The RajaSaab

Maruthi's story shows a lot of promise. But Maruthi's screenplay is complicated and messy. The Telugu dialogues are okay, while Rohan Shukla’s Hindi translation is nice. Maruthi's direction is haphazard. To give credit where it's due, he has handled the grandeur nicely and also establishes an eerie atmosphere. The first half is just alright, but the flashback scenes of Kanakaraju are intriguing. The interval block is superb and it promises a dramatic second half. However, the film goes downhill in the post-interval portions. The characters are stuck in the haunted mansion; besides horror, there’s also a psychological element. Both these aspects could have led to a great and novel ride. However, writer-director Maruthi fails to utilize them properly. In fact, the goings-on become tedious and the extended climax is unbearable.

While the intent is refreshing, the execution sadly remains colourless and uninspiring. Prabhas woos pretty girls, dances with damsels, and even falls in love with a nun to showcase his romantic and comic side. His task in this fictional thriller is unique—he battles evil ghosts—but a dreary screenplay and deadpan humour dilute his efforts. The suspension-of-disbelief narrative offers little excitement, despite a few novel ideas. Casting three heroines opposite Prabhas turns out to be an overdose. Nidhhi Agerwal, Malavika Mohanan, and Riddhi Kumar are reduced to glamour props, with poorly etched roles that add nothing beyond visual appeal. Their presence, instead of enhancing the horror-comedy quotient, takes the sting out of it.

Before the release of Maruthi’s The Raja Saab, the audience was promised grandeur, humour, romance, and a touch of magic. Unfortunately for the Prabhas-starrer, whenever it makes an attempt at the above-mentioned romance, it tests your patience. The humour works in bits and pieces. And the less said about grandiosity and magic, the better. The ‘horror comedy romance’ never reaches its full potential after making you sit through an over-3-hour-long film.

But the only horror scenario I can imagine here is that the writer-director of this movie got possessed by a male teenager who has been watching way too many Instagram reels — the ones that alternatively feature seductive women, grandmother sentiments, melodramatic teleserial clips, cringe-inducing jokes, embarrassing dance sequences and male posturing, and stunning visual effects — and combine them all into a

The Raja Saab suffers primarily from an identity crisis. What was conceived as a simple horror-comedy gradually morphs into a lavish fantasy, seemingly driven by the belief that a Pan-India star demands constant grandeur. This approach works against the film. Maruthi’s biggest strength has always been rooted storytelling and situational comedy, but here, he prioritizes scale over script. As a result, the narrative feels outdated, directionless, and emotionally hollow. The second half, in particular, tests patience with stretched scenes and unfocused conflicts. Excessive green-mat usage, even for basic sequences, further distances the audience from the story. Despite a talented cast and massive budget, the film fails to deliver a coherent or engaging experience. Prabhas’ attempt at a lighter entertainer ends up being neither an effective comedy nor a convincing fantasy.

The film takes on a fairly complex subject matter, but it could have easily afforded itself clarity and coherence had the intent been well-defined. It also runs with the responsibility (or burden) of catering to a massive ‘pan-India’ fanbase, but with the superstar himself apparently in the mood to try something different, there was an equal chance to set a new precedent for today’s expensive moviemaking. However, even with an audience that feels willing to be lenient and forgiving, the film comes off as incredibly casual and unfocused. The central conflict of the story has parallels with multiple other works from across the world, including Venkat Prabhu’s Maanaadu (2021).