The Raja Saab Review: A Superstar Lost in a Haunted Misfire

I walked into the theatre for The Raja Saab with a ticket I paid for myself, an early morning Hindi dubbed first day first show at 7:00 am, and a sense of professional obligation mixed with cautious curiosity. Watching films every week has trained my mind to tolerate mediocrity, even creative confusion, but there are rare instances when a film actively disturbs me, not emotionally in a good way, but mentally in a way that leaves me questioning how such decisions were approved at every stage. I genuinely did not expect that within the first nine days of a new year, I would encounter a film that would push me into that uncomfortable category. While watching this film, I honestly felt my life leaving my body, not metaphorically, but in the very real sense of fatigue, disbelief, and frustration piling up scene after scene.

Before I go any further, I want to establish one uncomfortable truth. This film can be tolerated, and possibly even enjoyed in fragments, only by hardcore fans of Prabhas. If you are someone who enjoys watching him merely exist on screen, observing his body language, his comfort, his playful indulgence in performance, then yes, you might feel your time and money are justified. I could see that he was enjoying himself. There was a looseness, a casual flow, a sense that he was having fun. Outside that fan bubble, however, serious questions arise, not only for him, but for the director, the writers, and anyone who allowed this script to reach the screen in this form. The most tragic part is that buried deep inside this mess is a high concept idea that could have justified the presence of a pan Indian superstar.

A Story That Promised Mystery but Delivered Monotony

I am not going to protect you from spoilers because, frankly, this film does not deserve that courtesy. The central premise introduces us to Raja Saab, a man deeply attached to his grandmother, a woman suffering from Alzheimer’s. Her memory comes and goes, but one constant remains, her longing for her husband, Raja Saab’s grandfather, who has been missing for years. That grandfather is played by Sanjay Dutt, and the grandmother’s last wish is to see him again.

A clue eventually leads Raja Saab and his companions to a massive haveli located in the middle of a dense forest. The journey itself defies logic. Characters climb mountains with ease, including a woman dressed in a sari that screams green screen from every angle. Practicality is thrown out early, but I was willing to ignore that if the narrative delivered something compelling. Once inside the haveli, the group is trapped, and this is where the film briefly touches greatness.

Sanjay Dutt’s character uses mind games rather than conventional magic. He manipulates perception, making characters believe horrifying illusions. A standout moment involves a character believing he is burning money, only to realise he feels he is setting his grandmother on fire. The confusion between reality and illusion is convincing in that moment, and for a brief second, I felt engaged. The idea of water filling rooms, crocodiles emerging, sand burying people alive, all within the confines of the haveli, is genuinely fascinating. Had the entire film revolved around this psychological and spatial manipulation, I might have walked out impressed.

When the Trailer Shows You the Only Good Parts

The film’s greatest sin is that almost everything of value was already shown in the trailer. The face off between Prabhas and Sanjay Dutt, which was marketed as the core conflict, appears only in the last twenty minutes. The high concept sequences involving monsters, crocodiles, sand, and mind bending illusions also appear almost entirely in the final stretch. That single scene I genuinely enjoyed arrives in the last half hour.

So what occupies the remaining two and a half hours. This is where The Raja Saab collapses completely.

A Love Polygon That Leads Nowhere

The bulk of the film focuses not on the haunted haveli or the psychological duel between hero and antagonist, but on Raja Saab being pursued by three women. One woman is introduced early, loyal to a fault, willing to steal five lakh rupees from her father just because he asks. When Raja Saab moves to another city, a second woman enters, equally enamoured. Later, a third woman appears, also in love with him. The screen time devoted to these characters far exceeds that of Sanjay Dutt’s villain.

Their contribution to the narrative is almost zero. They do not advance the plot, introduce twists, or influence the climax. In the final half hour, they disappear entirely. It feels like entire reels of footage were shot simply to pad runtime and create song opportunities. This is not romance, it is indulgent distraction.

False Promises and Missing Mysteries

At the interval, I still held onto hope. I believed the first half was merely setup. I expected the second half to explore the teased mystery of Raja Saab’s aged look from the initial posters and teasers. Was he trapped in the haveli for years. Did time affect him differently. Was there a deeper psychological or supernatural explanation.

