When the news first broke out about the makers of Baahubali planning a re-releasing for their franchise as one single feature, there was as much excitement as curiosity among film-lovers. How will they pull it off — editing two iconic films of a collective duration of 5 hours and 11 minutes  — where every sequence almost unfolds like an elevation high point —into a combined feature of 3 hour 45 minutes. But here’s how the Baahubali makers were smart about it.

Avanthika’s (non)journey as a rebel warrior

Most of the changes made in the narrative are from the first part, Baahubali: The Beginning. There is a whole lot of build-up and context setting in this part, which was essential to take its time on its first release. However, this time, it’s merely perfunctory, and Rajamouli and his team recognises it.

The 2-hour-38-min first part film has boiled down to 1 hour 35 mins — and you sense the changes largely in the narrative rhythm, more than the chain of events.  The entire arc of establishing Avanthika’s (Tamannaah) mission as a rebel warrior, her reluctance towards the same, and budding love for Shivudu has been succinctly contained within a 90 second montage (with a voiceover by none other than Rajamouli himself). 

Similarly, the portions that establish the growing up years of Amrendra and Bhallaldeva, and their subdued competition to prove their worthiness for the king’s position, have been heavily trimmed too. 

And yet, admittedly, the narrative seems hurried in the first half — and it’s because Rajamouli had originally penned his screenplay in a way where those epic, larger-than-life sequences needed, and had, the time to breathe. It’s that decision to give them enough time is what made the pacing work then. In Baahubali: The Epic, the same monumental scenes look rushed.

A lesson in editing

And here’s the ‘lesson in editing’ I referred to, in the headline. The lesson is both for the Baahubali team, and the film-goers themselves — who must realise that there’s a reason why any larger-than-life film, be it Indian or American, is usually of a longer duration. It’s because the grandeur doesn’t just lie in the production scale or the visual frames — they also thrive in how each sequence unfolds. The grandeur will make its presence felt only if given time. Baahubali: The Beginning had the luxury, The first half of Baahubali: The Epic doesn’t. 

Meanwhile, The changes made in Baahubali: The Conclusion, i.e. the second half of Baahubali: The Epic are seamless. Besides ‘Kanna Nidurinchara’ and a few other brief tangential scenes, there’s nothing missing from Baahubali: The Conclusion in this revised theatrical cut. And that’s a great testament to the dramatic strength of this narrative and what makes the franchise great. The makers, after taking their time to set up the premise in Baahubali: The Beginning, proceeded with the drama with great finesse and brevity in Baahubali: The Conclusion, and that pacing is retained here too. 

Besides these handful of sequences that are removed in their entirety, you can hardly sense anything different this time. Kudos to the editor-director team here — they had to relook at their iconic film series with a fresh perspective, and somehow they found a way to make these scenes, brimming with drama and conflict, crisper and tighter without losing the momentum or making it seem rushed. 

How song sequences bear the brunt, except one

Meanwhile, it’s the songs that took the beating in this situation — Be it the ‘Manohari’ sequence (practically the only ‘item number’ in this film) or ‘Pacha Bottesi’ (the consolidatory love song with Shivudu and Avanthika). Their absence do not hurt the narrative much. The brief, playful sequence where Amrendra in disguises requests for a lullaby, and Devasena slyly obliges, which eventually builds up to ‘Kanna Nidurinchara’ has been removed.

And yet, Rajamouli couldn’t find it within himself to remove the ‘Hamsa Naava,’ which is technically a journey song — As Amrendra and Devasena find their way back to the Mahishmati Kingdom. 

Much like ‘Pacha Bottesi,’ this sequence doesn’t do much to take the narrative ahead. And yet, in a way, it’s the aesthetics of this entire song sequence — so fantastical, and well designed — that define the very ethos and essence of Rajamouli’s flair as a filmmaker. He doesn’t care for realism. Everything he does is larger-than-life, and he thrives in it. All Rajamouli wants is that every sequence should look like a high-point in its own space, even if it's not necessarily moving the story forward. Because sometimes, the aesthetics is the story itself. Out of all the songs in both the Baahubali films, it is the ‘Hamsa Naava’ song that captures it the best. 

To sum it up...

The Baahubali: The Epic makers put their best foot forward, and displays a great sense of objecvitity as they revisit their epic, fantastical narrative for both its existing fanbase and a new global audience that undoubtedly wants more of Rajamouli.

In the process, one realises there is plenty of new things to discover for both the Baahubali fans as well as the makers themselves. 

And besides the ambition, the cinematic finesse and the visual extravaganza, these new learnings as a film-lover add to the experience of revisiting Baahubali in theatres in its new form, making it a unique, fresh cinematic experience altogether.