The Chola Empire is in mourning at the loss of Ponniyin Selvan (Jayam Ravi) who is presumed to be dead after his ship sank to the bottom of the sea.  He was rescued, however, by Oomai Rani (Aishwarya Rai Bachchan) and is recovering at a Buddhist Temple under the care of its monks.  With the seat of the Chola Dynasty at risk of being seized by the Pandyas now more than ever, war rages on across India as alliances are tested, secrets are revealed, and personal vendettas fuel heinous crimes.   

Filmed concurrently with its predecessor, Ponniyin Selvan: II is Mani Ratnam’s conclusion to his adaptation of Kalki Krishnamurthy’s influential historic epic.  The 164-minute saga blasts onto cinema screens ahead of its Prime Video streaming release boasting electric cinematography from Ravi Varman and a pulse-pounding score by A.R. Rahman.  Visually, it feels at home with PS: 1 (2022), but narratively, it is much more entrenched in the action.  The film expects audiences to have some idea of the previous film and does not do much in the way of playing catchup, but as its own work, it is largely independent and can be followed by newcomers to the tale; albeit some backing information and smaller references will obviously be lost. 

As with the first film, Vallavaraiyan Vandiyadevan (Karthi) plays a large role and brings a jovial tone to the war-steeped epic, but his screentime is much more evenly split now across some of the other characters as we no longer need him as our avenue into this world.  One of the biggest divergences from the first film is how PS: 2 handles its musical numbers – largely shying away from the massive song and dance routines and opting for fewer interludes with more emotional and personal lyrics – which further takes away opportunities for Karthi to really ham it up for audiences.  With less time at the head of the narrative that has slowly begun to hand the reigns over to its title character, Karthi still has a large enough presence and established the tone of his arc so that when he is on screen, he will occupy some of the more fun sequences, though the film is never without a level of danger that was mostly absent through the initial installment, at least until the intermission break. 

There is less of a tonal shift in PS:2 after the intermission, it is more just a chance for audiences to catch their breath before a rapidly unfolding finale which, even beyond Ponniyin Selvan’s ascension to the throne revolves more around the fiery conclusion to tragic lovers: Aditha Karikalan (Vikram) and Nandini (Aishwarya Rai Bachchan in a dual role). This story of betrayal is introduced in the first film, and PS: 2 opens in an even earlier flashback of the two as youths and the revelation that Nandini was driven out of the kingdom because of her family’s lower class. Bachchan is an absolute force in these films and is given such an incredible and conniving arc in the sequel where she excels as the mastermind behind the attempted coup centered around a complicated and time-dependent series of assassinations to unseat Sundara Chola (Prakash Raj) and his two potential heirs. Vallavaraiyan’s overhearing of this plan allows for some Looney Toon antics and creates a tragic mirror when, late in the film, Vallavaraiyan again is lurking in the shadows and witnesses that fatal end of this doomed romance in what is the emotional climax of the entire series. 

While the production scale and scope certainly feel larger, the world of PS: 2 feels smaller. Most of this comes from the storytelling – there are no new major players to meet, and most of the locations have already been established – which is much more focused on the relationships breaking down and the fury that the fission ignites; or conversely the solidification of alliances and the unified force of brains and brawn that are forged. Coming in still at almost three absolutely packed hours, it is no small endeavor, but it is much more manageable than the first as character objectives are much less ambiguous here. The direction feels more streamlined and the storytelling, more focused. It stands well enough on its own, but it certainly works best as a companion piece with its predecessor. 

Even without the major song and dance numbers, the film is not all backroom dealing and secrets whispered in passing on the streets. Taking its place are massive set pieces of which there are no shortages of: an assassination attempt at Ponniyin Selvan’s life during a festival celebration, a stylized hand-to-hand combat sequence between Ponniyin Selvan and a band of assassins set to kill his father, and a sprawling battle that put this conflict between the Cholas and the Pandyas to rest at the end of the film. The cast is fully committed to these larger-than-life characters in this history that is told like a myth and with Rahman’s thematic score it is impossible not to get caught up in the action. The flourishes in the fighting styles and photography help give the film its own visual identity, but they are not so overdone that it becomes tiresome as is sometimes the case. Ponniyin Selvan, the hero of the narrative, is understandably invincible in the face of even the greatest threats, but the film never lets him off too easily and there is always the threat of danger, injury, and even death. 

Without being able to comment specifically on how true to the novel Ratnam’s pairing of films is, the films he delivers to the screen are spectacle filmmaking at its finest. He is not content to let the ornate costumes or luscious set design do all of the work; his script finds the seeds of humanity in these great figures and spins a tale that is as timeless as it is epic. Military conquest, espionage, and poisoned love are but some of the major elements of this narrative so there is no shortage of plot lines to help pull in audiences and keep them engaged. A story of this size is almost certainly going to be unwieldy at times and it is true that sometimes the story moves a little too fast as it rushes to reveal secrets without slowing the energy of the scene, but he never totally abandons his audience and the performances are very clearly defined so that even if the dialogue may have been missed in the moment, the reverberations of the reveal are clearly felt and portrayed by the luminous cast. Ponniyin Selvan: II is not just a high stakes, period-set soap opera as its summary portends, but it is a shining achievement in maximalist and populous cinema from a director with a vision that highlights the magic of the movies by taking some of our strongest emotions – love and the hurt of betrayal – and extrapolates them to their most extreme form so that the drama can fill the widest screen possible.