Ramayana (2026) review: A stunning visual spectacle better than some of Hollywood’s best movies, but questionable casting, forgettable music and the glorification of Ravana become its biggest weaknesses.
Ramayana: Rise of a Legend is one of the most ambitious cinematic projects ever undertaken by Indian cinema. Produced by Namit Malhotra under Prime Focus Studios, in association with DNEG and Yash’s Monster Mind Creations, the film is the first instalment of a planned two-part adaptation of the Ramayana. Interestingly, the project has been in the planning and making for around a decade, with Malhotra revealing in November 2024 that his journey to bring the epic to the big screen had begun years earlier. Officially announced in November, the film finally arrived in theatres worldwide on November 5, 2026.
Featuring Ranbir Kapoor as Rama, Sai Pallavi as Sita, Yash as Ravana and Ravi Dubey as Lakshmana, the production also brings together an extraordinary technical team. The music is a collaboration between Oscar-winning composer Hans Zimmer and A. R. Rahman, while the visual effects are handled by DNEG. With a reported budget of approximately ₹4,000 crore for the larger project, the expectations surrounding the film were understandably enormous.
Having watched it on the release day itself, I have rather mixed feelings. While the film delivers an extraordinary visual experience, its creative decisions, casting and, most importantly, its treatment of the original Valmiki Ramayana would leave many people disappointed, especially if they are familiar with the original story.
Visuals and Action: A Landmark for Indian Cinema
Let’s start with what the film gets absolutely right. You can disagree, but I think visually, this is definitely the best-looking production in Indian cinema. The cinematography, production design, environments and visual effects come together to create an enormous cinematic world. Whether it is Ayodhya, Lanka or the various supernatural environments, the sheer scale of the production is genuinely impressive.
The action sequences are the major highlight as well. In particular, the battle between Jatayu and Ravana is arguably the best sequence in the entire film, and it has been heavily appreciated. Its choreography, visual execution and sheer cinematic scale are extraordinary. Honestly, it looks better than many sequences in some of Hollywood’s biggest productions, including films like Avatar and Inception.
There are moments when you genuinely appreciate how far Indian filmmaking has progressed technically. The film demonstrates that Indian cinema is capable of producing visual spectacles that can compete with some of the biggest international productions.
However, impressive visuals cannot compensate for shortcomings in storytelling, and that is where the film begins to struggle.
Casting and Acting: Yash Stands Out
One of my biggest disappointments was the casting of Rama and Sita. Ranbir Kapoor and Sai Pallavi simply didn’t match the vibe I associate with these characters. Nope, not at all. This isn’t necessarily a question of their acting abilities. They acted quite well, in fact. Rather, I struggled to see them embodying the personalities, presence and divinity that these iconic figures demand.
Yash, on the other hand, delivers a terrific performance as Ravana. His screen presence, intensity and commanding personality make him one of the film’s strongest performers. He understands how to dominate a scene, and his performance is undoubtedly among the highlights.
However, appreciating Yash’s performance is entirely different from appreciating the characterisation of Ravana itself. The two should not be confused.
The Biggest Problems: Glorification of Ravana
This is where my biggest disagreement with the film lies. Thankfully, dozens of other reviewers have pointed this out as well.
Despite introducing Ravana and the asuras with the dialogue “Atyachari Asur”, as narrated by Jatayu, the film proceeds to construct an entirely different narrative around him. We are shown the Devas oppressing the Asuras, while the latter are portrayed as a suffering and marginalized community. Ravana subsequently emerges as their saviour, fighting against an oppressive ruling class and attempting to restore the dignity of his people.
Essentially, the film portrays him as a revolutionary leader, almost a communist liberator of the Asuras, although it never explicitly uses that terminology. The film never shows the atrocities of the Asuras and that Ravana was a villain driven by arrogance and lust.
So is this really the Ravana shown in the movie the one described in Valmiki’s Ramayana?
The original epic presents a considerably different character. Ravana was indeed an extraordinarily powerful ruler, a learned scholar and a devotee of Shiva. However, he was also arrogant, overly ambitious, violent. lustful and tyrannical. His knowledge and accomplishments never absolved him of his actions.
