Ramayana: Rise of a Legend

Finally, an Indian epic that stands alongside the world’s grandest cinematic spectacles. Nitesh Tiwari delivers a breathtaking cinematic spectacle without ever losing sight of Ramayana’s emotional core. Based on Valmiki’s poem, an ancient Hindu epic, Ramayana: Part 1 chronicles the events leading up to the battle between good and evil, embodied by Ayodhya’s Prince Ram and Lanka’s mighty king Raavan. Blessed with a boon from Brahma, Raavan is seemingly invincible, while Ram, the human incarnation of Lord Vishnu, is destined to be the one who vanquishes him.

For an entire generation, the clash of arrows between Ram, Ravan and their respective armies formed the highlight of Ramanand Sagar’s Ramayan. Every shot fired off their respective quiver resulted in divine friction pushing up sales of chintzy bow and arrow toy sets in shops and streets. But the moral fibre and human resolve at work in the age-old Hindu mythology of good winning over evil has a lot more complexity to offer than mere thrills. From poet Rabindranath Tagore to painter Raja Ravi Varma, it has inspired evaluation and expression from the greatest minds. How one construes Ramayana’s idealism is telling of one’s worldview – back when dharma meant duty not religion. Two episodes of Shyam Benegal’s Bharat Ek Khoj based on playwright Bhasa’s interpretation capture the essence of the Ramayana’s spiritual consciousness better than any of its sanctity-occupied counterparts. Over the years though, the Ramayana’s Hindu identity and safeguarding has taken precedence over lessons to be learned from its holy text. One senses this influence in the timing and telling of Nitesh Tiwari’s lavishly scaled drama. Abundant lotus sightings and motifs in Ayodhya’s depiction play on the optics fitting in a reigning regime’s political fetish if not formula.

If Indian literature ever had an all-time blockbuster, The Ramayana would sit right at the top. It might not have The Mahabharata’s endless moral tangles, but its characters, conflicts, and internal politics are still wide open to reimagining. The epic no longer belongs to Valmiki alone; it belongs to anyone who brings their own ideas, ethics, and worldview to the table. That feels like the exact spirit behind the disclaimer in Nitesh Tiwari’s Ramayana: Part 1. The filmmakers clearly know the minefield they are walking into. We are living through a hyper-sensitive, creatively cautious moment where the internet outrage engine will latch onto everything, from Ranbir Kapoor’s eating habits and Sai Pallavi’s political stance to A. R. Rahman’s faith. Just getting artists of this caliber to pool their instincts on a project built on a staggering, multi-crore budget feels like an act of defiance in itself.