‘Ramayana: Part 1’ Wants To Bring Hinduism’s Epic Story To The World, But Falls Short
(REVIEW) One of Hinduism’s biggest stories is getting a major international theatrical release, including a wide release in the United States. The timing is probably no accident. Hinduism is one of the world’s largest religions — yet it receives relatively little attention in the West, particularly in the United States. That may be about to change.
Hindus make up the world’s third-largest religious group, behind Christians and Muslims. Approximately 1.2 billion people worldwide identify as Hindu, with about 95% living in India. In North America, the Hindu population grew to 3.6 million between 2010 and 2020, an increase of 55%. Much of this growth has been driven by rising immigration from India.
Against that backdrop, it makes sense that “Ramayana” is receiving a major U.S. and international release. The filmmakers are betting that an increasingly global audience will be interested in one of Hinduism’s foundational stories.
The Ramayana is an ancient Sanskrit epic that follows Rama, the seventh avatar of the Hindu deity Vishnu and prince of Ayodhya. After a series of trials and an extended exile, Rama must rescue his wife, Sita, from Ravana, the powerful king of Lanka. The Indian-produced film divides the epic into two parts. Nitesh Tiwari directs, while Namit Malhotra produces alongside Prime Focus Studios, DNEG and Monster Mind Creations. The score features music by A.R. Rahman and Hans Zimmer. Sony is handling international distribution.
Malhotra has said the goal is to pass the epic’s story and values on to a new generation.
“Why do we pray to Ram? Why do we love him so much? I want to introduce the foundation of that admiration,” he said. “There is a challenge and an opportunity in it. My mother knows Ramayana, but she doesn't watch movies. My sons are Marvel and DC fans, and they do not know Ramayana.”
The aim, Malhotra explained, is for older audiences to appreciate the film’s authenticity while younger viewers come for the visuals and discover the epic’s enduring ideals. Those ideals include “tolerance, duty and forgiveness,” values he believes are eroding among younger generations.
Comparisons have already emerged between “Ramayana” and Christopher Nolan’s “The Odyssey,” another major adaptation of an ancient epic arriving this year. Both stories are foundational texts for their respective civilizations, with the Ramayana holding a central place in South Asian culture and Homer’s Odyssey occupying a similar position in the Western literary tradition.
But the two adaptations approach their protagonists differently. Traditionally, the Ramayana emphasizes Rama’s virtues. Nolan, by contrast, has chosen to focus on the flaws and sins of Odysseus. Nolan addressed this approach in an interview, explaining that in a democratic culture that places such a high value on equality, filmmakers must find ways to make greatness palatable. Otherwise, audiences may reject it.
Even from the trailers, it was clear that the films would also take different approaches to religion and the supernatural. Nolan’s “The Odyssey” keeps the gods’ appearances ambiguous, leaving room for interpretation. (I discussed this in my review and in our accompanying podcast.) One look at “Ramayana: Part 1,” however, reveals a film that throws subtlety out the window. Its world is one in which gods, humans and fantastical creatures interact openly and routinely. The supernatural is not an unexplained possibility. It is simply part of reality.
There are several possible explanations for this difference. “The Odyssey” draws on a religious mythology that no longer functions as a widely practiced faith, while “Ramayana” is rooted in a living religion followed by more than a billion people. In that respect, “Ramayana” arguably has more in common with the biblical epics of Hollywood legends such as Cecil B. DeMille. Films like “The Ten Commandments” presented supernatural events in biblical stories as overt and unmistakable.
That approach differs considerably from films and television projects such as “The Passion of the Christ” and “The Chosen.” Those works often establish a veil between the natural and supernatural worlds, one that can be pierced by figures who operate on both sides, such as Jesus.
In many ways, “Ramayana” represents an enchanted view of the world, while “The Odyssey” represents a more disenchanted one. German sociologist Max Weber popularized the concept of disenchantment to describe the transition from a world in which people understood nature through supernatural forces to a modern one increasingly explained through rationality and natural processes.
Both films treat the gods and supernatural forces as real within their respective worlds. But they approach the challenge of making that reality believable differently. “Ramayana” makes its spiritual worldview plausible by presenting a world in which the supernatural is obvious. “The Odyssey” seeks to make its worldview compelling by presenting a world in which the supernatural is worth believing in, even when it is not immediately apparent.
As a writer covering faith and culture, I am always interested in the different ways filmmakers explore religious experience. Consider the post-secular, Jordan Peterson-esque spirituality associated with Nolan’s “The Odyssey,” the traditional evangelical, sermon-meets-rock-concert approach of “I Can Only Imagine 2,” or the sacramental and ritualistic Catholic expression of faith in “Conclave.” Each represents a different attempt to translate religious experience into cinematic language.
That makes the prospect of an enchanted spiritual worldview becoming the foundation for a globally successful fantasy blockbuster particularly exciting. Hollywood rarely gives audiences an opportunity to experience the supernatural through the perspective of a living, contemporary religion on this scale. I was genuinely eager to see “Ramayana: Part 1,” despite having little familiarity with the original source material.
Unfortunately, the movie is bad. Very, very bad.
“Ramayana: Part 1” is a bizarre viewing experience. It feels less like a story than an extended exposition dump, periodically interrupted by speeches and unearned moments of epic spectacle.
