Beyond its regal visual effects, writer-director Maruthi’s fantasy horror comedy barely grips your imagination.
Rating: 
( 2 / 5)
By Mayur Lookhar
Ah, where do we even begin? Three hours later, one is so perplexed, so completely zonked, that you begin to feel a little like Gangadevi, Zarina Wahab’s elderly character battling Alzheimer’s. If 2025 saw Mohit Suri making a mockery of a serious medical condition under the garb of a blockbuster love story in Saiyaara, writer-director Maruthi is at least not insensitive. Here, Alzheimer’s functions as a narrative precursor to the backstory of the haunting, rather than the haunting itself.
Story
Gangadevi barely remembers the present, yet her eyes often fill with tears at the thought of her husband, Kanakaraju (Sanjay Dutt), who vanished while pursuing a traitor and never returned. Raju (Prabhas), who grew up on this story, had long dismissed it as nothing more than his grandmother’s imagination. But everything changes when he stumbles upon a visual of his grandfather near the Charminar. Driven by a mix of curiosity and dread, Raju sets out for Hyderabad. His journey leads him deep into the heart of a long-abandoned royal palace, now swallowed by the dense, eerie expanse of Narsapur Forest in Telangana.
This journey also introduces him to two young women, nun Bessy (Nidhhi Agerwal) and Bhairavi (Malavika Mohanan), with the eligible Raju losing his heart to each of them at different times. And if two weren’t enough, his childhood best friend Anitha (Riddhi Kumar) tracks him down to the forbidden palace.
Screenplay & Direction
Three women losing their hearts to one man, with all the drama packed into a horror-comedy framework. Finding love in a haunted space is straight out of the Ramsay Brothers’ playbook, but the RajaSaab conundrum would puzzle even a Ramsay Bros film. After an initially eerie setup, RajaSaab steadily veers into rom-com territory, with Prabhas introduced as the Rebel Star and the country’s most eligible bachelor. Soon, he instantly falls in love with Bessy, the nun, who likens him to Jesus, and it doesn’t take long before Bhairavi arrives uninvited into his life. Whether it is the man or the women, love strikes instantly, accompanied by a strong urge to get married. The feeling is rushed, almost like instant coffee, with Maruthi leaving it to the viewers to process and filter this sudden romance. In the process, though, Maruthi forgets that this is essentially a horror comedy. By the time, the film comes back on the track, the viewers are made to suffer a cringeworthy opening 60 odd minutes.
The pre-interval sequences promise an adventure-filled, spooky second half, but just a few minutes in, the viewer is likely to glance at the exit door or their phone screen. The Hindi dubbing and dialogues are subpar, and none of the cast manages to leave a lasting impression. This dada-dadi ki kahani, backed by top-notch production design and VFX, had potential, but Maruthi’s inept storytelling and misdirection quickly turn you off. Much like its antagonist, Maruthi is blessed with plenty of riches (a rumoured Rs450 crore budget), yet both end up squandering them – one out of greed, the other by investing more in optics than in storytelling.
Performances
Constantly hammering the demigod status isn’t enough, Maruthi even touts Rebel Star Prabhas’s relationship status, introducing him and his character as the Pan-India bachelor. The Hindi dubbing is questionable, but if you’re called a Pan-India star, you ought to be judged by pan-Indian sensibilities. Beyond the hype, what does Prabhas really bring? He often hams in the garb of acting; mere brawn can’t mask his fast-receding screen presence, compounded by his wooden dancing. Prabhas holds his own in action, but in this genre, it’s the VFX that drives the larger-than-life presence. Kalki 2898 AD lulled us into believing the Rebel Star was back, but another average showing in The RajaSaab, and the knives are likely to be out again.
Prabhas disappoints, but his heroines cut an even sorrier figure, reduced to academic roles where women simply must revere and love the hero. The very popular Malavika Mohanan and Nidhhi Agerwal will continue to draw whistles, but is that how they want their legacy defined?
The cringe cake, though, belongs to Zarina Wahab, who, rather surprisingly, is lost in an over-the-top Telugu dadi character.
With every turn in South cinema, and each performance worse than the preceding one, these opportunities for Sanjay Dutt increasingly look like largesse rather than earned.
The usually dependable Boman Irani is wasted in a frivolous cameo as Dr. Padmabhushan, a psychiatrist called to examine the haunted palace. His diagnosis leans toward the psychological, prescribing self-hypnosis as the key to breaking the evil’s hold. Who are we to challenge cognitive neuroscience, but such jargon feels far too weighty for a target audience simply seeking light-hearted entertainment in a horror comedy.
Music / Technical Aspects
The Telugu audience is best placed to judge the original music, but the Hindi adaptation feels far less engaging. Bappi Lahiri’s Koi Yahan Naache Naache gets an inventive twist in the remake, it appears as a dream sequence with Prabhas dancing alongside his leading ladies, all portrayed as glamorous sirens. However, the choreography fails to keep up with the song’s infectious energy. Interestingly, Lahiri’s ‘original’ hit itself drew inspiration from The Buggles’ iconic Video Killed the Radio Star.
Beyond the insipid screenplay and cringe-worthy performances, The RajaSaab shines through its stellar production design by Rajeevan, Karthik Palani’s breathtaking cinematography, and top-tier visual effects that deliver undeniable visual allure. The royal palace, dubbed a khandar (ruins) from outside, boasts interiors rivalling a (Mukeshl Ambani mansion – lavish library, expansive living room, gleaming hardwood floors, even an indoor pool. For an antagonist who started as a beggar, this evil spirit has mastered modern opulence, rendering the space far from haunted; gothic accents on the piano and decor merely amplify its majesty. With the devil’s schemes postponed until the third Amavasya, RajaSaab and the stranded guests can savour these luxuries uninterrupted and free of cost for nearly three months. Hey, isn’t this palace supposed to be haunted? In his desire for grandeur, Maruthi’s reduces his film to a palace tourism.
The action choreography, elevated by top-notch visual effects, stands as The RajaSaab’s biggest draw. Yes, Prabhas manhandling a crocodile, complete with a death roll- is far-fetched, but it showcases how far Indian cinema has progressed from Amitabh Bachchan lugging a rubber crocodile on his back in Gangaa Jamunaa Saraswathi (1988).
The climactic action and special effects are splendid. Interestingly, some of the scenes we saw in the trailer were missing from the film, which clearly indicates a sequel is coming up.
Final word
It is painful to see a promising plot not backed by skilled writing, a capable cast, or astute direction, with the filmmaker placing all his eggs in the VFX basket. Such an irony for someone called Maruthi. VFX alone does not make great cinema, but if Avatar is rightly likable purely for its visual mastery, The RajaSaab does turn a new corner in new-age Indian fantasy horror comedy. Normally, we pray bhoot pishach nikat na aave, but The RajaSaab is a visual experience that can only be savoured on the big screen.
Video review to follow.
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