In most places, there is a pink-and-white wall with iron fencing. It has a gate that is kept and patrolled to prevent individuals from the nearby slum from crossing over to the opposite side, where educated and wealthy residents live. That image, in a figurative sense, represents the territory into which this film is entering. It's emphasised even further in the film's concluding scene, in which an aeroplane is shown flying right above the hutments of Mumbai's slum region.

Even though movie follows the conventional beats of a good sports drama, Nagraj Popatrao Manjule's Jhund is not an unambiguous sports biography.The film is a reflection on what we can do as a society to assist the have-nots in identifying their assets and crossing the threshold to the other, brighter side. In a pivotal scene of the film, set in Nagpur's bylanes and photographed beautifully, Amitabh's Vijay Borade (modelled on Vijay Barse, a retired sports professor who has trained numerous street kids in football and formed an NGO Slum Soccer) speaks adequately about it . The camera slickly romances the city's scenery, particularly the jhopadpatti (slum) where the film is set for the most part.

Although the proceedings in this piece begin slowly, they quickly gather up speed.Vijay Borade is on the verge of retiring from his position as a college sports professor, but he has no plans to do so just yet. He's motivated enough to offer free adult education seminars to the community at his home. His son's resistance is obvious but understated, as he wishes to pursue an education abroad. When Vijay notices kids in a nearby slum playing football with a plastic barrell, he begins to train them in the game, which eventually distracts them from their life of crime and drug addiction. But how far is he willing to go? Do they all give up their lives in the gloomy underbelly of crime and addiction?Is it possible for some or all of them to jump to the opposite side? All of this and more is addressed in the film's over three-hour duration.

Nagraj Popatrao Manjule succeeds in holding one's attention for the most of the film; but, the pace slackens in the second half, and the film may benefit from a tighter edit. Also, the pre-interval run is big on energy, while the post-interval run is high on drama – a better balance would have won the film a few more brownie points. In the first half, there are a few colourful people that add to the atmosphere and even provide some humour.While the plot progresses along, addressing a variety of topics, there is also enough effort made to portray some exciting on-field sports. Every spotlighted character's arcs and story loops have been well-crafted; nevertheless, if the editing had been more focused, it would have had a far higher impact.

The delicacy with which numerous subjects such as caste division, societal judgments, class difference, economic difference, and women's education and rights are interlaced into the narrative is one of the film's highlights. The disadvantage is that some of these concerns draw the audience's attention away from the proceedings, disrupting the story's general pace.

Words rarely suffice to express how well Amitabh Bachchan performs in the roles he selects.This time, he's a retired sports professor who, despite obstacles and financial limitations, uses his time and money to safeguard and nurture children from Nagpur's slums. He has excellent and complete control over every moment in which he appears, never overshadowing his squad of players and always giving them more strength. What particularly stands out is the assurance with which a group of over a dozen children and young adults, including Ankush (also Don/Ankush in the film), perform. They do a good job of keeping your attention. Despite their limited screen time, Rinku Rajguru and Aakash Thosar (who both appeared in Nagraj's Sairat) provide solid support to the rest of the ensemble.

To summarise, this is a dramatic sports film that may not have thrilling moments around every corner for you, but the message it seeks to make will hit you square in the face.