None of that exists. The aged look is not in the film. Not for a single shot. The flipping visual teased earlier is also missing entirely. I genuinely do not know where or why those scenes were shot, but they were removed, replaced by repetitive romantic sequences that border on lust rather than love. The audacity peaks when, after nearly three hours of this ordeal, the makers announce a sequel. The confidence required to do that after delivering this product is almost admirable in its absurdity.

Comedy That Fails and Horror That Does Not Exist

I am not a fan of horror films, but this one manages the impossible by delivering horror that feels negative in impact. There is no fear, no tension, no atmosphere. Comedy fares no better. Whatever humour might exist in the original version is completely lost in the Hindi dub. The only moment I smiled was due to a visual reference when a woman looks at Prabhas and turns away. That recognition had nothing to do with dialogue.

The so called joker styled reveal of Prabhas at the end of the trailer appears for barely five to ten seconds in the film. That is it. The rest exists purely to announce part two.

Sitting Through It Became a Physical Struggle

I somehow survived the first half. The second half tested my endurance. As the repetitive love tracks resumed, my eyes began to close. I tried to convince myself to stay alert, reminding myself that this is my job. My phone lighting up with a message genuinely saved me from falling asleep. I even considered leaving the theatre. I posted about my misery on Instagram, and people reminded me that finishing the film was my responsibility. Somehow, I did.

The climax attempts to feel epic with loud music, action, and sudden superpowers, but by then, I cared only about one thing, that the film was ending.

A Superstar Let Down by Irresponsibility

At a certain point, frustration turned into anger. Not hatred in a literal sense, but a deep disappointment. Prabhas is not just another actor. He is a pan Indian phenomenon. When someone at that level chooses scripts like this, it reflects a lack of responsibility. The film itself even has a song where he refers to himself as number one. That confidence demands better judgment.

If I had to summarise the film brutally, it contains a grandmother with Alzheimer’s, a confused hero, multiple heroines with no purpose, a villain with wasted potential, a ghost, scattered incidents, and a screenplay with no aim. Boredom is abundant. Songs offer no rescue. Visual effects add no emotional value. Money spent feels unjustified. There are ten to twenty minutes in the climax where the concept shows promise, but even that is riddled with issues.

Problematic Portrayal of Women

One aspect that genuinely disturbed me was how women are treated in this film. Early on, Raja Saab claims women and flowers should be handled with care. Later, his behaviour contradicts that sentiment entirely. The film repeatedly portrays him as a womaniser, while women exist primarily to chase him, plead for acceptance, and dress in party wear even while entering haunted forts in forests pulling trolley bags.

The grandmother occasionally delivers dialogues about respecting women, but the narrative does not support those words. At its core, the film handles women very poorly.

Supporting Cast Wasted Beyond Repair

Sanjay Dutt appears sporadically, making noise without impact. Samuthirakani appears in a getup that reminded me of a cartoon character, complete with exaggerated moustache and beard, holding a stick and wandering aimlessly. His presence has no meaningful purpose. His connection to Malavika Mohanan feels forced and bizarre.

The heroines, including Nidhhi Agerwal and Riddhi Kumar, are given nothing to perform beyond surface level glamour. Expecting great performances would be unfair, but expecting basic narrative relevance is reasonable, and even that is missing.

Technical Effort Without Narrative Soul

Cinematographer Palani Karthik tries his best, but visuals cannot rescue a broken screenplay. Editing by Kotagiri Venkateswara Rao struggles to manage an unbearably long runtime. Music by Thaman S adds to the noise rather than the emotion.

Yes, the VFX has improved since early criticism. It is not terrible, but it is also not impressive enough to justify the focus. In some dance sequences, Prabhas looks digitally pasted onto moving vehicles. The effort is visible, but the soul is absent.

Final Thoughts, A Betrayal of Potential

By the time the film ended, relief outweighed every other emotion. I genuinely felt that Prabhas had been sold a different film, a smarter, high concept psychological fantasy, and what reached the audience was something else entirely. If the final half hour had been expanded into the entire film, this could have been a fascinating experience.

Cinema is subjective. What I disliked, you might tolerate or even enjoy. That is the beauty of film discourse. But for me, The Raja Saab stands as a cautionary tale about wasted potential, misplaced priorities, and the dangers of surrounding a strong idea with unnecessary clutter.

Rating: 1.5/5