Border called the enemy ‘mere bhai’; Border 2 trades this 90s empathy for modern rage-bait cinema

Cut to 2026, Border 2 marched into theaters riding the massive wave of nostalgia. While the film has achieved a successful run at the box office becoming highest-grossing Indian war film, it ultimately felt like a hollow shell of its predecessor.

Went in for Sunny Deol in Border 2, felt like being back in Gadar

In the 1997 classic, Sunny Deol’s Major Kuldeep Singh Chandpuri carried the poise and gravitas of a seasoned commanding officer. He was a leader who mentored his men with paternal kindness but could switch to sternness when required. Every outburst, every rallying cry came from a place of authenticity rather than theatrics.

In contrast, Border 2’s Lt. Col. Fateh Singh Kaler often feels like a scene straight out of Gadar, shouting over-the-top lines like, “Jitne tumhare yahaan log nahi hain, utne bakre hum Eid mein kaat dete hain!” The gravitas is traded for constant shouting, delivering lines that feel tailor-made for a theatre frenzy rather than a war room.

Unsuccessful nostalgia trap

Border 2 tried to lean on the nostalgia of the original, but it rarely lands, it stumbles by treating nostalgia as a checklist rather than a feeling. The story feels painfully predictable, you can map out the casualties from the dialogues. It’s obvious who will survive and who won’t, even among the side characters. The film brings back iconic songs like ‘Sandese Aate Hain’ and ‘To Chalun’, but the magic is missing. In the original, these numbers evoked genuine emotion, in the sequel, the picturisation feels hollow. Even moments that should tug at the heart, like receiving letters from home, come across as forced, barring a fleeting moment or two. It felt as if the makers were simply ticking a box to ensure the audience felt “something” without putting in the work to earn it.

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Action vs. authenticity

In the original Border, the war sequences felt grounded and believable, especially given the technical limitations of the time. Border 2, however, leans heavily into over-the-top spectacle. Sunny Deol’s Lt. Col. Fateh Singh Kaler performs stunts that belong more in a superhero blockbuster than a war film. He spends more time engaged in hand-to-hand combat with the enemy than a professional wrestler in a ring. When Sunny Deol and his troops arrive to rescue Varun Dhawan’s character at a different location just in time, it felt like they pressed a teleporting button. In its quest to be a “high-octane actioner,” it loses its realism, making the battle scenes feel exaggerated.

Missing vulnerability

What made the 1997 original a memorable film was its willingness to let its heroes be human. Border didn’t just showcase soldiers; it showcased the psychological toll of the uniform.

When 2nd Lieutenant Dharamvir Singh (Akshaye Khanna) first faces the enemy, he doesn’t see a target; he sees a human being he has never met, questioning why he must pull the trigger. His bravery is born of a desperate need to honour his father’s legacy from the 1965 war. Beneath the olive green, he is a son terrified of leaving his mother alone, a vulnerability that felt real.

Captain Bhairon Singh (Suniel Shetty), despite his rugged exterior and intense training, is momentarily paralysed by the carnage of the battlefield. Similarly, Dharamvir goes into a shell-shocked silence after seeing a fellow soldier decapitated.

Scenes like these, that capture the vulnerability and emotional reality of soldiers – their fear, grief, and moral struggle, grounded Border. While Border 2 also depicts soldiers losing friends in combat, or Varun getting shocked seeing a Pakistani soldier he had confronted before the war, it focuses on the spectacle of the sacrifice, but the original focused on the weight of these moments.

Quiet patriotism vs. loud hostility

The 1997 Border showed restraint in portraying the “enemy.” For much of the film, the Pakistani soldiers are not shown – felt through the tension of the desert but not seen until the actual heat of battle. When they finally appeared, they were depicted as soldiers fighting for their flag, the film never felt the need to dehumanise them. The film never pushes the audience to hate them; the tension comes from the battlefield.

Border 2, on the other hand, leans heavily into the tropes of modern “rage-bait” cinema. The Pakistani armed forces are frequently shown hurling insults, repeatedly calling Indians “buzdil” (cowards) – a move designed to rile up the audience. It shows a shift in Indian cinema where hyper-nationalism has replaced quiet patriotism. In today’s polarised climate, portraying an enemy with any degree of humanity risks being labeled “anti-national.” The makers seem to have played it safe, choosing the guaranteed box-office high of hostility.

Even Sunny Deol’s character in the original responds firmly to enemy taunts, but the focus remains on bravery, duty, and the raw human stakes of war. Border 2 on the other hand chooses to shout down the opposition in a way that feels more like a social media comment section than a military confrontation.

How Border 2 loses the soul of war

What truly made Border stand out was its focus on the human cost of war. The film ended with a somber Major Chandpuri (Sunny Deol) mourning the lives lost on both sides of the border. The song “Mere Dushman Mere Bhai” drives the point home with its lyrics, asking how long the two countries will continue fighting while ignoring their own internal struggles like poverty and social issues. It ends on a note of hope about a future where both nations can prosper, showing the flags of both countries side by side.

Imagine attempting that today, calling your “enemy” a brother, wishing them well, and hoping for mutual prosperity. In this era, calling for empathy toward the “other side” is often branded as a betrayal. We saw this with the recent film Ikkis, which attempted to show a humane side of the enemy and was met with a relentless wave of online trolling.

Border 2, by contrast, largely avoids this humanistic lens barring a brief scene where Diljit Dosanjh’s character’s mother mentions that mothers on the other side also pray for their sons. Beyond that, the sequel lacks the moral weight and soul of its predecessor, feeling soulless.

Border 2 succeeds as a box-office powerhouse, but it fails as a successor to the 1997 film. As I remember the impact that final song had on me as a child – reminding me that every fallen soldier has a name and a home – I realise that Border 2 in comparison is just a loud, hollow echo.