Director: Gippy Grewal
Writer: Gippy Grewal
Cast: Gippy Grewal, Gurpreet Ghuggi, Nimrat Khaira, Prince Kanwaljit Singh, Nikitin Dheer, Mita Vashisht, Shinda Grewal, Ekom Grewal, Jaggi Singh, Ashish Duggal, Bhana La and Jarnail Singh
Runtime: 2 hours, 20 minutes
 
In Akaal, Gippy Grewal steps into the dual role of actor and filmmaker to deliver a sweeping historical epic rooted in the turbulent era of post-Maharaja Ranjit Singh Punjab. With its emotionally charged core, breathtaking visuals, and a story soaked in courage, sacrifice, and spiritual conviction, Akaal is more than just a period drama—it is a cinematic homage to the undying spirit of the Khalsa.
 
Set in the politically unstable 1840s, the film begins in the aftermath of Maharaja Ranjit Singh’s demise, capturing a period of chaos, betrayal, and external threats. Amidst this backdrop rises Sardar Akaal Singh (played with intensity by Gippy Grewal), a principled warrior who seeks peace but isn’t afraid to wield his sword when the sanctity of his village is threatened by invading forces led by the merciless Jangi Jahan (a chilling Nikitin Dheer). When treaties are broken and honor is challenged, the story unfolds into a fierce tale of resistance that involves not just the men, but the women and youth of the village as well.
 
From the very first frame, Akaal asserts its ambition. Whether it’s the sweeping landscapes of Punjab, the intricate costume design that faithfully reflects the era, or the detailed production that immerses viewers in the 19th-century setting, the film leaves no stone unturned in building its world. Director Grewal ensures that the visual language of the film resonates with historical authenticity while infusing it with cinematic flair. Baljit Singh Deo’s cinematography shines here, capturing the serenity of Punjab’s fields just as effectively as the chaos of battle.
 
Where Akaal truly distinguishes itself is in its thematic weight. It’s not merely a tale of swords and bloodshed—it’s a story of identity, spiritual resilience, and collective defiance. The narrative draws from the ideals of Sikhism—righteousness, service, and humility—making the characters feel rooted not just in time, but in purpose.
 
Grewal delivers a deeply committed performance as Akaal Singh, embodying a calm strength that anchors the film. He avoids the typical bravado of action heroes and instead channels a stoic intensity. Nimrat Khaira, as his wife Sahej Kaur, is graceful yet fierce, proving herself an equal on the battlefield. Ekom Grewal (playing their son) and Shinda Grewal (as a young villager) bring freshness to the ensemble and reflect the generational spirit of resistance.
 
Nikitin Dheer’s portrayal of Jangi Jahan is fearsome, and his physicality adds an imposing presence on screen. Mita Vashisht, in a brief but memorable role as Jahan’s sister, leaves a lasting impression. Gurpreet Ghuggi plays a spiritual elder whose presence injects philosophical gravity into the narrative, though some of his moral monologues verge on excessive.
 
Technically, the film hits most of its marks. The action choreography, led by Siraj Sayed, is visually engaging though at times veers into implausibility—Akaal Singh emerging from battle untouched stretches believability. Still, the final showdown between protagonist and antagonist is a high-octane spectacle worth the buildup. Editing by Rohit Dhiman could have been tighter, particularly in the second half, where pacing dips momentarily under the weight of exposition.
 
Musically, Akaal tries to straddle two worlds—rooted Punjabi folk and the broader soundscape of Bollywood. While the fusion doesn’t always land, standout tracks like the title anthem by Sukhwinder Singh and “Ik Vaada” by Arijit Singh manage to elevate key moments. However, the inclusion of overly commercial numbers feels tonally off in a film so anchored in tradition.
 
While Akaal doesn’t break new narrative ground—it follows a fairly linear, predictable arc—it compensates with heart. The film’s greatest strength lies in its emotional resonance and cultural pride. It feels like a film made with a sense of duty—meant to educate, inspire, and honor. And in doing so, it opens the door for Punjabi cinema to explore historical storytelling on a grander scale.
 
AKAAL is a stirring cinematic tribute that transcends its occasional narrative stumbles with sheer passion, visual splendor, and a committed cast. Gippy Grewal crafts a film that may not be perfect, but it is purposeful—and that makes it worth watching.