‘Baahubali: The Epic’ Movie Review: A Decade Later, SS Rajamouli's Vision Still Dwarfs Every Pretender

It’s impossible not to get emotional while watching Baahubali: The Epic. Not because the remastered, re-edited version of the two-part saga preserves the original’s depth, but because it reminds you of the countless hollow, copycat “mass” spectacles that have since tried to mimic its magic. The film is a pulsating reminder that even a decade later, when SS Rajamouli stands tall, everything else looks small.

Clocking in at nearly four hours—even the well-prepared audience gasped when they read that the duration was 225 minutes in the censor certificate that shows up before a film—the condensed epic unfolds like a "best of" Reel, a carefully curated narrative collage which chops off songs ('Pacha Bottesina', 'Manohari' and 'Kanna Nidurinchara' among others), trims down war sequences without losing the bite, and removes the romantic track between Prabhas and Tamannaah Bhatia entirely. Whenever exposition is needed, a voice-over steps in.

This results in a first half that feels rushed to a fault, with a breathless relay of information and action, where the story leaps from one grand set-piece to another. Rajamouli’s build-up for drama gives way to a breakneck rhythm, like a fast train skipping all the local stops. Yet, it is in those pauses, the small halts, that make Baahubali immortal.

Thankfully for Baahubali, the destination remains magnificent. When the iconic, high repeat value moments arrive (and they arrive in jaw-dropping succession), all is forgiven. The second half is where Baahubali: The Epic finds great form and fun, as it combines scale and storytelling with much more ease.

A still from 'Baahubali'

As one has history with the franchise, watching Baahubali: The Epic becomes both a micro and macro experience. You marvel at the precision of each frame while grasping its vast cultural imprint. It is the kind of gargantuan piece of work that pieces together the jigsaw puzzle that Indian cinema has been in the last ten years.

You see Prabhas before he became the poster boy of the pan-Indian phenomenon, and he is a vision of grace and power. He glides with such fine form, his acting is sincere and heroic, and his stardom feels more monumental in this fantastic IMAX version. Matching him blow for blow is Rana Daggubati’s deliciously menacing Bhallaladeva, culminating in the now-iconic shot that has inspired countless imitators: the hero’s face entering the frame as the villain glares, their eyes locking in defiance.

A still from 'Baahubali'

 You also see how the makers afforded their women remarkable agency, which has become a rarity in today’s spectacle-driven blockbusters. And you sense, vividly, how the cultural tide has turned.

Around 2019, a clip from Baahubali 2’s climax went viral on X, featuring warriors flinging themselves as human missiles via palm trees into a fortress. It was a bit of unbelievable action choreography which was ridiculed as “typical South Indian madness” by a section of international as well as Hindi film fans (those who were active on X would remember). The timing was crucial, though.

This was a few months before the pandemic, and the north Indian cinema-going audience was still largely untouched by what was to come on the big screen later: an onslaught of ‘mass’ south Indian films, which would completely alter and dominate their space. This was also a few years before the West encountered RRR and discovered the sheer audacity of Rajamouli’s vision.

Suddenly, the 'Baahubali action choreography' became aspirational. Everyone wanted to ape it, make it, profit from it. The gravity-defying ideas turned into reverential set pieces. No more laughed at, forever desired. The word “conviction” entered the cinematic lexicon, with many forgetting that for Rajamouli, it was just the garnish. The real secret sauce was always the writing.

Baahubali: The Epic, then, is a celebration of Indian storytelling at its most operatic. It brims with rousing melodrama, makes its overstuffed way through a thumping background score, and flings at you a team’s ambition so large it barely fits within the IMAX frames. You may have seen it before, but it still makes you sit back, wide-eyed and ready to experience its creator's magical vision all over again.