Review: ‘Ramayana: Rise of a Legend’ just keeps topping itself in massiveness

Indian mythological epic Ramayana: Rise of a Legend begins with a massive snow battle with giants and a flying elephant ridden by a guy with lightning powers that, in any other fantasy movie, would be the climactic ending. In just the first half hour, a dude goes on a spiritual quest around the world, turns into a tree volcano, and becomes nearly immortal by making a deal with the creator not to destroy the world with his spiritual suffering. Then he single-handedly defeats an army, building an actual tower of defeated bodies as he pummels soldiers one by one. And there are still three ridiculously over-the-top hours to go after that. 

The first of two parts, Ramayana is a modern adaptation of the ancient Sanskrit epic poem of the same name, taking a very different approach to a foundational world text than Christopher Nolan did with The Odyssey. While Nolan focused on creating an ancient mythical world that felt tactile and tuned to modern societal decay, Tiwari leans into spectacle and grandeur, using Avatar-style special effects to make Ramayana as gigantic as possible. Perhaps equally important, showing that India’s film industry can compete globally with its own blockbuster extravaganzas. 

Admittedly, my preexisting knowledge of the Ramayana only extends as far as the Animal Collective-affiliated Prince Rama New Age group from the 2010s, which is to say next to nothing. I definitely didn’t understand everything going on or its significance, but here are the broad strokes. Ravana (Yash), once a peaceful scholar and musician, tries to help his people escape poverty and suffering by becoming nearly immortal (he can only be killed by a normal human, but not by any god or magical entity). In doing so, he becomes a monstrous despot. 

Enter Ram (Ranbir Kapoor), a human prince raised for greatness and an earthly incarnation of the god Vishnu, clearly set up as the universe’s opposition to Ravana’s chokehold on the world, though he doesn’t know it yet. Compared to Ravana, Ram is purely noble and good-natured, even as he often gets thrown curveball after curveball. There’s not much detailed character development across Ramayana’s massive cast, but because of the film’s scale, it matters less. Kapoor, in particular, makes Ram feel larger than life, ripped from a myth. 

Originally, the plan was to adapt Ram’s journey as a trilogy, then shorten it to two movies. But even at more than three hours, it’s clear there’s way too much plot here for just one movie. One climactic moment follows another, and its significance is dulled when another huge battle looms right around the corner. Somehow, though, I didn’t feel exhausted, but exhilarated just by the movie continuing to top itself in its massiveness. 

Part of that is likely my unfamiliarity with Bollywood movies, and while I don’t know how this compares, I was struck by how much watching Ramayana rekindled that feeling of an old Hollywood adventure movie. The big, bold colors, the sprawling cast and locations that span seemingly the entirety of India, massive amounts of gold jewelry, unreal castles—even when I would get a little lost in what the significance of a strange bird man was, Ramayana provided a sensory experience often missing from our blockbusters. Every scene is packed with so much detail that even a small moment never feels like a throwaway. 

I could drill down into more specific criticisms, but Ramayana was such an epic theatrical experience that they don’t seem to matter unless you hate joy. There’s such a powerful feeling of earnestness that I couldn’t help but feel swept into its world and already anticipate the next installment. In the meantime, I’ll be looking at Bollywood “Best of” lists and catching up. 

Note: Ramayana is being released in both Hindi and an English-dubbed version, which cuts about 30 minutes of material and uses AI manipulation to match the actors’ lips to the voiceover. Stick with the original version if you can.