Raavan Movie Reviews

The epics return again to contemporary cinema. After a re-telling of the Mahabharata against a political backdrop in Prakash Jha's Raajneeti, cineastes can now feast their eyes on a modern-day rewrite of the Ramayana, against a cops-and-robbers canvas.  Feast? Yes. The high point of Mani Ratnam's film is primarily its visual opulence. The film is literally a work of art where one luminescent frame follows another

Mani Ratnam is God. For those born in the 1970s and 80s and dropped into the valley of cinema with the synthesised sound of Yeh haseen vadiyan. So it’s ironic that he would choose to show his demonic side with a film where he questions the roleplaying of bhagwan and rakshas. Raavan is Mani Ratnam’s rakshas, the Mr Hyde in the Dr Jekyll you don’t need to meet. It’s not without reason that Satyajit Ray never went

Mani Ratnam’s much beleaguered ‘Raavan’ has finally hit the screens and it’s a true feast for the eyes but the troubles that haunted it right throughout it’s shooting schedule has left it’s indelible mark on cohesion and coherence of the film. First cinematographer V Manikandan begged-off due to unspecified reasons and ace Santosh Sivan was brought on board, then came Mani’s health scare mid-way through the shoot

The low-caste Beera rules the forest in Raavan, Mani Ratnam’s richly atmospheric adaptation of the Indian epic The Ramayana. Though the film takes place in the present, Mr Ratnam’s forest remains an appropriately primeval place for mythic doings, full of fog and mists and rain and Beera’s mud-painted followers (shades of “Apocalypse Now”). Raavan (Ravana in Sanskrit), as every Indian knows, is the demon in The Ramayana who

Bollywood seems to have suddenly developed a predilection for mythology. Well, appears like our filmmakers can’t find enough in Hollywood to rip off and so they have sought divine intervention. While a week ago we dabbled with Raajneeti, the new age version of the Mahabharata, this week, Mani Ratnam and his favourite entourage bring to us a sort of new age version of the Ramayana in Raavan. Raavan begins with a lot of energy

You react in different ways to movies you don't like. Some people shift in their seats constantly, others SMS or tweet about how bad the film is, some nod off. Others keep walking out for regular breaks - or entirely - depending on their tolerance levels. Quite a few bad films, though, can be unintentionally hilarious. But then, there are films that just leave you drained, disappointed and flustered. Think Tashan. Nothing funny about

It's eerie how two very different directors with very distinct styles can gradually start mirroring each other's work. Mani Ratnam makes a film every few years, with the slow deliberation of one obsessed with every detail. The alarmingly prolific Ram Gopal Varma meanwhile seems to follow impulse ahead of scheme. Their diametrically opposed creative paths crossed in the early 1990s as the two got together and each is credited

There's nothing more disappointing than watching an accomplished filmmaker falter. It's happening a bit too often with Mani Ratnam; the man who redefined cinema with films like Nayakan, Anjali and Roja among others. For the last few years (since he succumbed to the star system), his films have largely been a big let-down. With Raavan, he takes yet another step backwards with his inconsistent storyline and wavering narrative. It's the season

n some versions of the Ramayan, the lines between heroes and villains are blurred, and the moral centre of the universe is not as graven in stone as it was in the most popular version, written by Sant Tulsidas. Sant Mani Ratnam’s re-telling of the epic attempts a classic subversion, with seriously mixed results. 'Raavan' is more miss than hit. Ratnam loses no time in declaring his intentions -- that this is going to be more Raavayan

Every once in a while, he hushes and shrieks: “Chiki-chiki-chiki-chiki-chik…” Those on cocaine are known to sound like this shaken box of Chiclets. But coke’s an urban drug, and he, I presume, is a bachelor, bumbling around naked in the rural badlands. His face is smeared with white mud, he growls, even sticks his tongue out, before he pats his own head and goes, “Bak bak bak bak…” Ok. Then. Beera (Abhishek), I suspect, is short

Sitting in your seat watching Mani Ratnam's "Raavan" unfold before you, is like craning your neck out of your car to catch a glimpse of the wreckage in a road accident on the other side. Filled with a perverse sense of curiosity, you can't take your eyes off the damage. Alas, "Raavan" - despite a relatively modest running time of 2 hours and 10 minutes - is a crushing bore of a film, a disappointment on virtually every count

It's time for the modern-day version of 'Ramayana' to unfold this Friday, exactly two weeks after 'Mahabharata'. The very thought of watching an epic in the present-day milieu only enhances the curiosity for the film. And if the present-day adaptation of 'Ramayana' is helmed by a master storyteller [Mani Ratnam], the moviegoer should, and must expect the moon. Nothing less would suffice.

For the many fans of Mani Ratnam’s sublime cinema, myself included, Raavan will be a disappointment. Mani sir takes the universal tale of the Ramayana, familiar to everyone in yearly Ram Leelas, and re tells it in a boring, trivial manner. Sure, Raavan has unexplored natural locations and is stunningly shot, with misty ravines, raging waterfalls and deep gorges filling the screen

Raavan will appeal to only the class audience in the big cities, not to the masses. Its weird climax is its bigges...