When Katrina Kaif first debuted in 2003, she didn’t know Hindi, couldn’t really dance, and looked stiff in front of the camera. People assumed—and perhaps they were correct—that she was only getting roles for her fair-skinned beauty and connection to Salman Khan. She was often cast to be “the girl” in movies, without anything substantial to do. Those movies were hits so she kept getting roles. But into the 2010s, her career hit an upswing. Kaif landed interesting characters in different kinds of movies. She improved her Hindi and her dancing skills, and she became more confident.

What I find fascinating about Katrina Kaif is that, even as an established leading actress, she seems willing to do smaller roles. Sometimes her role is just an extended cameo or a few dance numbers. On some level, these filmmakers and producers are relying on her to up the glamor quotient in their movie. But Kaif, ever the professional, brings something more to the table besides being sexy and a good dancer. Rather than trying to look effortless, Kaif shows her work. She pushes herself to the edge, even for what is nominally an item number.

I think about Laura Mulvey’s male gaze theory regarding Katrina Kaif a lot. The theory posits that women in visual media are presented through a heterosexual, masculine lens as sexual objects. The woman is a passive object to the camera, which sometimes leers at her. The item number fits nicely into this theory; the item girl is usually an anonymous woman who has no bearing on the plot but is just there to titillate the audience. When Kaif is tasked to do an item song, even in a film where she plays a major role, it would be easy for her to just rely on her stunning looks to capture attention. But instead she dedicates herself to intricate choreography and athleticism to make herself stand out.

Katrina Kaif in her own way resists being a passive object. She makes you take notice of her hard work and impressive talents. Take for instance, the gravity-defying stunts in “Suraiyya” from Thugs of Hindostan, the high-energy workout in “Chikni Chameli” in Agneepath, or the tongue-in-cheek “Sheila Ki Jawaani” in Tees Maar Khan. Kaif’s efforts make these memorable moments in their films. My favorite is “Kamli” from Dhoom: 3, in which she begins in overalls, a raincoat, and a hat, and strips down to a sports bra and shorts. The concept of the song seems a little leery, but its somewhat winking and creative filming plus the intense choreography make it more than that. You just have to admire her striking abilities (though, to be fair, some of her act was probably performed by a double). Even in these numbers, Katrina Kaif always seems to be in control of how the audience perceives her.

I wouldn’t say that Katrina Kaif is a natural actor like Kareena Kapoor, Vidya Balan or Anushka Sharma; she has a difficulty disappearing into characters. What she lacks in that regard, however, she makes up for in hard work, determination, and curiosity as a performer. In her interviews, Kaif is eloquent about what draws her to certain movies—the character, the filmmaker, the costar. She’s earnest and genuine about the work she does. And Kaif shows a loyalty to her friends, often returning to work with actors and filmmakers she has a good rapport with. When you look at her older films and then her newer ones, you can see how her attempts at improvement paid off. Her best roles like Mere Brother Ki Dulhan, Jagga Jasoos, the Tiger franchise, Bharat, and Zero show an excitement about doing different kinds of movies and a willingness to stretch her star persona as much as she can. Katrina Kaif has grown considerably since her debut; she had a lot to prove and she is working relentlessly to earn her success — even now.