This is phenomenal momentum for the Yash starrer, and the early advance bookings are indicating first-day business in the range of Rs. 45 crore to Rs. 55 crore in Hindi alone. The film is priced at the super blockbuster slab, matching the rates of Dhurandhar 2 and Spiderman: Brand New Day, and the initial craze is also matching some of the biggest Hindi films of all time.
The 6-hour sales of Toxic are higher than the 6-hour sales of bumper openers like Animal, Dhurandhar, Tiger 3 and Spider-Man, among others. The advances are solid all across the board, be it multiplexes or the single screens.
Toxic record breaks the only reason is YASH
Toxic is recording the second-biggest advance booking of 2026 after Dhurandhar 2, but one must note that the latter was a franchise, and this is a standalone original film, that too of Kannada origin.
Mesmerized by Nadia, a violent and increasingly “toxic” Raya loses focus on the empire he dreams of building. Their love story starts promisingly. Nadia holds a mirror up to Raya’s animalistic attitude. “Next time when you make love, I feel like you care about me and not feel attacked,” she tells him. For a while, Nadia seems to have some semblance of personality amid a host of characters who appear plastic (Sudev Nair, as Raaya’s trusted soldier, is completely wasted). But the relationship never blossoms into anything particularly interesting, as Toxic crams in one plot point after another. Ujwal Kulkarni’s choppy editing only makes matters worse, as does the film’s relentless showboating of Raya.
With Toxic, Yash makes it clear that he is, above all, an image-conscious star. The dialogues of his character, which he is now understood to have written, feel like they belong to the KGF universe. Even his dialogue delivery seems like an extension of his performance in KGF. None of it fits the world of Toxic.
Geetu Mohandas’ staging often feels painfully artificial. Characters stand around in fixed positions and deliver their lines, as though they are waiting for their turn to speak. There is little movement, spontaneity or unpredictability in these scenes; everything feels very carefully arranged and not particularly lived-in.
Raya turns to violence because, at one point, it is the only way he can save his sister Ganga (Nayanthara). But the violence soon becomes inseparable from him, clinging to him like a second skin. After a while though, the endless gunfire and action sequences begin to feel stale and exhausting. There is neither a compelling reason for Raya’s thirst for blood, nor a worthy adversary to challenge him, until his son Ticket (Yash again), jolts him out of his violent stupor.
Geetu Mohandas’ staging often feels painfully artificial. Characters stand around in fixed positions and deliver their lines, as though they are waiting for their turn to speak. There is little movement, spontaneity or unpredictability in these scenes; everything feels very carefully arranged and not particularly lived-in.
Raya turns to violence because, at one point, it is the only way he can save his sister Ganga (Nayanthara). But the violence soon becomes inseparable from him, clinging to him like a second skin. After a while though, the endless gunfire and action sequences begin to feel stale and exhausting. There is neither a compelling reason for Raya’s thirst for blood, nor a worthy adversary to challenge him, until his son Ticket (Yash again), jolts him out of his violent stupor.
Geetu Mohandas’ staging often feels painfully artificial. Characters stand around in fixed positions and deliver their lines, as though they are waiting for their turn to speak. There is little movement, spontaneity or unpredictability in these scenes; everything feels very carefully arranged and not particularly lived-in.
Raya turns to violence because, at one point, it is the only way he can save his sister Ganga (Nayanthara). But the violence soon becomes inseparable from him, clinging to him like a second skin. After a while though, the endless gunfire and action sequences begin to feel stale and exhausting. There is neither a compelling reason for Raya’s thirst for blood, nor a worthy adversary to challenge him, until his son Ticket (Yash again), jolts him out of his violent stupor.