Vikrant Massey proves once again that he can carry an entire film on his shoulders, even when surrounded by eccentric characters and a city slowly unraveling around him. His role requires a tricky balance of moral ambiguity and comic timing, and he nails both with effortless charm. Massey’s transformation from a curious journalist to a reluctant anti-hero is one of the most compelling arcs seen this year. His expressions do more than the dialogues, especially in scenes where his conscience starts cracking through his greed. What gives Blackout its unique energy is its tone—it never leans too far into slapstick nor into gritty noir. It exists somewhere in between, in a space that feels oddly real yet theatrical. The supporting cast is a riot, and the cinematography captures a city alive in its darkness. There’s also an undercurrent of satire that hits at modern obsessions—social media fame, online validation, and the absurdity of our dual identities in digital and real worlds. In an era flooded with formulaic thrillers, Blackout dares to play messy. It doesn’t tie every loose end with a bow, and it doesn’t spoon-feed its audience. That’s exactly why it feels so refreshing. This isn’t just another crime caper. It’s a cinematic all-nighter, and once you’re in, there’s no switching the lights back on until the credits roll.