Is there more to Ramayana's VFX criticism? China's fantasy genre could have answers

The trailer of Namit Malhotra's Ramayana have triggered a sharp debate over their VFX quality. The discussion now centres on whether viewers are judging a stylised mythological fantasy by the wrong visual standard.

In Short

• Several trailer moments show strong scale, texture and praised costume design
• Forest and exile sequences appear flatter, with weaker lighting and CG
• Many viewers compare the film with Hollywood epics and Indian spectacles

Ever since its first glimpse, Namit Malhotra's Ramayana has been labelled artificial, plastic and, perhaps most dismissively, AI-generated. With each trailer, the same question has only grown louder: how does a film reportedly made for Rs 4,000 crore, backed by an Oscar-winning VFX studio, look so unconvincing to many viewers?

The obvious answer is that the VFX isn't good enough. But what if part of the backlash comes from judging Ramayana against a visual standard it was never trying to meet? What if its inspiration lies not in Hollywood-style photorealism, but in the heightened aesthetic of modern Chinese mythological fantasy? Before answering that, it's worth understanding what the criticism is actually responding to.

Credit where it's due

The inconsistency is the real issue. The Jatayu sequence, Ravana's arrival, the Pushpaka Vimana, Ravana's battle with Indra's celestial elephant, the Ram-Sita wedding, and the palace interiors of Ayodhya and Lanka all showcase convincing scale, texture, and production design, while the costume work has been widely praised.

The forest and exile portions, however, often look flat, with weightless CG environments, creatures and animals, lighting that struggles to blend actors with their surroundings, and the presumed Kumbhakarna reveal becoming one of the trailer's most criticised visuals. The quality varies from shot to shot rather than by setting or scale, reminding us that a distinct creative vision can still be unevenly executed.

Why the comparisons aren't neutral

Nearly every reaction lands on the same reference points: The Lord of the Rings, Dune, Gladiator, and closer to home, Baahubali, Sanjay Leela Bhansali's films, Kantara, and now Varanasi, whose own glimpse drew similar scepticism when it was released, but has since suddenly come to be viewed as visually superior to Ramayana, is a discussion in itself.

The benchmark is usually the same: fantasy epics should look real, weathered, dusty, and rooted in tangible locations. By that standard, Ramayana invites criticism. But that assumes it's trying to be Dune, Baahubali, or a Bhansali spectacle. It isn't. Dune uses photorealism to make the fantastical feel plausible. Ramayana is chasing a different visual language altogether.

Namit Malhotra's comparison of the film's roughly Rs 4,000 crore budget with Hollywood blockbusters arguably raised expectations of the same photoreal polish. But a budget isn't an aesthetic. Judging Ramayana by Hollywood or Indian fantasy standards mistakes a different creative ambition for a technical failure.

The style Ramayana might actually belong to

This comparison first surfaced on social media before finding its way into more serious film discussions. The more one explores, the harder it becomes to dismiss, not because it proves where Ramayana drew its inspiration from, but because it offers a different framework for understanding what the trailer may be trying to achieve.

Contemporary Chinese fantasy cinema spans several traditions: the grounded martial-arts world of Wuxia, Xianxia's mortals ascending toward immortality, Shenmo's gods, demons and cosmic wars drawn from classical mythology. Many share a common visual philosophy: they aren't trying to recreate reality, they're trying to visualise the divine. Instead of weathered cities and physically believable worlds, they embrace impossible architecture, celestial landscapes, radiant palaces and gods at a scale beyond ordinary experience. The objective is mythic grandeur, not photorealism.

The trailers for Creation of the Gods, The First Myth: Clash of Gods, League of Gods or Jade Dynasty, show a familiar visual language: gleaming celestial kingdoms, luminous palace interiors, gravity-defying movement, landscapes built to inspire awe rather than imitate nature are recurring choices. Whether achieved practically or digitally, the destination is the same: mythology on a scale reality cannot contain.

Viewed through that lens, Ramayana begins to look very different. Lanka, the pristine grandeur of Ayodhya, the Pushpaka Vimana gliding through painterly skies, and Vishnu's cosmic appearance seem more interested in evoking divinity than physical plausibility. No one involved with the film has cited Chinese fantasy cinema as an influence, so this remains an interpretation, but the visual similarities are striking enough to invite comparison.

That comparison also aligns with Namit Malhotra's ambition of taking the Ramayana to a global audience. Indian viewers already carry decades of visual memory through calendar art, television, comics, and earlier adaptations. International audiences do not. If the goal is to introduce the epic to first-time viewers, adopting a fantasy language that global audiences already recognise becomes a credible creative choice. In that sense, Ramayana often feels closer to the heightened, celestial aesthetic of modern Chinese mythological fantasy than the grounded realism of Hollywood fantasy.

Where the benefit of the doubt ends

None of this puts the filmmakers beyond criticism. Stylisation isn't automatically forgiven just because you can name the tradition it borrows from. Adipurush could have claimed the same creative freedom, and audiences rejected it anyway, because the execution didn't hold up regardless of tradition. Aesthetic intent can explain a choice. It can't excuse craft.

Not every inconsistency can be explained by artistic intent. VFX artists have long argued that uneven CGI is often the result of compressed deadlines, last-minute changes, and a 'fix it in post' workflow rather than creative choices. Some of Ramayana's weaker shots may simply reflect production pressures, not its visual philosophy.

The Rs 4,000 crore marketing narrative also raised expectations of Hollywood-level photorealism, making the backlash understandable. That's a marketing problem as much as a creative one. But the reverse question is equally important: should Ramayana be judged against what audiences expected it to be, or against the visual language its filmmakers were actually trying to create?

So, bad VFX, or the wrong lens?

The truth probably lies somewhere in the middle. Much of the criticism is valid: Ramayana contains both genuinely impressive visuals and noticeably weaker ones. But viewing it through the lens of celestial, stylised mythological fantasy, rather than photorealism, offers a more useful way to understand what it's attempting.

If Ramayana succeeds, it won't be because it looked realistic. It will be because its own visual language made audiences believe in its world. If it fails, no amount of artistic intent will explain that away.

- Ends