Think of your favourite imagined world.
Maybe it’s Tolkien’s Middle Earth or Rowling’s magic-infused London. The endlessly warring realms of Star Wars or Dune. Or the endlessly whimsical planets that make up The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.
Within these worlds are languages that exist nowhere else; intricate maps and laws of physics; distinctive weaponry; architecture, math, even red tape.
World-building isn’t just a realm with an internal logic whose rules always hold. “It is also a world in which characters are shaped by these environments,” says film critic Baradwaj Rangan. “This is true whether the setting spans galaxies (as in Star Wars) or sits within a single neighbourhood (as in Gojira and Tokyo).”
Disney has been building worlds since 1955. But really, worldbuilding in cinema goes back to the start.
A few years after the Lumiere Brothers screened the world’s first-ever film, in 1895, Georges Méliès made A Trip to the Moon (1902), which created a fully imagined realm through painted backdrops, miniature models and trick photography. Its surreal moonscape, insect-like inhabitants and theatrical visual logic marked an early break from realism.
Not long after, in India, Dadasaheb Phalke’s Raja Harishchandra (1913) depicted epic realms using painted backdrops, optical illusions and elaborate sets of palaces and forests.
For over a century, much of Indian science-fiction would remain rooted in myth. Which meant that cinema didn’t build worlds so much as draw on existing ones.
Floating mountains and imagined beings arrived on screen already weighted with meaning. Their hierarchies were familiar, as were their moral codes. Even outstanding feuds merely had to be touched upon to be understood.
***
The first shift can be traced to the 1950s, a period when myths became a playground for invention.
In the Telugu film Mayabazar (1957), magical devices such as mirrors that enable video calls and chairs that serve as lie detectors appear in a retelling of the Mahabharata.
India’s first sci-fi film came a few years later. The Tamil release Kalai Arasi (Queen of Arts; 1963) featured a kidnapping by aliens and some space travel, all wrapped in a tale of romance.
Why weren’t we world-building on the scale of Star Wars (1977)?
This is a question film historian Theodore Bhaskaran loves to get, in arguments about Indian movie-making.
“Indian cinema was born in a colony!” he says. Never mind that we didn’t have the freedom to set up massive studio systems, acquire huge budgets and wealthy audiences, the fledgling industries that did exist operated amid censorship and the institutionalised hostility of a foreign power.
“One of the reasons myths were popular is because myths were safe,” he adds.
In addition, advanced visual effects depended on specialised optical hardware that was difficult to obtain, and exorbitant to import into India.
Infrastructure would lag, in fact, for decades after independence. While Hollywood had integrated film processing and effects labs by the 1950s, India did not acquire a comparable facility until the late 1970s. Large-scale productions were often sent abroad for format conversion and sound work, adding cost and time that discouraged experimentation.
***
Fast-forward a few decades, and we get to liberalisation, the rise of a new India, and the dawn of digital effects.
By 2003, an alien named Jadoo was winning hearts in the technologically uneven Hindi hit Koi… Mil Gaya. This marked an early commercial success for imagined-world storytelling in the mainstream. Spin-offs from 2006 on would focus on the superhero Krrish (son of Jadoo’s original human friend), with uneven results, but a change had begun.
In 2010, Rajinikanth and Aishwarya Rai Bachchan starred in the Tamil release Enthiran, about a robot who becomes his creator’s romantic rival. A sequel, 2.0, would follow, in 2018.
By 2011, Shah Rukh Khan was starring in Ra.One, again a mixed success — commercially, critically and in terms of technological prowess. Visual effects had improved, but felt overused. The plot felt confusing and lacked resonance: the film killed off its human protagonist early on and shifted the narrative to his videogame avatar, a lookalike superhero with limited emotional range.
The film packed in over 3,500 VFX shots (more than James Cameron’s first Avatar film would in 2009) and late-stage 3D conversion. The result was a sort of sensory overload, and an uneven experience.
Still, Ra.One made a profit. Its scale and levels of experimentation made it a technical turning point for Indian cinema.
***
Between Ra.One / Enthiran and 2.0, Indian cinema would change forever.
Baahubali (2015) would arrive in theatres, smashing records, shifting paradigms and giving India its first truly original example of cinematic worldbuilding.
