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By:

Bharati Dubey

17 May 2026 at 1:38:10 am

Raja Shivaji sparks a new era for Marathi cinema

Mumbai: As Raja Shivaji marches steadily towards the Rs 100 crore mark, the film has reignited debate around the future of the Marathi film industry. Having already crossed Rs 80 crore at the Indian box office, the historical drama is now only the second Marathi film after Sairat to achieve the milestone. Its success has raised a larger question within the trade: can a major blockbuster finally attract sustained investment into Marathi cinema, an industry often marked by cycles of growth and...

Raja Shivaji sparks a new era for Marathi cinema

Mumbai: As Raja Shivaji marches steadily towards the Rs 100 crore mark, the film has reignited debate around the future of the Marathi film industry. Having already crossed Rs 80 crore at the Indian box office, the historical drama is now only the second Marathi film after Sairat to achieve the milestone. Its success has raised a larger question within the trade: can a major blockbuster finally attract sustained investment into Marathi cinema, an industry often marked by cycles of growth and slowdown? Much of the buzz surrounding the film stems from the support it received from prominent Hindi film stars, several of whom reportedly came on board to back the project and the industry. Trade analyst Girish Wankhede believes the film’s biggest achievement lies in the scale of collaboration it represents. “The real strength of Raja Shivaji lies in its creative ensemble star cast, which Riteish Deshmukh successfully brought together. By roping in heavyweight Hindi stars like Abhishek Bachchan, Sanjay Dutt, and Salman Khan, the film showcases the immense combined value of cross-industry collaboration. This strong gesture of Hindi cinema’s biggest names extending full support to a Marathi project has created a powerful impression, generating tremendous curiosity and respect for Marathi cinema among audiences, investors, and other industries. It underscores how Marathi films can now command pan-Indian attention and star power,” he says. At the same time, Wankhede feels it may still be premature to call the film a runaway commercial success given its production scale and costs. “What is heartening is the visible new energy and creative fuel that Riteish Deshmukh has infused into Marathi cinema. With him at the helm of affairs, the film looks strong and polished, and this momentum, further amplified by the star support, is already drawing serious attention from investors who were earlier hesitant about the regional space,” he adds. Producer Suniel Wadhwa, Co-Founder and Director of Karmic Films, says the film’s performance could play an important role in rebuilding investor confidence in theatrical cinema. “The success of Raja Shivaji could significantly improve investor confidence in theatrical cinema, especially at a time when many non-film investors have become cautious about the sector. If the film succeeds as a large-scale theatrical event rather than just an opening weekend phenomenon, it will reinforce the belief that culturally rooted Indian stories still possess massive commercial potential across regions and demographics,” he says. However, Wadhwa points out that the industry continues to face deep structural challenges. “One of the biggest is the shortage of true theatrical stars who can create urgency for audiences to step into cinemas. Streaming has created visibility, but not necessarily ticket-selling mythology. At the same time, India remains heavily under-screened, and even strong films often struggle with inadequate show slots, limited showcasing windows, and overcrowded release calendars. Many films today are judged within the first 48–72 hours, leaving little room for organic word-of-mouth growth,” he says. According to him, the theatrical business is evolving rather than disappearing. “Audiences are now reserving cinema outings for event-driven experiences — spectacle, emotion, mythology, action, horror-comedy, and culturally resonant storytelling. Films that can create that collective viewing urgency will continue to attract both audiences and serious investment capital,” he adds. The Marathi film industry has witnessed a mixed year so far. More than two dozen films have released, but only a handful — including Raja Shivaji, Kranti Vidyalay Marathi Madhyam, Aga Aga Sunbai Mahnatay Sasubai, and Super Duper — have performed strongly at the box office. Veteran journalist Dilip Thakur believes Marathi cinema has already begun regaining momentum after the slowdown caused by the pandemic. “New Marathi films are getting launched regularly. The upcoming film Bapya had its screening at Sunny Super Sound, which was attended by non-Marathi journalists in big numbers. The story of Bapya is complex and difficult to make. The point here is that a producer agreed to put his money into the film. Sabar Bonda was another difficult subject which won an award at Sundance. So, producers willing to invest money in such subjects is one positive sign,” he says. Thakur also points to the continued appetite for mainstream Marathi entertainers. “The boom after Sairat still exists in Marathi cinema. There was a setback for four years because of Covid, but the industry has gained momentum. Ravi Jadhav’s new film Fulawara, based on tamasha folk art, will soon go on floors in Pune,” he says. He further notes that Marathi cinema is increasingly attracting investors from outside the industry. “Most Marathi films have non-Marathi investors. They are putting in money because there is business in Marathi cinema. But not every film becomes a hit. Subhash Ghai also produced a few Marathi films. If the subject is good, people are willing to invest,” he adds. Not everyone, however, is convinced that one major hit can alter the industry’s fortunes overnight. Nitin Datar, president of the Cinema Owners Association, remains cautious about reading too much into the film’s success. “Only one film success is not going to bring investors. In the last five years, out of nearly 500 films produced, the success rate has not been encouraging,” he says. Datar acknowledges that the presence of Hindi stars has helped boost the film’s commercial appeal but stresses that Marathi cinema still lacks enough bankable stars capable of consistently drawing audiences to theatres. “The production houses and directors have attracted audiences. Unfortunately, producers haven’t been successful in attracting financial assistance, which has resulted in low production and advertising budgets. But if films succeed in pulling audiences over the weekend, exhibitors automatically increase shows and reduce screenings of underperforming films from other languages. The audience is always there, waiting to visit theatres in large numbers for a good film,” he says. For now, Raja Shivaji has undeniably given Marathi cinema a strong moment in the spotlight. Whether that momentum translates into long-term financial confidence and sustained industry growth remains the larger question.

