Is this a review or a re-release? It’s a question worth pondering. Marking ten years since ‘Baahubali: The Beginning’ first graced cinemas in 2015, ‘Baahubali: The Epic’ isn’t just a simple rerun. This 255-minute spectacle is a completely re-edited and digitally remastered film, bringing both parts of the monumental Baahubali saga together into one cohesive experience, upgraded to meet today’s demanding digital projection standards.
Some of the original film’s more indulgent sequences have been thoughtfully cut, sharpening the focus on storytelling, which remains SS Rajamouli’s unparalleled forte. This remastered version notably improves upon ‘Baahubali: The Beginning,’ which, despite its epic narrative, famously left audiences hanging with the burning question: ‘Why did Kattappa kill Baahubali?’ That cliffhanger ignited a two-year wait and fueled one of Indian cinema’s most legendary marketing phenomena.
Rajamouli himself playfully taps into that decade-long anticipation with a humorous nod, a delightful moment reserved for those who experience it in the cinema. The magic of a re-release often comes from the audience’s unbridled excitement; they know every song, every line, every move, transforming the screening into a lively, interactive event. For a cultural landmark like Baahubali, still fresh in collective memory, this shared energy is amplified.
During a crucial scene, as Prabhas, portraying Mahendra Baahubali, poses the iconic question, “Nenu evarni…” (“Who am I?”), a thrilled fan’s spontaneous cry of “India’s biggest superstar” perfectly captures not just the enduring appeal of ‘Baahubali’ but also the indelible mark it has left on Indian cinematic history.
Baahubali: The Epic (Telugu)
Experiencing ‘Baahubali: The Epic’ at Hyderabad’s famed Prasads multiplex is a truly nostalgic event for anyone who recalls the unprecedented excitement surrounding the original ‘Baahubali’ releases.
Set in the mythical kingdom of Mahishmati during an ambiguous era, this epic superhero narrative, though grand in its scope, is deeply rooted in heartfelt emotional storytelling. When Sivagami powerfully declares, “Mahendra Baahubali brathakali” (“Mahendra Baahubali must live”), the audience echoes her sentiment with a resounding chorus.
Overall, the re-edited version ensures a smooth narrative. The sole slight disruption occurs during Rajamouli’s voiceover summarizing the romance between Avantika (Tamannaah Bhatia) and Shivudu, or Mahendra Baahubali (Prabhas), which is now a concise montage. This romance was a minor flaw in the original, and while its reduction is understandable, Avantika’s pivotal role in Shivudu’s transformation makes the trimming delicate. Fortunately, this brief, rushed voiceover is a small compromise in an otherwise captivating experience. Additionally, certain songs and portions of the intense Mahishmati–Kalakeya war have also been either shortened or completely cut.
The magic of re-experiencing ‘Baahubali’ stems not just from its epic scale but also from the subtle moments that lay its groundwork. Consider young Shivudu’s mesmerization by the towering waterfall and the enigmatic mountains beyond. Sivagami, in her dying breath, gestures towards the grand kingdom above, warning the boy of the ‘ghosts and demons’ that reside there. After countless failures, he finally conquers the treacherous cliffs when his destiny calls—a powerful symbol of self-realization. This same audacious spirit is echoed later when he ingeniously orchestrates the siege of Mahishmati’s fortress for the ultimate confrontation against Bhallaladeva (Rana Daggubati).
Mahendra’s clever use of simple, native tools cleverly reflects his father Amarendra Baahubali’s (also portrayed by Prabhas) tactical brilliance during the war against the formidable Kalakeyas.
This re-edited version beautifully emphasizes how epic action films can still offer significant roles for strong female characters. Devasena (Anushka Shetty) and Sivagami are pivotal to the unfolding drama. Devasena, in particular, commands respect through her numerous clashes with Sivagami and Bhallaladeva, fiercely defending a woman’s right to choose her own path and live with unwavering dignity.
The entire arc centered around Devasena and Amarendra impressively retains its initial enchantment, highlighting the natural ease with which Anushka Shetty and Prabhas embodied these roles. Intriguingly, Prabhas hasn’t quite recaptured the same dynamic presence and charisma in his subsequent films, nor has Anushka found a character that mirrors Devasena’s profound strength and intricate depth.
Rana Daggubati’s portrayal of Bhallaladeva is a captivating blend of raw power and a deep, unspoken longing—for the throne he craves and for the woman forever out of his reach. His poignant monologue, as he stares at the crown he has always desired, perfectly encapsulates both his fleeting triumph and profound emptiness. Sathyaraj, as the unwavering warrior Kattappa, bound by loyalty to the throne, delivers a truly moving performance, especially in the moments leading up to his tragic execution of Sivagami’s heartbreaking order.
The enduring appeal of ‘Baahubali’ resonates in its intimate, quiet moments just as much as its grand spectacles—from the monumental statue unveiling to the solemn coronation. Few scenes are as impactful as Sivagami’s silent, discerning gaze upon her two sons, as she quietly determines who among them is truly worthy of the crown.
While a decade has passed, revealing some age in the visual effects, especially in the sprawling landscapes of Mahishmati, this is easily offset by the brilliant contributions of Sabu Cyril’s production design, KK Senthil Kumar’s stunning cinematography, and MM Keeravani’s powerful, emotionally resonant music. The vibrant greenery of the Kuntala kingdom provides a striking contrast to Mahishmati’s earthy tones, and the iconic swan-shaped ship carrying Amarendra and Devasena aloft remains an awe-inspiring sight.
As Devasena watches that very same ship gracefully sail into Mahishmati’s waters, a chilling premonition settles over her, and the audience inevitably feels her disquiet.
Admittedly, the extended climax can feel a little protracted, particularly within the 255-minute runtime of this re-edited cut. Nevertheless, as the film concludes with a heartfelt note of thanks from SS Rajamouli, the audience remains captivated, unwilling to stir before erupting into yet another wave of applause.