In the world of Telugu cinema, where star power is the biggest hero, Pawan Kalyan’s latest film OG, directed by Sujeeth, is a full on mass entertainer. Released on 25th September 2025 this gangster drama takes you back to the 90’s Mumbai underbelly and blends old school with new school. While it prioritizes spectacle and hero worship over content, the film delivers a visual and audio treat that will make Pawan Kalyan fans go crazy. They Call Him OG is a love letter to the hero but the predictable plot and uneven character development prevents it from being a great film.
The story takes place in the dark ports of Mumbai, around Satya Dada (Prakash Raj), who runs a big shipping hub. Enter Mirajkar (Tej Sapru) a ruthless businessman whose ambitions to control the city lead to a series of violent confrontations. When a mysterious container full of explosives goes missing courtesy Omi Bhau (Emraan Hashmi), chaos erupts. Lives are lost, alliances are broken and the city is on the brink of war. It’s in this powder keg that the legend of Ojas Gambheera aka OG resurfaces from self imposed exile. As the story unfolds and peels off the layers of OG’s mysterious past, his connection with Satya Dada and the web of deceit spun by his enemies, you are thrown into a story of revenge, loyalty and power struggle. Without giving away the spoilers, let’s just say the story builds up to a climax that is formulaic but has enough punch for the genre fans.
At the core of They Call Him OG is Pawan Kalyan’s fantastic performance, a controlled intensity that cements his position as Telugu cinema’s biggest star. Sujeeth has written a role tailor made for the actor: a sophisticated and brutal gangster whose every entry is designed to make an impact. Pawan’s OG is a study in contrasts – elegant when still, explosive when in motion. His intro sequence, a balletic fight with raw energy, gets the cheer for the perfect blend of martial arts and unadulterated energy. Whether he is wielding a katana in shadowy duels or navigating tense interrogations in a rainy police station, Pawan commands the screen with vintage swag that reminds us of his early blockbusters. The interval block and the second half action sequences are the film’s high points and showcase his physicality. It’s Pawan who makes the film; he brings the style, swag and action to the material and it stays with you even after the credits roll. As one of his fans puts it, “Though the story is ordinary, Pawan Kalyan carries it with his style, swag and action.”
Kalyan is supported by an ensemble that shines in flashes but is often underutilized. Emraan Hashmi makes a stylish Telugu debut as the cunning Omi Bhau and brings a cool, calculated menace to the proceedings. His limited screen time is packed with understated threat. Sudhev Nair is good as Jimmy in the first half and Sriya Reddy is efficient as the key ally. Prakash Raj and Tej Sapru bring gravitas to the elder statesmen of this crime saga, but their characters are predictable and don’t have much of an arc. Priyanka Mohan, as OG’s emotional anchor, shares nice chemistry with Kalyan in the fleeting romantic interludes, but these romantic beats are truncated and we are left wanting more depth in the midst of all the testosterone.
Sujeeth’s direction is a double edged sword—ambitious in style but restrained by a script that prioritizes elevation over emotions. He’s great at fan service, sprinkling in clever nods (including some lovely Easter eggs for Saaho fans) and dialogue that crackles during the hero worship peaks. But the predictability kills the tension; confrontations, especially between OG and Omi, build up but fizzle into routine fights instead of intense rivalries. The second half drags with lulls that kill the momentum and relies on the climax’s bombast to salvage the pace. But Sujeeth’s vision of a “classy yet massy” gangster film is spot on; he turns Mumbai’s docks and dingy alleys into a neon lit playground of danger.
Technically, They Call Him OG is a masterpiece of excess and art. Thaman’s score is the film’s secret sauce, churning out adrenaline-fueled tracks that make every fight and chase scene a symphony. His background score doesn’t just support – it propels, adds grandeur to Pawan’s antics and makes the theatre vibrate. Cinematographers Ravi K. Chandran and Manoj Paramahamsa paint the screen with colours, capturing the era’s sepia tone and the grit of the city alongside bursts of red violence and blue night skies. They breathe life into Bombay’s ports, making every frame a postcard of urban decay and rebellion. Editor Naveen Nooli is razor sharp in the action scenes, but the 150 minute runtime could have been trimmed in the non-action parts. Production designer Avinash Kolla deserves a pat on the back for recreating 90s Mumbai with such authenticity – no detail, from the weathered warehouses to the period correct vehicles, feels out of place. This is big budget filmmaking at its most immersive where every rupee on screen screams ambition.
But for all its sheen, They Call Him OG falters where it matters most: in creating real emotional stakes. Underdeveloped supporting characters—Arjun Das and others disappear into the background—dilute the impact, while the family drama clashes awkwardly with the film’s profanity and violence. The romance is limited to stolen glances and hurried confessions and yearns for more and the central rivalry lacks the venom to make the climax truly unforgettable. These missteps make the narrative more a vehicle for spectacle than a story to savor.
In the end, They Call Him OG is unapologetically a treat for the fans—a high-octane tribute to Pawan Kalyan’s screen presence. Fans will gobble up the well-choreographed action blocks, the hero’s looks and those crowd-pleasing moments that turn a multiplex into a coliseum. For casual viewers it’s an occasional thrill amidst a sea of familiarity, a stylish detour into a gangster world that’s entertaining but not earth-shattering. In an industry that runs on star-driven epics, this film delivers exactly what its title promises: a larger-than-life OG who, katana in hand, reminds us why Pawan Kalyan is the people’s king.