A tale of dynastic betrayal and the rise of a lost heir sits at the heart of this Telugu-Tamil franchise. The young man must return to reclaim the throne of Mahishmati, a kingdom set within a self-contained mythic world of fortified cities, court politics and inherited codes of honour.
Released in dubbed versions in Hindi (and Malayalam), the Telugu-Tamil blockbuster would be the first non-Hindi Hindi chart-topper in Bollywood history, an event so unlikely, it sent warning tremors through that industry.
Beyond the two films released so far, the universe has since grown to include two animated series (The Lost Legends and Crown of Blood), a prequel novel trilogy (The Rise of Sivagami) and a line of licensed merchandise, with further expansions planned and more films in the works.
This isn’t just a sweeping tale. Created by V Vijayendra Prasad, it is a world of ivory towers and brutalist stone structures; bronze machinery and industrial warfare; culture, artistry and ancient lineage. The feral Kalakeya tribe, with its invented Kiliki language and scrap-metal weaponry, stands in stark contrast to the royal court’s Vedic imagery.
Director SS Rajamouli eventually developed an extensive “Mahishmati Bible”, outlining generations of lineage and political conflict to ground the film’s mythology.
***
The first film was five years in the making. In order to build convincing weapons, the production team set up a dedicated faux-weapons factory at Ramoji Film City in Hyderabad, and produced over 10,000 swords, spears and suits of armour.
Visual effects were handled by 17 studios worldwide.
The ₹60-crore Mahishmati city set, spread across 100 acres, still stands, and now serves as a tourist attraction.
Rajamouli’s world-building extended to blocking actors and crews for several years, says Meenakshi Shedde, South Asia curator and programmer for the Toronto and Berlin international film festivals. “That indicates that you are deeply invested. You’re not just building a world in the film. You’re building the conditions for that world to persist.”
***
It took vision, ambition and some intense planning to bring the world of Baahubali to life. But the stars aligned to make it possible too.
By 2010, when work on it began, visual effects had been effectively indigenised, with Indian studios that had long serviced Hollywood now delivering complex CGI for domestic production at a fraction of earlier costs. Tools such as pre-visualisation and LIDAR (Light Detection and Ranging) scans allowed worlds to be mapped digitally before sets were built. The first film was made on a budget of ₹180 crore and earned over ₹600 crore.
The nature of fantasy itself has shifted in its wake.
We now have tales of superheroes born in an India that was never colonised (the Telugu film Hanu-Man; 2024); a dystopian future India in which the rivers have dried up and society has fractured into three realms (Kalki 2898 AD; Telugu; 2024); an ocean that has turned against a cursed fishing community (Kingston; Tamil; 2025); and a woman who turns out to have ancient superpowers in present-day Bengaluru (Lokah Chapter 1; Malayalam; 2025).
Each is set in a distinct new world, governed by its own rules (and funded by growing budgets). Each is distinctly Indian, yet determinedly unfamiliar. Here’s a look at how some of these worlds were built.
.
* KALKI 2898 AD: A LAND OF THREE REALMS, SYNTHETIC FOOD, NEW CURRENCY
.
In the dystopian future of this film, people inhabit one of three realms.
Kashi is a scrappy city of extended drought and hyper-polluted air. It is peopled by scavengers, bounty hunters and street gangs who exchange labour, risk and obedience for Units, which can be used to access water, synthetic food and breathable air. Everyone here dreams of one day having a million Units, so they can move into The Complex.
The Complex is the ethereal overworld, a floating inverted pyramid peopled by the elite. It hoards clean air, water and greenery. But it isn’t paradise. It is ruled by the authoritarian Supreme Yaskin (Kamal Haasan), who is running a secret project centred on exploiting pregnancy and prophecy.
Hidden from both realms is Shambhala, a high-tech rebel stronghold shielded by an invisibility cloak. When you see it, it appears sprawled vertically, impossibly, across a mountainside. This world waits for Kalki to appear, and restore justice.
Meanwhile, the plot follows Sumathi (Deepika Padukone), a pregnant test subject fleeing the Complex, who turns for help to the 6,000-year-old warrior Ashwatthama (Amitabh Bachchan) and Bhairava (Prabhas), a cynical bounty hunter forced to reckon with his legendary past.
It took over 1,200 artists across three agencies — DNEG, ReDefine and Embassy Visual Effects — to realise director Nag Ashwin’s vision for this Telugu film.
