India's costliest film retells a beloved Hindu epic - but divides critics

Ramayana: Rise of a Legend is the first of two planned films retelling the Hindu epic Ramayana. It has opened worldwide, creating major expectations because the story is deeply familiar and culturally important across India and beyond. The film also represents an unusually ambitious attempt to present that story to a global audience.

Its scale is central to the event. The production reportedly costs $500m, brings together stars Ranbir Kapoor, Sai Pallavi and Yash, and uses visual-effects expertise from DNEG. Oscar-winning composers AR Rahman and Hans Zimmer created the music. The release also came days before Diwali, which celebrates Ram’s return to Ayodhya.

The reaction has been mixed. Some critics praised the spectacle, performances and adventure, while others found the acting uneven, the action clunky and the computer-generated imagery distracting. Part two will depict Ram’s battle with Ravana and is scheduled for release next year.

The Ramayana is one of Hinduism’s foundational epics. It follows a world of gods and demons, celestial weapons and mighty kingdoms, while exploring human ideas such as love, duty, loyalty, exile and war. Its influence comes from both its religious importance and its lasting storytelling power.

The epic has travelled across centuries and continents. It has appeared in poetry, temple sculpture, shadow puppetry, folk theatre, television and cinema. Its characters and events have also been passed through generations, allowing communities to encounter the story in different forms while preserving its central themes.

That endurance explains why new adaptations attract such attention. The Ramayana has outlasted kingdoms and empires and repeatedly found new life in popular culture. It has inspired religious devotion and political movements, so a major film adaptation is not simply entertainment. It engages with a story many viewers already regard as part of their spiritual and cultural inheritance.

Ramayana: Rise of a Legend is an exceptionally large production made in two parts for a reported $500m. That figure makes it India’s most expensive film. Its size reflects an effort to turn a vast sacred epic into a worldwide cinematic spectacle rather than a small-scale retelling.

The film brings together some of India’s biggest stars, including Ranbir Kapoor as Ram, Sai Pallavi as Sita and Yash as Ravana. Producer Namit Malhotra heads DNEG, the visual-effects company that worked on Hollywood blockbusters including Dune and Interstellar. The music is a collaboration between Oscar-winning composers AR Rahman and Hans Zimmer.

These resources support the film’s gods, demons, celestial weapons, kingdoms and sweeping landscapes. They also raise expectations. Some reviewers said the money clearly appears on screen, while others felt the effects became distracting or overshadowed the story. The second film, which will depict the central battle, is set to release next year.

The central story follows Ram, the virtuous prince of Ayodhya, and Sita, his wife. Ram is banished from his kingdom for 14 years and retreats to the forest with Sita. Their exile tests love, duty and loyalty, which are among the Ramayana’s enduring themes.

The crisis begins when Ravana, the 10-headed king of Lanka, kidnaps Sita. Ravana is a powerful warrior, but his pride brings him into conflict with Ram. Ram’s mission becomes the rescue of Sita, leading toward an epic battle between the exiled prince and the ruler of Lanka.

In the film, Ranbir Kapoor plays Ram, Sai Pallavi plays Sita and Yash plays Ravana. The first part establishes the exile and kidnapping. The battle itself will be shown in part two, which is expected next year. The story unfolds in a mythic world of gods, demons, celestial weapons and mighty kingdoms.

Critics responded differently because the film’s greatest strength is also its main risk. Its enormous scale creates spectacular landscapes, effects and fantasy imagery, but some reviewers felt the visual show overshadowed the story. Others believed the filmmakers successfully handled a sprawling narrative without being swallowed by it.

The reviews show this split clearly. Saibal Chatterjee praised the scale less than the storytelling and called the acting inconsistent. Rishabh Suri praised the performances and effects but found the first half sluggish and the music underwhelming. Shubhra Gupta called it the “perfect epic,” while IGN’s Siddhant Adlakha described the action as clunky and the CGI as an eyesore.

The English-language version added another disagreement. AI adjusted actors’ lip movements to improve accessibility for international audiences, but Adlakha criticised the result. The film’s ambition, pacing, technology and sacred source material therefore produced sharply different viewing experiences.

Ramanand Sagar’s 1987 television series set a powerful benchmark for later Ramayana adaptations. It reached audiences through simple sets and special effects, yet its emotional and devotional impact was enormous. Because so many people watched together, the series became part of shared national memory.

Sunday mornings reportedly fell into devotional stillness across India. Streets emptied, shops lowered their shutters and neighbours gathered around television sets. Some viewers bathed, lit incense and garlanded their screens before broadcasts. Arvind Rajagopal told the BBC that trains and buses stopped so passengers could watch roadside televisions.

This history affects how viewers judge newer versions. The lavish film offers advanced effects, international stars and a reported $500m budget, but it is compared with a series remembered for collective devotion rather than technical polish. That comparison helps explain why audiences may value familiarity, reverence and emotional connection as much as spectacle.

The Ramayana became more than a story because generations repeatedly carried it into religious and public life. The article describes it as one of Hinduism’s foundational epics, and its themes of duty, love, exile and war have supported religious devotion. Its endurance has allowed it to remain meaningful across changing societies.

Its influence appears in many forms. The epic has been expressed through poetry, temple sculpture, shadow puppetry, folk theatre, television and cinema. Stories passed down through generations kept it alive across centuries and continents. The 1987 television adaptation even created devotional viewing rituals, with some viewers lighting incense and garlanding their screens.

The epic has also outlasted kingdoms and empires and inspired political movements. That combination of sacred meaning, shared cultural practice and public symbolism makes every new adaptation significant. The new film’s global release therefore enters an already powerful tradition, while its mixed reception shows how difficult it is to balance reverence, memory, politics and spectacle.