When the first look of Cocktail 2 dropped, most conversations weren’t about the plot. They weren’t about the performances either.
They were about Kriti Sanon’s body.
Within minutes, social media had turned into one giant fitness forum. Everyone wanted to know her workout routine. The comments were flooded with “she worked so hard for this”, “look at that transformation”, “body goals”, “she deserves this”.
And yes, she probably did work incredibly hard.
Actors train for months. They follow strict diets, sacrifice social lives, survive on little sleep, spend hours in the gym and dedicate themselves to looking believable on screen. That discipline deserves appreciation.
But somewhere between praising dedication and worshipping the final body, Bollywood quietly reminded us of an uncomfortable truth: women are still celebrated for how they look before they’re celebrated for what they do.
The conversation rarely stays on the performance.
Nobody is discussing Kriti’s dialogue delivery from the teaser. Nobody is breaking down her chemistry with the cast. Nobody is asking what emotional arc her character brings to the story.
Instead, we’re zooming into abs.
Shoulders.
Waist.
Legs.
The body becomes the headline long before the character does.
Ironically, this isn’t even new.
For decades, Bollywood has built entire promotional campaigns around female beauty transformations. Whether it was six-pack abs, dramatic weight loss, “revenge bodies,” bikini reveals or red-carpet appearances, actresses have consistently carried an invisible responsibility to arrive looking physically “worth the ticket.”
Male actors transform too.
Ranveer Singh gains weight.
Aamir Khan becomes unrecognisable.
Hrithik Roshan spends months training.
But discussions around them almost always end with questions like:
“How did he prepare for the role?”
Women, meanwhile, get:
“How did she get that waist?”
The difference is subtle but significant.
One celebrates preparation.
The other celebrates appearance.
That isn’t to say audiences shouldn’t admire physical discipline.
Fitness deserves appreciation regardless of gender.
If someone spends months working toward a goal, it’s natural to acknowledge the effort.
The problem begins when the body becomes more memorable than the performance.
We’ve reached a point where actresses are expected to launch every film looking like they emerged from a luxury fitness retreat.
Not because the role demands it.
Because the internet does.
And social media has only accelerated that expectation.
Algorithms reward before-and-after transformations.
Gym edits outperform acting montages.
Workout reels travel faster than interviews discussing craft.
In many ways, Bollywood isn’t creating the obsession anymore.
It’s feeding one audiences already have.
The industry’s marketing teams understand exactly what gets clicks.
A toned physique.
A glamorous photoshoot.
A viral dance number.
An impossibly sculpted body.
Those become the first talking points because they guarantee engagement.
But perhaps the more interesting question is why we continue rewarding this cycle.
Why is it easier to discuss an actress’s calorie deficit than her character development?
Why does a trailer become secondary to screenshots of someone’s body?
And why does every female transformation immediately become public property?
Kriti Sanon undoubtedly deserves credit for the commitment required to prepare for a physically demanding role.
But perhaps the biggest compliment we could give an actor isn’t, “You look incredible.”
It’s, “I can’t wait to see what your character becomes.”
Because eventually the abs fade.
The costumes get archived.
The gym routine changes.
The performance is what stays.
From outrage to applause: Why Bollywood’s objectification debate keeps changing depending on the film
A few weeks ago, social media was furious.
Peddi found itself at the centre of controversy after viewers criticised certain dialogues, camera angles and suggestive gestures involving Janhvi Kapoor. Many argued that the film objectified its female lead and reduced her presence to visual appeal rather than character.
Fast forward to today.
Another film arrives.
Another actress appears in revealing costumes.
Another camera lingers on her body.
Only this time, the internet isn’t angry.
It’s applauding.
Kriti Sanon’s appearance in Cocktail 2 has been celebrated across platforms. Her physical transformation has become the biggest talking point. Clips focusing on her styling, toned physique and glamorous screen presence have spread rapidly online, with many praising her confidence and dedication.
Which raises an uncomfortable question.
Did Bollywood suddenly stop objectifying women?
Or did audiences simply decide this version looked more acceptable?
The answer isn’t as straightforward as picking sides.
Objectification isn’t determined solely by how much skin an actor shows.
It’s about how the camera chooses to see them.
Cinema has a language of its own.
Close-ups.
Slow-motion shots.
Body pans.
Lighting.
Editing.
Music.
Everything tells the audience where to look.
Two actresses can wear equally revealing outfits, yet one scene can feel empowering while another feels purely voyeuristic.
The costume isn’t always the issue.
The gaze often is.
Film theorist Laura Mulvey famously described this as the male gaze, the idea that many films position women primarily as visual objects for viewers rather than fully realized characters.
Whether people agree entirely with that theory or not, it explains why similar scenes often provoke completely different reactions.
Sometimes audiences respond to intention.
Sometimes they respond to context.
And sometimes they respond to popularity.
That’s where the conversation around Peddi and Cocktail 2 becomes interesting.
In Peddi, criticism focused heavily on whether certain gestures and framing existed purely to sexualise Janhvi Kapoor.
With Cocktail 2, much of the conversation has shifted towards celebrating fitness, confidence and glamour instead.
Both discussions may contain elements of truth.
An actor can absolutely deserve praise for months of physical preparation.
A film can also deserve criticism if its camera repeatedly reduces that actor to body parts.
The two ideas aren’t mutually exclusive.
Perhaps the bigger issue is that Bollywood has conditioned audiences to discuss actresses through appearance before anything else.
Whether they’re criticised or praised, the conversation almost always begins with the body.
When actresses are covered, they’re analysed.
When they’re glamorous, they’re analysed.
When they’re modest, they’re analysed.
When they’re sensual, they’re analysed.
Either way, the body becomes the story.
Meanwhile, performances, dialogue, emotional arcs and character writing often take a back seat.
This isn’t about policing costumes.
Nor is it about demanding that actresses never embrace sensuality.
Cinema has always celebrated beauty.
There’s nothing inherently wrong with that.
The question is whether beauty becomes the only thing the audience is encouraged to notice.
Perhaps that’s why these debates feel increasingly inconsistent.
The internet isn’t always reacting to objectification itself.
Sometimes it’s reacting to whether it personally liked the presentation.
And those are two very different conversations.
Because if one film is criticized for reducing its heroine to close-ups while another is celebrated for doing something remarkably similar, then maybe our standards aren’t changing.
Maybe they’re simply becoming selective.
The real conversation shouldn’t be about whether an actress wears more or less.
It should be about whether, after the credits roll, we remember the woman, or only the way the camera looked at her.