It begins where another story ended. The screen glows with the fiery climax of Devasuram, where Mangalassery Neelakandan (Mohanlal), wounded but unbroken, chops off Mundakkal Shekharan’s (Napoleon) right hand. The familiar background score rises once more, pulling the audience back into that world of pride, rivalry and power. Then enters Karthikeyan, Neelakandan’s son, seated in a luxury vehicle, uttering the words that would soon become a cultural chant: “Savari Giri Giri.”
From that moment, Ravanaprabhu announces itself not as a mere sequel but as a reinvention of the Devasuram myth. Two decades later, as the film returns to theatres in a restored 4K version with Dolby Atmos sound, that swagger still holds its charge. The excitement around this Friday’s re-release is not just about nostalgia but about revisiting a time when fiery monologues and unfiltered swagger ruled Malayalam cinema.
At the heart of the buzz is Ernakulam’s EVM Kavitha Theatre, one of Kerala’s largest single screens with 1100 seats. Over the years, it has become synonymous with Mohanlal re-releases, hosting packed screenings of Spadikam, Devadoothan, Manichithrathazhu and recently Chotta Mumbai. Its owner, Saju Johny, says the response to Ravanaprabhu has surpassed even his expectations. “Looking at the advance bookings, I can already see a bigger rush than what we had for Chotta Mumbai during its re-release,” says Saju. “We have scheduled six shows a day for Ravanaprabhu. The main reason for all this excitement is Mohanlal’s powerful dialogues, especially since he appears in a double role. The film perfectly blends action, songs, dance and emotion, which makes it such an engaging experience on the big screen.”
He believes Ravanaprabhu is one of those rare films that bridges generations. “A lot of younger people who never had the chance to see it in theatres are coming this time,” he says. “We might not see the same kind of frenzy near the screens like we had during Chotta Mumbai, when people were dancing to the songs. However, those who truly cherish Ravanaprabhu will have a wonderful experience. Watching those fiery exchanges and powerful moments with a full crowd will be special.” For Saju, the re-release is also a reminder of the grandeur of single-screen cinema. “Films like Ravanaprabhu are best enjoyed in theatres like Kavitha,” he says. “Even during its original release, it ran successfully here, and I’m hoping history repeats itself.”
For screenwriter and subtitlist Vivek Ranjit, the re-release stirs both nostalgia and pride. “I was supposed to be in Dubai this week, but I told my friends I would watch Ravanaprabhu at Kavitha first and come the next day,” he says with a grin. Having subtitled the new version, he calls it one of his toughest and most satisfying assignments. “Even Spadikam and Valyettan were not this demanding. Some scenes went on for pages without a full stop. Matching those stretches while keeping the wordplay alive was a real challenge. But it gave me such creative satisfaction.”
For him, Ravanaprabhu showcases Mohanlal at his most dynamic. “People talk about his mass appeal, but this is also a performance-driven film. Neelakandan here is not the same man we saw in Devasuram. Some argue about timeline inconsistencies, but we hardly care. The storytelling is that convincing.”
Aby John Mathew, a media marketing professional and cinephile, believes Ravanaprabhu stands apart among Mohanlal’s mass entertainers for how it reshaped the image of the Malayalam superstar. “What makes Ravanaprabhu unique is how Mohanlal breaks away from the usual mundu-and-formal-shirt look that defined his larger-than-life roles in the nineties,” he says. “Here, he is in jeans, T-shirts and jackets, which perfectly suit Karthikeyan’s cocky, filthy-rich persona.”
He also sees Ravanaprabhu as Ranjith’s most self-assured writing, one that abandons glorified backstories for instinctive storytelling. “Ranjith often gives his heroes a redeeming virtue, but Karthikeyan is unapologetically self-entitled, reckless and free of moral restraint. Right or wrong, the film celebrates a kind of masculinity many Malayali men might secretly envy. A masculinity that is all about living life on one’s own terms without guilt or consequence.”
For many who grew up in the early 2000s, Ravanaprabhu lives more as a memory of television screens than theatre halls. Tony Davis, an aspiring filmmaker and comic book enthusiast, remembers watching the film's Onam premiere from his ancestral home in Thrissur. It was promoted as 'television charithrathil aadyamaayi (first time in the history of television),' an event that felt monumental at the time.
“It started at five in the evening, and from Karthikeyan’s Prado entrance, we were all hooked,” he recalls. “There were so many ad breaks and even a news bulletin in between. I fell asleep before the climax and woke up to my cousins saying it went on till around 12 am,” he laughs. “That’s why this re-release means a lot to me. It feels like I’m finally getting to watch it properly, on the big screen, the way it was meant to be seen.”
To its admirers, Ravanaprabhu remains the very picture of cinematic excess, revelling in its size, glamour and swagger with unflinching pride. Yet, in recent years, the film has also drawn criticism for celebrating a self-entitled, unrepentant hero. Some see it as a relic of a time when Malayalam cinema celebrated the unrestrained alpha male, while others argue it remains one of the most self-aware examples of that genre.
Yamini, a content writer working in Bengaluru, believes the film works precisely because it never pretends to be something else. “See Ravanaprabhu for what it is, a self-aware film centred on an alpha male that is prepared to give you an adrenaline rush,” she says. She feels that approaching it through the lens of political correctness misses the point, since the film “is unapologetically built around a self-entitled, reckless protagonist, much like many other mass entertainers of its kind.”
When Ravanaprabhu was released in 2001, some doubted whether Ranjith could do justice to Devasuram’s legacy. The scepticism faded quickly, and the film went on to become the year’s highest grosser, winning the Kerala State Film Award for Best Film with Popular Appeal and Aesthetic Value. Two decades later, it continues to occupy a singular place in Malayalam pop culture. Its one-liners and gestures, especially Vijayaraghavan's “Nadesha kollanda,” have long transcended the screen to live on in memes and everyday slang.
Now, as the film is set to roar back to life in theatres, that nostalgia is set to become a collective celebration. As Vivek and Aby reflect, Ravanaprabhu was always the one they were waiting to see again on the big screen. “Watching it now in 4K, surrounded by fans, will be something special,” they say. As Mohanlal returns as Karthikeyan on the big screen this Friday and his voice once again echoes through theatres, “Ee kali njan jayikkaan vendi kalikkunnatha” will carry a new weight. His swagger remains untouched, a reminder that some characters never bow, not even to time.
