Picture this. A movie releases, showing a god in all his
glory. Suddenly the entire theater is buzzing with excitement. The audience
gets excited, people take out their phones to record, and fans watch quietly
with respect. That is the new reality in Indian cinema. Filmmakers have
discovered a surefire formula to pack theaters: do it in the name of God.
Since the pandemic, this trend exploded, especially in
Tollywood. It all began with Akhanda where Balakrishna’s portrayal of Aghora as
the protector of Hindu dharma captured hearts and headlines. The wave quickly
became a flood. Films like Brahmastra, Kantara, Adipurush, Odela 2, Mahavatar
Narasimha and even Kalki 2898 AD jumped on board, all promoting the idea of
Hindu gods, divine powers and cultural pride.
And the buzz does not stop. Rumors soar of upcoming
mega-projects featuring stars like Prabhas as Ravana or Parashurama. SS
Rajamouli’s SSMB29 is packed with Ramayana references. These are not just
movies. They are cinematic calls to spread dharma.
But here is the contradiction. The very producers selling
godly devotion loudly ask governments to raise ticket prices during these
releases. They turn sacred stories into business goldmines. It is faith mixed
with commerce, devotion tangled with rupees.
Yet there are exceptions that make us think. Take Mahavatar
Narasimha, a film made with around 40 crores. It did not have any ticket price
hike and ran at regular prices like any other movie. Despite this, it crossed
300 crores at the box office and is still running strong in theaters. This
shows that religious and devotional films can be massive hits without burdening
the audience with high ticket costs. It sets a good example in the industry and
raises the question why more producers don’t follow this path.
Audiences are riding this wave like never before. Even films
with new directors and lesser-known actors like HanuMan shocked the industry by
smashing box office records, all because of a compelling glimpse of Hanuman.
Tiny productions like Odela 2 also drew crowds purely on religious themes,
showing the audience’s hunger for this genre.
But there is more beneath the surface than spectacle and
worship. Real societal fears and debates fuel demand. Conspiracies about Hindu
persecution, worries about conversions and narratives of cultural erosion.
Films become a mirror reflecting these anxieties, providing identity, pride and
sometimes comfort.
Are filmmakers truly sincere in their religious portrayals?
It is complicated. Business often takes center stage. Look at Adipurush.
Director Om Raut’s emotional plea to theaters to honor Hanuman by leaving a
seat empty went viral, creating an image of reverence. Yet many viewers felt
the film took too many creative liberties, diluting the essence of Ramayana and
stirring disappointment.
How do audiences respond to such contradictions? Mostly they
shrug it off as poor directing but continue to flock eagerly to the next big
religious epic. The desire for spectacle beats out concerns over accuracy or
intention every time.
Looking forward, this trend shows no sign of slowing. With
so many “in the name of God” films coming up, filmmakers and producers see a
winning formula. Whether this focus enhances or limits Indian cinema’s creative
diversity remains up in the air.
If filmmakers want to hear one plea from the audience, stay
true to the scriptures. Do not twist sacred tales for cinematic liberty. And
stop calling these stories “mythology” when there is ample evidence supporting
their historicity. If your devotion is real, why push for high ticket prices
that block access for real fans?
In this clash of faith, commerce and culture, Indian
cinema’s love affair with Hindu gods has turned into an unexpected blockbuster
business. One with immense power and responsibility
