Ramayana review: Ranbir Kapoor impresses, but Yash steals the show

Somewhere between admiring the sheer ambition of Ramayana and wondering when it would finally get to the point, I realised I was having two equally strong reactions: this is magnificent, and this needs an editor with considerably less patience.

Nitesh Tiwari’s epic gives a story many of us grew up watching on Doordarshan the full cinematic royal treatment. The world-building is impressive, the cinematography spectacular, and the scale frequently breathtaking. It also takes its own sweet time getting anywhere. Apparently, even destiny must wait for another beautifully captured shot.

Yet, despite the fatigue, I liked it. There is something deeply satisfying about watching this familiar story unfold with such visual confidence. I felt proud of the ambition on display. This is a world I would happily introduce my children to, although I would advise a bathroom visit before settling in.

At its heart is a hero who sacrifices personal happiness for the greater good, a premise with the emotional heft to travel across cultures. Think of the enduring appeal of The Odyssey: duty, separation, impossible choices and extraordinary creatures. Ramayana has all the ingredients for that kind of sweeping cinematic adventure. Its best passages deliver precisely that sense of wonder.

But first, we must discuss the pacing. The opening half is bloated, stretching moments that would have landed harder with less ceremony. Entrances become events, pauses acquire their own pauses, and getting from one dramatic point to another occasionally feels like an expedition.

The second half is far stronger. The story gathers urgency, the spectacle becomes more involving, and I found myself leaning into the film rather than waiting for it to move. A tighter first half would have made an enormous difference.

Then there is Yash. As Ravana, he understands the assignment and practically claims ownership of the screen. The demon king and his Asura army are among the film’s most impressive creations, giving its grand ambitions a formidable presence. Vivek Oberoi is another standout. Whenever these men appear, the film gets an unmistakable jolt of star power.

Ranbir Kapoor’s Ram takes longer to win you over. Playing someone so righteous, restrained and unfailingly pious is a tricky proposition, and I struggled initially to leave his previous screen personas at the door. The goodness felt something I was being asked to accept before I had quite connected with the man.

Towards the end, however, when anger enters the equation, Kapoor comes into his own. There is a force to those moments that makes his earlier composure more interesting.

Ravie Dubey’s Lakshman is a welcome spark: sprightly, engaging and capable of bringing life into all that solemnity.

The bigger disappointment is the romance. Between Kapoor’s Ram and Sai Pallavi’s Sita, I felt virtually no chemistry. For a love story carrying such enormous stakes, that is a significant gap. Sita herself felt underwhelming to me; I wanted to feel more of her presence beyond the importance the story assigns her.

Shurpanakha played by Rakul Preet, meanwhile, arrives with glamour and promptly changes the temperature. You notice her. In a film this stately, that injection of wicked energy is welcome.

Lara Dutta is effective as Kaikeyi, Bharat’s mother, whose jealousy sends Dashrath’s household into upheaval. Those scenes have genuine power. Beneath the crowns and royal obligations is a recognisable family disaster: insecurity taking hold, resentment gathering force, and everyone living with the consequences.

The rousing background score gives the spectacle another lift. Jatayu’s passages, too, capture the pleasure of seeing something remembered from childhood reimagined on this scale. These are the moments when the film’s ambition pays off, and you remember why you wanted to see it in a cinema.

I left impressed, proud and thoroughly tired. Ramayana is beautifully mounted, with enough imagination and conviction to make its familiar world worth entering again. Yash gives it thunder; the visuals give it grandeur. What it needs is greater trust that the audience can recognise a moment’s importance without being made to linger over it.

I would take my children. I would recommend the big screen. I would also quietly wish someone had been a little more ruthless in the editing room before inviting us to stay quite this long.