The deep sound of the thunderous call, the warning, the deep cry of pain continues to echo in our ears long after we leave the cinema hall. The forest gods keep roaring in Rishabh Shetty’s Kantara films. First, Kantara (2022), and now, its prequel, Kantara: Chapter 1 are huge hits. The latter, which released in Indian theaters on October 2, has become the highest-grossing Indian film of 2025, surpassing box office returns. 500 crore within a week, based on data released by its producer, Hombale Films. ‘WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! There is surprise and outrage at the same time – writer-director-lead actor Shetty, the phonetic equivalent of the original Bhavana, influences Kantara films.
Granted Kantara is no stranger to Zha, the animated Chinese film series based on 16th-century mythological novels about gods and demons, whose second film was released in January and grossed more than $2 billion worldwide, but the genre is a storytelling paragon. In times of great military conflict, economic uncertainty caused by rapidly changing technological advancements and the looming climate crisis at large, we are deriving deep solace from mythology, fantasy, hero/legend-based narratives. At least four of the top 10 highest-grossing films this year are in, or close to, the genre—Superman, one of them, is certainly a modern myth.
The human-versus-nature conflict has a unique cultural currency in the post-pandemic world. Both Kantara and Kantara: Chapter 1 are based on the revered power of nature. Its wrath has to be feared and prevented. It reflects our social engagement towards the well-being of ourselves as well as the planet. It is so ubiquitous and pervasive that its seemingly “natural” effects on us cannot be ignored. Its ability to heal and balance us is a universally accepted truth.
However, box offices, like washing machines, run on fuzzy logic. Formulas work only to a certain extent. The story is usually the queen, but not always. Stars carry the burden for a long time. But mythology has always worked in Indian films – in recent times, it is even more visible than war. In terms of box office collections, both the Kantara films, especially Kantara: Chapter 1, did much better business than the two Hrithik Roshan starrer films, War (2019) and War 2 (2025).
Bahubali, Stree, Hanu-Mana, Mahavatar Narasimha, Lok: Chapter 1 – Mythology and folklore, superstitions, half-truths and urban legends have attracted Indian audiences to film theaters more than any other genre in the post-pandemic world. In Malayalam cinema, Lok: Chapter 1 – Chandra (2025) is adapted from the Malayalam folk tale Kalliankattu Neeli. Director Dominic Arun is currently working on a five-part franchise that brings to life more characters from Malayalam folklore.
Another mainstream example that worked across India, as Kantara has done, is Ayan Mukerji’s Brahmastra (2022) from Karan Johar’s Dharma Productions banner.
To understand Indians’ willingness to surrender to the comforting familiarity of mythology, let’s consider two storytelling milestones: the success of the lavish production of the 1975 blockbuster Jai Santoshi Maa or the mytho-fictional fury that author Amish unleashed with his 2012 best-selling book, The Immortals of Meluha. The first was issued a few months after then-Prime Minister Indira Gandhi declared a months-long social and political emergency. disturbance. Protests led by students and independence leaders came under fire at the central government over unemployment, poverty and crony capitalism. In the case of the latter, many of us are even closer to it than in ’75. Nationwide protests over corruption as well as a wave of national mourning over the death of a 23-year-old gang rape victim welcomed Tripathi’s book, which humanized the figures of gods and goddesses, turning powerful figures into everyday people (albeit, who lived in a mythical land a long time ago), doing good and being good. Were full of desire.
Indeed, familiarity with mythology and folklore gives filmmakers a unique advantage. Audiences already know the basic character traits, moral framework, and narrative arc – filmmakers have to creatively present them in new, visually spectacular ways. The only demanding task for writers is world-building.
Kantara films have performed flawlessly so far.
Kantara: Chapter 1, like the first film, is an action-packed revenge drama, with VFX calisthenics much better than usual, and a hero so courageous and manly that he borders on caricature. These South Indian cinema films are as old as Rajinikanth’s films of the ’70s. But what sets these films apart is the original story that Shetty and his producing partner, Bengaluru-based Homble Films, do in the original story, using Karnataka’s ghost art traditions seen in the state’s tribal communities. The emotional center of the second film is the ancient bond between man and divinity, which tribal knowledge stores believe preserves the friendship between man and nature. Shetty treats this thread, the thread that alone elevates the Kantara, to poetic proportions with reverence and beauty. He uses sound elements like the tinkling of anklets and the thunder of the forest deity coming from the depths of the dense rainforest, folk songs of the Tulunadu region of Karnataka, art forms like Kambala racing and Yakshagana with rigor, respect and sensitivity.
The first film focuses on the rise of the protagonist, Shiva (Shetty), who is content with locally sourced wine, pigs and fish and smoking (above). He is compared to the Hindu god Shiva – the tree house he escapes to is called Kailasa. In the new film, the entire forest and its inhabitants – Shiva’s family and community – symbolize nature. The forest and its spirit are heroes of legend and folklore. Kantara: Chapter 1 also begins centuries earlier during the reign of the Kadamba dynasty.
The script in the prequel has a broad scope and detailed architecture. As a director, Shetty brings out the imaginative artistry of the story in a thrilling, exhilarating and expensive manner. Filled with every hallmark of fantasy fiction, including rock-crowned structures with pointed turrets, ferocious wild animals vying for human triggers, crowded marketplaces, palaces and, most fascinating of all, the sounds and sights of the jungle, both films transport the audience into a state where there is no state except the chaotic interplay of violent power.
A myth is a traditional story, especially one relating to the early history of a people or explaining some natural or social phenomenon and usually involving supernatural beings or events. Implicit in the structure of mythological stories is the message, ‘You reap what you sow.’ Shetty smartens up the mythological genre by going beyond gods and goddesses and moral truths to the central preoccupation of our times: the clash between nature and human greed. Whenever you go through mythology their characters have a way of making them more appealing. We grew up with oral traditions of epic storytelling – it’s almost like going to grandma’s house.
According to psychoanalyst and author Sudhir Kakkar, Indians love mythology because it is deeply integrated into the Indian psyche, especially during childhood, which fosters a lasting connection with mythological figures and spiritual narratives. He argued in his book The Inner World that this upbringing, which encouraged long periods of immersion in a “mythical, magical world”, leads to a spiritual orientation and belief in things like astrology or the power of gurus. He argued that for most Indians, myth is psychologically more powerful than historical facts. Inner Worlds is like an exploration of the collective Indian cultural psyche: how these ancient stories shape identity, making them more real to many individuals than contemporary events.
For young audiences, mythology serves as an antidote to the new world order, which is obsessed with creating something-new, aiming to replace something-something all the time. Mythology is a gateway to a world that is at once primal and desirable, rooted in local tradition, yet deeply universal in spirit. In the content eco-system of ever-expanding streaming platforms, where watching a drama or even creating an audio-visual story requires just a swipe, a click or a prompt, mythology makes our past stories meaningful and broader in scope. It’s everywhere, from Hollywood studios and anime series to pocket fiction, and in a country where mythology has always been rampant and open to myriad interpretations, there couldn’t be a better time for an ecosystem of mythological stories to emerge and flourish. Rishabh Shetty has a magical formula. No other Indian film in recent memory has captured the sacredness and power of nature more irresistible than Kantara films.
(Sanjukta Sharma is a Mumbai-based writer and editor.)