Rashomon Rides West: A Retrial for The Outrage

Legendary Japanese filmmaker Akira Kurosawa (1910–1998) was shaped as much by American cinema as by Japanese tradition. American cinematic genres, be it the film noir, gangster pictures and above all, the Western coursed through his work. As a result, some of his masterpieces proved unusually hospitable to remakes.


Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai (1954) became ‘The Magnificent Seven’ (1960) while his ‘Yojimbo’ (1961) - itself indebted to Dashiell Hammett’s 1929 novel Red Harvest with shades of the 1958 Randolph Scott Western Buchanan Rides Alone - had a completely different recycled life as Sergio Leone’s ‘A Fistful of Dollars.’ This film not only kickstarted the European ‘Spaghetti Western’ genre but also turned a little-known television actor named Clint Eastwood into a global star.


It was perhaps inevitable that ‘Rashomon’ (1950), Kurosawa’s most radical and philosophically unsettling work based on the classic Japanese writer Ryūnosuke Akutagawa short story, would invite an American response.


Yet, the American reincarnation, ‘The Outrage’ (1964), has long endured disdain as an ill-advised remake of a sacred text. Directed by Martin Ritt, the film transposed Kurosawa’s timeless Japanese parable of truth and self-deception to the scrubland of the American Southwest in the late 19th century.


It was adapted not directly from the film but from the Fay and Michael Kanin Broadway play Rashomon (1959). Like the Japanese classic, the plot centres on a rape and a murder, retold by four witnesses whose testimonies never align. Each version reveals less about the crime than about the teller. These competing accounts unfold in flashback, and are told by three men sheltering from a storm, whose arguments over truth and human nature echo the film’s moral disquiet.


At the centre stands Juan Carrasco (played by an almost unrecognisable Paul Newman), a Mexican bandit accused of the assault of a woman (Claire Bloom) and the death of her husband (Laurence Harvey). Carrasco recounts the episode as a swaggering triumph of brute vitality. The husband, speaking through a medium, casts himself as an honour-bound aristocrat driven to suicide by disgrace. The woman’s version, alternately fragile and calculating, portrays abandonment by two men more loyal to pride than pity. A final, supposedly neutral witness offers a sober correction only to expose how even objectivity bends under the weight of self-interest.


At the time of its release, ‘The Outrage’ was generally met with critical hostility. Yet six decades on, it looks every bit a diamond in the rough - uneven, but thoroughly engrossing.


Much of the controversy rests on Paul Newman’s performance, cast against type as a Mexican bandit, based on Toshiro Mifune’s feral outlaw Tajōmaru in the original.


Newman was then at the height of his stardom, with three Best Actor nominations behind him and fresh from his iconic turns in ‘The Hustler’ (1961) and ‘Hud’ (1963). But in ‘The Outrage,’ Newman was accused of hamming it up, with his thick Mexican bandido accent, darkened skin, crooked teeth and a manic grin which seems to lend itself to a parody. In fact, his first appearance in the film – handcuffed to a tree stump and almost insouciantly listening to the charges against him - is startling.


Whatever critics may say, Newman stoutly defended the performance, and with good reason. Like Mifune’s bandit, his Carrasco is a grotesque projection of masculine bravado and myth-making. Newman committed himself fully, researching and pouring heart and soul into a role that risked absurdity in pursuit of something stranger and more unsettling.


Indeed, if one looks beyond his eight Oscar-nominated performances and his beloved blockbusters with Robert Redford, Newman’s so-called ‘misfires’ showcase some of his most interesting turns. One that immediately comes to mind is the eerily prescient ‘WUSA’ (1970) - a paranoid political drama that also featured Laurence Harvey. ‘The Outrage’ belongs to the same risky company.


Harvey, at the height of his success following his Oscar-nominated turn in ‘Room at the Top’ (1959) and the even more consequential ‘The Manchurian Candidate’ (1962), plays the wronged husband with icy hauteur.


The film’s scene-stealer is the stalwart Edward G. Robinson as the wonderfully cynical, though compassionate con-man who anchors the film.


As a staunch, yet hard-nosed liberal who consistently chose pungent themes dealing with truth, power and moral compromise, Ritt – who made such complex films like ‘The Spy who Came in from the Cold’ (1965) and ‘Sounder’ (1972) - was an ideal American interpreter of Kurosawa. While Kurosawa’s original remains a masterclass in cinematic form and moral inquiry that rewards endless rewatching, Ritt’s version is a worthy attempt that should be a bracing rediscovery.

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