Calling this a simple “review” feels almost inadequate. While it marks a decade since Baahubali: The Beginning first graced our screens in 2015, this isn’t just any re-release. The 255-minute Baahubali: The Epic has been meticulously re-edited and digitally remastered to meet modern cinematic standards, bringing both parts of the legendary saga together into one magnificent, cohesive film.
This new version significantly improves upon the original by skillfully trimming some of the more extended sequences, sharply focusing on what SS Rajamouli does best: compelling storytelling. The initial Baahubali: The Beginning captivated audiences with its grand narrative but notoriously left everyone hanging with the burning question: “Why did Kattappa kill Baahubali?” That cliffhanger fueled a two-year anticipation and one of Indian cinema’s most unforgettable marketing spectacles.
Interestingly, Rajamouli playfully nods to that legendary suspense with a humorous moment in this cut, a delightful surprise best experienced firsthand in the cinema. The magic of a re-release often comes from the audience itself; fans, knowing every line, song, and gesture by heart, transform the viewing into a vibrant, interactive performance. For a cultural touchstone like Baahubali, still deeply ingrained in public consciousness, this collective energy feels amplified tenfold.
In a standout moment, when Prabhas, playing Mahendra Baahubali, utters the iconic “Nenu evarni…” (“Who am I?”), a zealous fan’s spontaneous shout of “India’s biggest superstar” perfectly captured the film’s enduring appeal. This impromptu response highlighted not just Baahubali’s immense popularity but also the indelible mark it has left on Indian cinema history.
Baahubali: The Epic (Telugu)
Experiencing the film in Hyderabad, especially at the legendary Prasads multiplex, evokes a wave of nostalgia for anyone who vividly recalls the sheer excitement surrounding the original Baahubali releases.
Set in the mythical kingdom of Mahishmati, in an era left to the imagination, this truly indigenous superhero narrative boasts a magnificent scale, yet remains deeply rooted in heartfelt emotional storytelling. When Sivagami proclaims, “Mahendra Baahubali brathakali” (“Mahendra Baahubali must live”), the audience’s resounding chorus echoes her every word.
For the most part, the re-edited version ensures a wonderfully seamless narrative flow. The only slight stumble is Rajamouli’s voiceover that summarises the romance between Avantika (Tamannaah Bhatia) and Shivudu, or Mahendra Baahubali (Prabhas), now condensed into a fleeting montage. This romantic arc was a less compelling aspect even in the original, and while trimming it posed a challenge given Avantika’s pivotal role in Shivudu’s evolution, the brief voiceover is ultimately a small imperfection in an otherwise deeply immersive cinematic journey. Additionally, certain songs and portions of the Mahishmati–Kalakeya war have also been thoughtfully shortened or removed.
The enduring charm of Baahubali isn’t solely in its sweeping grandeur, but equally in the intimate moments that lay its foundation. Consider young Shivudu’s captivated gaze at the towering waterfall and the mysterious mountains beyond. When Sivagami draws her final breath, her last act is to point towards the majestic kingdom above, a place the boy is warned is inhabited by ghosts and demons. Yet, after innumerable attempts, he finally conquers the treacherous cliffs when fate calls — a powerful allegory for self-discovery and destiny. This same audacious spirit re-emerges later as he masterfully conceives innovative strategies to breach Mahishmati’s formidable fortress for the ultimate confrontation against Bhallaladeva (Rana Daggubati).
Mahendra’s natural talent for employing simple, ingenious tools perfectly echoes his father, Amarendra Baahubali (also played by Prabhas), and his brilliant resourcefulness during the war against the fierce Kalakeyas.
This re-edited version brilliantly emphasizes how even the grandest action spectacles can provide ample room for powerfully written female characters. Devasena (Anushka Shetty) and Sivagami are pivotal to the entire drama. Devasena, in particular, commands attention in her numerous clashes with Sivagami and Bhallaladeva, fiercely upholding a woman’s right to choose her companion and live with unyielding dignity.
The captivating dynamic between Devasena and Amarendra retains all its original magic, a powerful testament to how flawlessly Anushka Shetty and Prabhas embody their roles. It’s noteworthy that Prabhas hasn’t quite recaptured the same captivating agility and charisma in his subsequent performances, nor has Anushka discovered a character that fully rivals Devasena’s depth, strength, and intricate complexity.
Rana Daggubati’s portrayal of Bhallaladeva is a masterful blend of raw power and a silent, consuming longing – for the throne he so desperately desires and for the woman he could never possess. His monologue, as he fixates on the long-sought crown, brilliantly conveys both fleeting triumph and profound emptiness. Sathyaraj, as the fiercely loyal warrior Kattappa, delivers a truly poignant performance throughout the saga, especially in the moments leading up to his fulfillment of Sivagami’s heart-wrenching command.
The true allure of Baahubali resides equally in its understated, intimate scenes as it does in its epic, grand spectacles – from the awe-inspiring statue unveiling to the majestic coronation. Few moments rival the quiet grace of Sivagami as she watches her two sons, discerning with profound wisdom which one truly merits the crown.
While a decade has certainly passed, revealing minor signs of age in some visual effects, particularly within Mahishmati’s expansive landscapes, this is easily overshadowed. Sabu Cyril’s phenomenal production design, KK Senthil Kumar’s breathtaking cinematography, and MM Keeravani’s stirring, soul-elevating music more than compensate. The vibrant greens of the Kuntala kingdom stand in exquisite contrast to Mahishmati’s earthy tones, and the iconic swan-shaped ship carrying Amarendra and Devasena aloft remains an utterly breathtaking sight, even today.
As Devasena observes that very same ship gracefully entering Mahishmati’s waters, a chilling sense of foreboding washes over her, an unease impossible not to feel alongside her.
The extended climax, while spectacular, does feel a tad stretched, especially considering the re-edited version’s significant 255-minute runtime. Nevertheless, as the film concludes with a heartfelt note of gratitude from SS Rajamouli, the audience remains captivated, reluctant to stir until a final, enthusiastic round of applause erupts.