And that, dear reader, is the real once-upon-a-time.
Kangana was just 23 when she shot the film. Her character is torn between the dignified Sultan (Devgn) and the dangerous Shoaib (Hashmi). Originally, her role was just eye-candy—a few songs and a weepy scene. Kangana famously fought with Luthria, demanding that Rehana have a spine. She improvised the climactic monologue where she slaps Shoaib and says, "Tum logon ki dosti mein dum hi nahi" (Your friendship has no strength). once upon a time in mumbai actors
Devgn is known in the industry as an “iceberg actor”—90% of his performance is submerged beneath the surface. To prepare, he didn’t visit the Mumbai underworld or meet gangsters. Instead, he sat in silence. He studied the stillness of power. Watch closely: his Sultan never raises his voice. Even when he slaps a rival, his face remains calm. That terrifying calmness came from Devgn’s own understanding of restraint—a trait he inherited from his action-director father, Veeru Devgn. And that, dear reader, is the real once-upon-a-time
Hashmi studied clips of Robert De Niro in The Untouchables and real footage of Dawood Ibrahim. He added a unique tic: Shoaib constantly smooths his hair back, as if physically pushing away any sentimentality. The result? By the climax, you forget you’re watching the guy from Murder —you’re just terrified of Shoaib. 3. Kangana Ranaut: The Wildcard Who Rewrote the Script As Rehana, the star-struck village girl who becomes a conflicted moll, Kangana Ranaut delivered a masterclass in vulnerability. But the interesting part happened off-screen. Originally, her role was just eye-candy—a few songs
Let’s pull back the velvet curtain on the three leads: Ajay Devgn, Emraan Hashmi, and Kangana Ranaut. Their real stories, struggles, and techniques are as dramatic as the film itself. Ajay Devgn played Sultan Mirza—a fictionalized version of the real-life don Haji Mastan. Sultan is a man who wants to be a kingpin with a conscience: he smuggles gold but builds hospitals, wears white khadi, and quotes Urdu poetry.
This was the film that broke Emraan Hashmi out of his "serial kisser" cage. Luthria took a massive risk casting him. At the time, critics saw Hashmi as a B-grade romantic hero. But Hashmi has admitted in interviews that he channeled a deep, personal rage into the role. He was tired of being underestimated. That raw hunger you see in Shoaib’s eyes? That’s not acting—that’s an actor fighting for legitimacy.