More importantly, his abduction of Sita was not simply some revolutionary act or an attempt to avenge his sister. His desire to possess Sita and his willingness to disregard her consent are central to his characterisation in the original narrative. In Sundara Kanda, he repeatedly threatens her and attempts to force her into submission.
The film’s decision to give considerable attention to Ravana’s grievances and his supposedly oppressed origins changes the moral framing of the character that we have known for years. Instead of presenting a powerful ruler whose arrogance ultimately leads to his downfall, it risks presenting him as a misunderstood savior who eventually becomes an anti-hero.
There is nothing wrong with exploring a villain’s motivations and backstory or acknowledging his strengths. But justifying an extremely monstrous character and glorifying his actions are two entirely different things.
The film also conveniently ignores Ravana’s history of mistreatment and atrocities against various other women, before Sita. It conveniently ignores Brahma’s curse as well.
Surpanakha: Another Major Departure
The treatment of Surpanakha, portrayed by Rakul Preet Singh, follows a similar pattern. According to Valmiki’s Aranya Kanda, Surpanakha approaches Rama after becoming infatuated with him and proposes marriage. Upon being rejected, she approaches Lakshmana, only to be rejected again. She subsequently returns to Rama and eventually attempts to attack Sita, intending to devour her. Lakshmana intervenes and mutilates her following Rama’s instruction.
The original narrative explicitly describes her as being overcome by desire. It does not portray her attraction towards Rama as some form of pure, selfless love.
However, the film gives her a considerably more sympathetic treatment, presenting her feelings as seemingly sincere and making her appear more like a victim of circumstances. This fundamentally changes the context of the incident. Lakshmana’s intervention, which occurs after Surpanakha threatens Sita, is shown differently in the 2026 Ramayan.
And this is precisely what bothers me. When you start changing the motivations and actions of established characters, you are no longer simply adapting the story. You are completely changing the narrative and moral framework through which audiences understand it.
Music and Background Score
Considering the collaboration between Hans Zimmer and A. R. Rahman, I expected considerably more from the music.
The background score does its job in several sequences, particularly when accompanying the larger action set pieces. However, the songs themselves are largely forgettable. For a cinematic adaptation of an epic with such enormous emotional and spiritual significance, I expected something considerably more memorable.
The music is not necessarily terrible, but it certainly doesn’t live up to the expectations created by the names involved.
Nitesh Tiwari’s History of Distorting Real-Life Stories and Cultural Narratives
Interestingly, this also brings me to Nitesh Tiwari’s earlier film, Dangal. In that film, he showed Mahavir Phogat feeding his daughters meat, (something he never did) suggesting that consuming animal flesh was necessary to provide them with sufficient protein and make them stronger wrestlers.
What makes this problematic is that Mahavir Phogat and his daughters have publicly spoken about their predominantly vegetarian dietary habits. More importantly, the suggestion that animal flesh is needed for building muscle or becoming a successful athlete is simply false. Athletes like Sushil Kumar and Manu Bhaker who brought us Olympic medals have proved that vegetarian diets can provide all the protein required for demanding athletic activities when properly planned. Even in the west there are numerous vegan athletes including wrestlers who has continued to prove why building muscle on a vegan or vegetarian diet is not just possible but also more efficient.
Tiwari had already taken considerable liberties to mispresent a real-life story in Dangal. And now, with Ramayana, he has taken even greater liberties with an epic whose characters and moral foundations have defined the culture of India for thousands of years. At some point, one has to question whether this director understands the responsibility that comes with adapting stories that are important to our history and our culture.
Final Verdict
Ramayana: Rise of a Legend is a complicated film to evaluate. On a technical level, it is an extraordinary achievement and arguably a landmark for Indian cinema. Its visuals, production design and action sequences demonstrate an ambition that does deserve recognition.
Unfortunately, the same cannot be said about every aspect of its storytelling. The casting didn’t work for me, the songs failed to leave an impression, and the characterisation of Ravana and Surpanakha raises serious questions about the filmmakers’ interpretation of Valmiki’s epic.
However, I can appreciate Yash’s performance without celebrating the character he portrays. And I can acknowledge the extraordinary visual achievement without pretending that the adaptation has done justice to the original epic.
Rating: 4 out 10. A visual masterpiece, but a disappointing adaptation of Valmiki’s Ramayana.
