May 9, 2025: The Royals Review: India’s rom-com game on OTT has long been crying out for something that isn’t afraid to be both fabulous and emotional, funny and self-aware. The Royals, streaming now on Netflix India, answers that call with the swagger of a prince galloping across a Rajasthani beach—shirtless, of course.
At first glance, this series is a sugar-coated fantasy wrapped in diamonds, palatial halls, and horse polo. But stay a little longer, and you’ll find it offers more than just sparkle. The Royals is a fresh-feeling, full-bodied romantic comedy that dares to blend Bollywood’s love for grandeur with the biting wit and genre-twisting charm of modern storytelling. It’s indulgent, yes, but never hollow.
The story revolves around two firecrackers: Aviraaj Singh, a prince reluctant to play monarch, and Sophia Shekhar, a no-nonsense entrepreneur with an ethical mission and a middle-class background. Predictably, they clash. Predictably, sparks fly. But what’s unpredictable is the emotional weight they carry beneath their banter, and how the series takes time to let them grow beyond their roles.
Their romance is the classic “opposites attract” trope done right. Aviraaj, played with smug charisma by Ishaan Khatter, starts as a walking cliché—the sculpted, spoiled royal. But as the story unfolds, we’re let into his vulnerabilities. Meanwhile, Bhumi Pednekar brings an incredible balance of boss-energy and emotional openness to Sophia, making her both aspirational and relatable. This isn’t just a love story—it’s a tale of two people rediscovering identity, purpose, and belonging.
Yes, the show delivers the OTT razzle-dazzle we expect—bejewelled turbans, vintage Bentleys, and rooms that look like Sanjay Leela Bhansali set foot in a Pinterest board. But The Royals uses its opulence to contrast the emotional realism beneath.
Supporting characters don’t feel like furniture. Sakshi Tanwar slays as the diamond-clad queen mother Padmaja, bringing nuance and gravitas to a role that could’ve easily been caricature. Zeenat Aman is a delight—sharp, seasoned, and effortlessly magnetic. And even the sidekicks shine: Lisa Mishra, Vihaan Samat, and Kavya Trehan all feel like characters worth following, not just background noise.
The Royals Review : More Than Just Pretty Palaces
The script smartly sprinkles in humour that feels current—think boardroom satire, startup culture digs, even a spoofed-up MasterChef segment. The writing is snappy, and although the Gen-Z lingo occasionally veers into cringe, most of it lands. There’s sass, soul, and enough meme-worthy moments to keep Instagram captions busy.
No crown without a few cracks, and The Royals has its share. At times, it teeters too far into extravagance. Some scenes feel like they exist purely for aesthetic shots rather than narrative progression. And yes, the understanding of how startups function still suffers from Bollywood’s notorious “laptop open = CEO” syndrome.
Also disappointing is how little the series mines from its most emotionally potent subplot—the late Maharaja Yuvnath Singh. For a character whose death sets off the entire chain of events, he’s barely given any space to resonate. A little more backstory, a few more flashbacks, and the emotional stakes would have soared.
Still, none of these flaws feel fatal. They’re just wrinkles in what is otherwise a gorgeously tailored sherwani of a show.
The Royals :All Hail the New-Age Rom-Com
The Royals is a refreshing contradiction: opulent yet grounded, dramatic yet self-aware, cheeky yet sincere. It’s not just a rom-com; it’s a reflection of a changing India—where tradition and modernity wrestle not just in politics and families, but in our love stories too.
This show isn’t perfect, and it’s not trying to be. It’s trying to have fun, tell a story with heart, and look good doing it. And in that, it succeeds beautifully. If you’re craving a light, feel-good binge with substance under the sparkle, then The Royals deserves a spot on your watchlist.