overall limitation of the film within anti-corruption discourse is that it does not remove interference from outside forces and places all the blame solely on corrupted institutions or systems. It also reminds audiences that corruption may develop through avenues other than imposed systems or institutions. Feelings of entitlement, unrecognised talent, wounded ego, and a lack of moral integrity may foster corruption. The film provides a broader definition of corruption that extends beyond bribing those in power and offers audiences a more complete understanding of how societal roles can create the conditions that lead to ethical devastation.

Do These Films Change Anything, or Just Soothe Us?

Every film that centres on corruption asks the same question: Do these films actually inspire people to take action, or do they just provide an outlet for those who are weary of fighting for change? The uncomfortable truth lies somewhere in between. The majority of films about corruptness do not lead to immediate reform after viewing. New laws do not miraculously appear once the movie ends, nor do institutions become any more transparent. What you get instead from watching a film is emotional catharsis, and this emotional release can help or hinder the audience in different ways. On the one hand, it allows the viewer to validate their frustration with society. On the other hand, the viewer may become so emotionally spent by the film that they choose to accept accountability for their own actions in the movie rather than take to the streets for change.

Rang De Basanti has been cited as evidence of cinema's power. Many of the film's most famous lines have entered everyday speech. The anger displayed on screen inspired young people across India to fight against their own corrupt systems. However, the institutions and systems portrayed in the film are still intact. People have been given a voice in the movie through dialogue and discussion. While this may be of significant importance in itself, it does not necessarily indicate a change in structure. A cathartic experience can be reassuring. Witnessing justice served in a fictional narrative can help soothe the frustration that builds up among people in the real world who believe they have not received the justice they deserve.

International Anti-Corruption Day arrives once a year as a symbolic pause. Bollywood’s return to corruption is far more persistent. One functions as a reminder. The other is a record of feeling. Films may not dismantle corrupt systems, but they preserve memory. They insist that anger is legitimate and that silence is a choice. Cinema may not create reform, but it creates awareness, and awareness remains the first condition for resistance.

The Takeaway

Corruption continually reappears in Bollywood films because it is a very real part of our society, something lived every day across various classes, professions, and geographies, rather than an abstract issue disconnected from people. The universality of corruption provides a readily identifiable moral battleground for filmmakers, as a film's conflict is about an obvious form of harm, injustice, and inequality of power, all of which need to be addressed.

As time has passed, so have the types of cinematic villains representing this corruption evolved to better reflect the current state of affairs. No longer do we have exaggerated, loud, and vile tyrants; instead, the villains of today are those who are polite, well-spoken, and dressed professionally. The evil portrayed is no longer external; it is now an internal issue of the system. Today, evil does not raise its voice in anger; instead, it files its forms, cites its rules, and relies on the legitimacy created by the bureaucracy to hide behind.

Bollywood does not fight corruption with policies, committees, or white papers. It fights it by giving anger a face and frustration a voice. It names what is often left unnamed and shows how decay spreads quietly through institutions, routines, and even personal ethics. These films do not claim to offer solutions. They do something subtler and more honest. They rehearse resistance. They allow audiences to feel outrage without apology, empathy without cynicism, and hope without illusion. In that sense, they function as emotional training grounds.

We watch these battles unfold on screen because real victories are rare and often invisible. Cinema steps in where reality falters, offering confrontation if not change. And until the day justice feels less fictional than it does now, corruption will remain Hindi cinema’s most urgent and unavoidable story.