Only about 30% of these worlds was built in a studio. The Complex was entirely computer-generated. So were Raider ships (manned by the forces of The Complex), a diminished Ganges, and much of the appearance of Ashwatthama.
“We had to design the ecosystem, economy, power systems, how people earn, who gets access to what,” Ashwin has said. This involved repeated pauses and resets as the team grappled with contradictions, refining and redefining until they were certain it could withstand scrutiny.
Made on a budget of about ₹600 crore, Kalki 2898 AD (2024) is one of Indian cinema’s biggest financial gambles, and biggest successes. It earned over ₹1,000 crore worldwide.
A sequel is in the works.
.
* HANU-MAN: MAGIC, MAYHEM, IN AN INDIA THAT WAS NEVER COLONISED
.
A young thief named Hanumanthu, injured in a fight and thrown into the sea, finds in the water a blood gem (rudhira mani), or fossilised drop of Hanuman’s blood.
Suddenly, he can outrun a cheetah, stop a speeding train, survive what should be fatal blows.
These abilities fluctuate with the rays of the sun, and recede after sunset.
Just that sequence took nearly three months to complete. HaloHues Studios drew on complex light behaviour to signal divinity. Sunlight refracts and ripples across the seabed, converging around the gem. Shafts of light lend the space a cathedral-like glow. Dynamic marine life, each creature animated rather than replicated, reacts to movements and currents.
It was important that the scene look real but not familiar, because the film is set in a parallel version of India; one untouched by colonialism and invasion.
Can Hanumanthu now defend this world, and its rudhira mani, from forces seeking to exploit them? Can he also win over the woman he loves, and help her rid their dystopian village of its feudal overlord?
A team of 400 VFX artists worked for over a year to complete over 2,000 VFX shots for the Telugu film, including superhuman leaps, shapeshifting forms, the climactic battle against a 10-headed Ravana.
Director Prasanth Varma had large parts of the fictional village built as a set. Alongside, a digital version was created, representing a 10-sq-km area. A 3D model charted the placement of rivers, hills, paths and structures, so that movement through the set and the digital world followed a precise geography.
Real-world textures were captured during extensive photographic surveys in the Paderu hill station of Andhra Pradesh, and used to make the sets and digital environment more realistic.
Made on a budget of about ₹40 crore, Hanu-Man (2024) was a breakout hit, earning over ₹300 crore worldwide and representing a new kind of math for mid-budget Indian superhero films. A sequel, Jai Hanuman, has since been announced.
.
* LOKAH CHAPTER 1: CHANDRA: A CLAN OF SUPERHEROES, DRAWN FROM FOREST LORE
.
This fantasy film was released with the clear intention of building a franchise. Scripts for all five chapters were completed before the first went into production.
Lokah Chapter 1: Chandra (2025) is rooted in the present: a lone young woman, renting a flat in Bengaluru, finds herself the potential object of violence. But that’s where the familiarity ends.
Drawing on Kerala’s ancient myths and folklore, the film now creates a superhero, Chandra (played by a striking Kalyani Priyadarshan; above), who doesn’t flinch when faced with the darkest sides of her city, because she doesn’t need to. She turns out to be a centuries-old yakshi (or protective force) who has always responded with righteous savagery when faced with a threat to herself or those unable to protect themselves.
Look closely and one can see the careful balancing act necessitated by a budget of only about ₹40 crore.
VFX is used sparingly and subtly in the Malayalam film directed by Dominic Arun. There is no grand entrance for the heroine; no great explosions, flight sequences or battle scenes. Forests and cityscapes serve as backdrops, with most of the movie shot on location.
Exquisite animation by Kochi-based Eunoians Studio tops things off, drawing it all together with art that skilfully blends cyberpunk, comic art and folk styles.
Aspiration must be matched to resources, says film critic Baradwaj Rangan. “One of the triumphs of Lokah lies in how well they got that right.”
Production designer Banglan says he and his team were “very clear about what we could afford, so the focus was on creating a visual language we could carry across the film”. The result leaves viewers feeling like they’ve walked into a familiar yet intriguing world, and would like to return.
Lokah Chapter 2 is scheduled for release in 2027. Chapter 3 is expected to feature Dulquer Salmaan and unite multiple mythic figures, including one played by Mammootty.
.
