In the ever growing universe of Indian superhero cinema where mythology meets modernity, Teja Sajja’s latest Mirai is a bold blend of ancient mythology and high octane action. Directed by Karthik Gattamneni who has been the cinematographer for films like Karthikeya 2, this Telugu fantasy adventure is almost 3 hours long and takes you from the streets of Hyderabad to the Himalayas. Releasing on September 12, 2025, Mirai follows the unlikely hero Vedha Prajapathi, a carefree orphan with a hidden destiny as he battles forces that are trying to tear apart humanity. After the success of Sajja in Hanu-Man, the film promises and largely delivers a visually stunning good vs evil story, but sometimes falters in balancing its grandeur with emotional intimacy.
At the heart of Mirai is 9 sacred granthas, ancient texts that can make mortals divine. When these granthas are targeted by the vengeful Mahabir Lama, a powerful and arrogant man, it’s up to Vedha to step into his shoes as the protector. Orphaned at birth and raised far from his lineage, Vedha lives a life of petty thug until he meets his long lost mother Ambica and his warrior spirit is awakened. Guided by sages and shadowed by allies like the enigmatic Vibha, Vedha goes on a quest for the mystical staff Mirai, racing against Mahabir’s dark plans. The story is rooted in Ramayana, with chants of “Jai Shri Ram” in the climax and blends spirituality with themes of compassion, greed and redemption. It’s an underdog story – Vedha’s internal struggle, armed with humor, is the same as the film’s journey from grounded reality to otherworldly grandeur.
Teja Sajja holds the film together with ease, transforming from a bumbling everyman in the first half to a confident Yodha in the second. His performance is a study in duality: charmingly vulnerable in emotional moments like the mother-son reunion and fiercely committed in the action scenes that demand physical and emotional investment. Hanu-Man comparisons are inevitable, but Sajja doesn’t play the superhero here; instead, Vedha is a warrior made by destiny, not caped invincibility. Opposite him, Manchu Manoj steals the show as Mahabir, bringing nonchalant menace and raw intensity to every scene he’s in. His backstory with tragedy and unquenched thirst for power adds depth to what could have been a one dimensional villain.
The cast shines at times, Shriya Saran brings emotional depth to Ambica’s selfless journey, a character that stays with you even after the movie ends. Jayaram is as serious as the sage Agasthya and Jagapathi Babu is as good as the senior protector. Ritika Nayak’s Vibha is a young sadhvi who connects different worlds and sometimes feels her potential is not being used fully. Her journey from Varanasi to Hyderabad seems to happen in a flash. But these scenes show the film’s focus on relationships between people—teacher-student relationships and family relationships—that ground its fantastical elements.
Gattamneni’s direction is all about visual poetry thanks to his background in cinematography. The film is a visual treat: Himalayan landscapes give way to kaleidoscopic battles where ancient mysticism meets anime. Production designer Nagender Tangala and the VFX team, working on a budget of Rs 60 crore with a team of 30-40 people, deliver sequences that rival bigger films—train top battles and a goosebump inducing interval bird transformation that’s a mix of practical and CGI. The climax is a spiritual energy and action packed showdown like a Game of Thrones finale with an Indian twist, enhanced by a pulsating background score that builds up without overpowering the story. At its best, Mirai uses visuals to tell the story, not overshadow it, creating a world that respects tradition and breaks the rules.
But Mirai isn’t without its problems. The first half is slow and exposition heavy, testing patience before the interval and then takes off. Flashbacks and lore dumps are rich in cultural texture but feel indulgent and dilute the emotional stakes and make the quest for the Mirai too linear. The script by Gattamneni and Manibabu Karanam is good on ethics and ego but falters on side plots and makes some protectors just props. 2 hours 49 minutes is a long time to commit to, but rewards the devotees with a decent start that blooms into a pure visual treat post interval. U/A certified, suitable for families, but intense action may not be suitable for younger viewers.
In the end, Mirai is proof of Teja Sajja’s growing star power and mid-budget Indian fantasy’s ability to punch above its weight. It’s not revolutionary—Karthikeya 2 and Aquaman did the mythic-modern mashup first—but its sincerity in celebrating the heritage and the thrills it offers is big-screen worthy. Fans chanting “Jai Shri Ram” in the theatres is a rare feat in a genre that’s often accused of being hollow. For Sajja, it’s another step towards superstardom; for us, it’s a reminder that true heroism lies in the heart. Worth watching for the devotion and dazzle, Mirai may not change the rules, but it’s a place in the pantheon of feel good epics.