The film opens with what seems like an interminable “Lord of the Rings”-style prologue. A voiceover recounts the history of the gods and the conflict between the virtuous Devas and the evil Asuras, culminating in the Devas' victory. Once that exposition finally ends, we immediately meet Dashanan, whose mother urges him to avenge their defeat. What follows is another extended explanation of her motives, her backstory, her son's character and the world they inhabit. We never get much opportunity to know either character. We are simply told that Dashanan's mother wants revenge and that her son is a music-loving sage who prefers not to engage in violence.
Then, almost immediately after this speech, Dashanan embarks on a quest to meditate so intensely that he becomes like a tree, earning the opportunity to bargain with the gods for supernatural powers. The quest is over almost as quickly as it begins, explained through yet another voiceover. This leads into a massive battle in which Dashanan defeats the kingdom of Lanka, followed by a montage of him conquering the rest of the world.
The film never gives these events the emotional weight they deserve. Everything happens at such a breakneck pace that spectacle becomes a substitute for storytelling. The rest of the movie follows the same pattern. New characters appear, and we learn about them through speeches delivered by themselves or other characters. Then we watch them perform something supposedly epic. But it is difficult to care because the movie has not given us time to connect with anyone.
Rama, the protagonist, is perhaps the biggest victim of this approach. He is presented as a perfect, Superman-like, Christ-like hero. As an avatar of Vishnu, the Hindu god associated with preservation and protection, he is also a divine figure. Consequently, nearly every scene involving Rama seems designed to demonstrate his moral superiority or deliver another moment of heroic spectacle.
Whether he is finding the perfect way to obey a sage who summons him to fight while respecting his father's desire to protect him, accepting exile or resisting the advances of Dashanan's sister, Rama is always presented as an example to admire.
There is nothing inherently wrong with a morally pure protagonist. A character does not need to be flawed to be interesting. But a character does need humanity. Audiences need recognizable emotions and relatable struggles that allow them to experience the character's journey vicariously.
Think of “Superman: The Movie,” in which Clark Kent struggles with whether to reveal his identity to Lois Lane. Or “The Lord of the Rings,” in which Aragorn wrestles with his responsibility to claim the throne. Even Jesus, as portrayed in “The Chosen,” experiences grief over those who reject him. These characters are heroic, but their humanity makes their heroism meaningful.
Rama presumably experiences many of these same struggles. The problem is that the film tells us about them rather than allowing us to experience them. We are informed that he is virtuous, wise and self-sacrificing, but rarely given the opportunity to feel those qualities through his actions and relationships.
I have admittedly watched relatively few Indian-produced films. But the ones I have seen understand the basic principles of effective storytelling. “RRR,” for example, delivers the kind of gloriously over-the-top, maximalist spectacle that “Ramayana” seems to be pursuing. Yet “RRR” takes the time to establish its characters and communicate their emotions. Its outrageous action works because we understand who these people are and why their struggles matter.
The frustrating thing is that I have encountered “Ramayana's” storytelling approach many times before: in the faith-based film industry.
It is a depressingly familiar problem. Too many faith-based movies are constructed primarily to demonstrate how Christians should behave. The characters become examples, the dialogue becomes instruction, and the story exists to communicate a predetermined moral lesson. “Ramayana: Part 1” seems similarly invested in making audiences admire Rama and learn from his example.
That may be an understandable impulse, particularly for a film whose creators explicitly want to introduce younger generations to a foundational religious text. But it is also a recipe for bad art.
Dorothy Sayers explored this problem in her essay “Towards a Christian Aesthetic.” She argued that art goes wrong when it is reduced to either entertainment or propaganda. Both approaches prioritize producing a particular effect in the audience rather than honestly communicating something meaningful.
The entertainer tells audiences what they want to hear so they will pay for the experience. The propagandist tells audiences what they need to hear, at least according to the propagandist's worldview, so they will embrace a particular message. The artist, by contrast, offers truth and beauty for audiences to accept or reject on their own terms.
This distinction matters because audiences can recognize when a story is trying too hard to teach them something. A moral lesson is not a substitute for a compelling character, and admiration cannot simply be demanded through speeches and spectacle. It must be earned through the story itself.
“Ramayana: Part 1” deserves credit for attempting something ambitious: bringing a foundational Hindu epic to a global audience and embracing an enchanted spiritual worldview that mainstream Western cinema rarely explores. Its very existence represents an exciting opportunity for religious and cultural storytelling.
Unfortunately, its didactic approach undermines that ambition. Rather than trusting the power of its characters, mythology and spiritual vision to speak for themselves, the film constantly explains what audiences should think and feel. I wanted “Ramayana” to succeed. I wanted to see a major fantasy blockbuster introduce audiences to a living religious tradition through the kind of unapologetically enchanted storytelling that Hollywood rarely attempts. But if that vision is going to reach its full potential, someone else will have to make the movie.
“Ramayana: Part 1” is playing now in theaters.
Joseph Holmes is an award-nominated filmmaker and culture critic living in New York. He is co-host of the podcast “The Overthinkers” and its companion website theoverthinkersjournal.world, where he discusses art, culture and faith with his fellow overthinkers. His other work and contact info can be found at josephholmesstudios.com.