* KINGSTON: A SAVAGE OCEAN WORLD, AND ITS CURSED VILLAGE
.
Set almost entirely at sea, director Kamal Prakash draws on folklore from Tamil Nadu’s fishing communities to build a maritime world far removed from the familiar.
In a cursed, fictional village named Thoovathur, anyone who ventures out to fish either vanishes or washes up dead. One desperate and reckless young man, Kingston, decides to challenge the curse.
The sea isn’t on his side, though.
The more he tries to win it over, the more he learns about the secrets it holds.
In its depths lurk zombie-like forms, the remains of all those rendered undead by a sea that won’t let them go.
In one scene, nicknamed the Sea of Skeletons sequence, as his boat enters these cursed waters yet again, they transform into a shifting field of bones that moves with a dry, clattering rhythm.
Director Kamal says he knew early on that he couldn’t rely on large-scale digital ocean simulations if he wanted to tell an impactful tale. (It is still incredibly difficult and expensive to accurately render an ocean.) He also learnt the hard way that shooting on location was not an option. Lighting alone proved impossible to control.
How, then, to proceed, on a budget of ₹20 crore?
In order to create the world of Kingston (2025), Kamal’s team spent a week capturing daytime footage of the sea, roping in local fisherfolk for help with logistics and safety. This was then remastered, to turn day into night.
Alongside, Nxgen Media created about 3,000 carefully commissioned VFX shots. These simulated superstorms, deep-sea darkness and the sea zombies. Together, the ocean footage and VFX make up about 70% of the marine scenes.
The rest was shot on board a 60-ft-long wooden vessel, placed within a massive tank of water. Here, cinematographer Gokul Benoy opts for wide-angle lenses and unsteady handheld shots to build the sense that the ocean is closing in. The horizon is often kept out of view, trapping the viewer in an endless, unstable reality.
“We knew we were working with a fraction of the budget of films people would naturally compare us to,” Kamal says. “Everything had to be carefully calculated: what we built, what we simulated, what we simply suggested.”
.
* ANDHERA: ARE YOU AFRAID OF THE DARK?
This Amazon Prime series is on the list, even though it isn’t a movie, because of how unusual it is in terms of both story and execution.
Andhera (2025) treats darkness as a character; a metaphor for a disturbed mind.
The series opens with the disappearance of a young woman. This draws a police officer, a traumatised medical student and a paranormal vlogger into an investigation that leads to failed experiments around a cure for depression.
Set in real locations across Mumbai, the series turns familiarity into unease by subtly reworking how space, light and darkness behave. Creator Gaurav Desai describes the approach as urban Gothic horror rooted in recognition rather than invention. “When something unsettling happens in a world you know,” he says, “it engages you more. It stays with you longer.”
And so, everywhere in this Mumbai, whether at a hospital or on the city’s streets, something predatory appears to move just beneath the surface. Light offers no safety, leaving a cold sterility that ratchets up the tension.
“Crowds, traffic, ambient noise and colour were deliberately stripped away, leaving familiar spaces unnervingly silent,” says Desai. All the while (except for sudden, unexplained breaks in the tension and darkness that simply heighten the sense of unpredictability), the darkness moves, accumulates and asserts itself.
As it gains in strength, it changes. It is granted partial physical form, through a combination of practical effects and prosthetic sculpting. And manifests, eventually, into the world.
.
WHAT’S NEXT?
Expect a hyper-mythic phase, driven by virtual and AI-led production that generates environments in real time.
Budgets are undeniably growing, but more importantly, they are being redistributed. Instead of being absorbed almost entirely by star fees, large portions are now earmarked for pre-visualisation, performance capture and original IP creation.
A key example is AA22, the upcoming collaboration between Allu Arjun and director Atlee.
The Telugu film has been conceived as a sci-fi action spectacle centred on reincarnation, with Arjun reportedly playing four versions of his character across different timelines and realities.
Of the reported budget of ₹800 crore, the film allocates ₹250 crore to visual and special effects. AA22 will reportedly use performance-capture, 3D body scans and other virtual filmmaking tools associated with global franchises such as Avatar.
There is talk of an extended dragon-fight sequence.
Specialist international studios such as Spectral Motion and Fractured FX, alongside established VFX houses such as Lola, ILM Technoprops and Legacy Effects, will assist.
Expect more of all this, as each new project now looks to outdo its predecessors.
