With The B***ds of Bollywood, Aryan Khan proves he’s no star kid cliché

WEB DESK: A couple of years ago, media was abuzz with news about Hollywood nepo babies, more so those who get a shot without really having the knack for it. Eye brows were also raised at Bollywood which like any industry also has loads of stars due to their family connections. King Khan, Shah Rukh Khan’s children Suhana Khan and Aryan Khan have made their respective debuts in acting and production, and while Suhana’s acting chops are yet to be stamped, through The B***ds of Bollywood, it appears that Aryan is here to stay.

Aryan Khan’s debut web series The Bastards of Bollywood arrives with swagger, humour, and an unapologetic bite, proving the star kid is less interested in basking in legacy and more determined to carve his own space as a creator. Streaming on Netflix, the seven-episode satire takes a no-holds-barred look at the Hindi film industry, its glamour, chaos, nepotism, and quirks, and delivers a mix of outrageous fun and surprising emotional weight.

At its heart is Aasmaan Singh (Lakshya), a Delhi boy and outsider who lands in Mumbai with dreams of stardom. Backed by a failed-actor mother (Mona Singh) and a music-composer uncle (Manoj Pahwa), he gets his big break in Revolver, a film bankrolled by veteran producer Freddy Sodawallah (Manish Chaudhari). The movie’s success catapults him to overnight fame, but also entangles him in a messy three-film contract. Enter Karan Johar, playing himself, who ropes Aasmaan into his next film opposite star kid Karishma Talvar (Sahher Bambba), daughter of industry titan Ajay Talvar (Bobby Deol). Sparks fly, egos clash, and contracts crumble, while the series lampoons everything from PR gimmicks to star tantrums.

FIR filed against Shah Rukh Khan, Deepika Padukone

The writing, by Aryan Khan, Bilal Siddiqi and Manav Chauhan, is razor-sharp. The humour is outrageous but never flat, and the self-aware digs at Bollywood’s inner machinery land perfectly. Yes, echoes of Luck By Chance and other insider dramas are evident, but Aryan keeps the tone lighter, flashier, and more meme-worthy. The cameos, from Shah Rukh Khan to Ranveer Singh, are handled with cheeky brilliance.

Performances elevate the satire further. Lakshya is magnetic as the ambitious outsider, while Sahher Bambba matches his energy with grace. Bobby Deol leans into his larger-than-life superstar role, especially in the climax, while Raghav Juyal steals scenes with his comic timing. Supporting players like Rajat Bedi, Mona Singh and Manoj Pahwa bring surprising depth to what could have been caricatures.

Technically, the series has polish: slick editing by Nitin Baid, a racy background score, and glamorous costumes. The VFX occasionally falters, but the finale redeems it, delivering a jaw-dropping twist that justifies the audacious title.

What doesn’t work? Some contrivances, an unrealistic stunt sequence, plot points hinging on social media ignorance, and heavy-handed product placement, weaken the flow. But these are small blemishes in an otherwise raucously entertaining ride.

In the end, The B*****ds of Bollywood is more than a spoof; it’s a gutsy commentary wrapped in comedy. Aryan Khan proves he has both wit and nerve, creating a satire that Bollywood desperately needed. Love it or hate it, you won’t look away.