Why Marathi films are all the rage again – and why this wave could last

Something is happening in Marathi cinema – something good.

The past few years have seen a bunch of thoughtfully made, resonant films. Alongside commercial releases, there have been movies affirming Marathi cinema’s reputation for realism, sensitive treatment and excellent performances. Jeejivisha Kale’s Tighee, which was released on March 5 in cinemas, and Mohit Takalkar’s Toh Ti Ani Fuji, which went directly onto Sony LIV on April 10, have been widely appreciated.

Some of the most noteworthy recent releases have all been in Marathi – Sabar Bonda, Vaalvi, Zombivli, Jhimma, Baipan Bhari Deva, Sthal, Aatmapamphlet, Ata Thambaychay Naay!, April May 99. A few of them have worked at the box office – Baipan Bhari Deva was a massive hit – and found fans beyond their traditional linguistic base on streaming platforms.

Marathi cinema will test its potential on May 1, when Riteish Deshmukh’s ambitious biopic Raja Shivaji will be released in theatres in both Marathi and Hindi.

There has also been a crossover of personnel between the languages. Following in the footsteps of directors such as Mahesh Manjrekar and Ravi Jadhav, Aditya Sarpotdar (Munjya, 2024) and Laxman Utekar (Chhaava, 2025) have staked their claim in Bollywood as bankable directors.

For an industry whose history runs parallel to that of Hindi cinema, a high strike rate of success should not be extraordinary. Yet, Marathi cinema has gone through ebbs and flows for decades. Consistency in quantity and quality, assured earnings, pre-release streaming deals that might offset production costs – these trade practices that keep Bollywood running smoothly have eluded its regional cousin.

And yet, some filmmakers see signs of nothing short of a renaissance. The sheer number of buzzy titles since the beginning of 2025 has created the hope for better times ahead; a long-awaited revival of a scene that has never been lacking in talent, only exposure. Although Marathi films are almost always released with English subtitles even in Maharashtra, the best of them often don’t reach non-Marathi audiences.

Scroll gathered together Irawati Karnik, Nikhil Mahajan and Suhrud Godbole for their insights on where Marathi cinema is at and where it could reach. Karnik is the screenwriter of Anandi Gopal (2019), Jhimma (2021) and Toh Ti Ani Fuji. Mahajan is the writer-director of Godavari (2022) and the upcoming Raavsaheb.

Mahajan co-wrote Tighee, also co-producing it with Godbole. Godbole co-directed June (2021) and produced Mahajan’s Baji (2015).

Here are edited excerpts from the conversation, which touched upon Bollywood’s influence on Marathi cinema, the lack of competent producers, and the possibilities represented by new talent.

Where is Marathi cinema at, in your experience?

Suhrud Godbole: There were a stressful few years. Everyone wanted to replicate the success of Nagraj Manjule’s Sairat [2016], but largely failed. We’ve always had to share our audiences with the big brother, which is Hindi. And that hasn’t changed much.

What has definitely changed in the past two years is a huge influx of younger, newer directors. They’re trying to be a bit more ballsy. They’ve brought in fresh ideas. They are showing more guts than people who been there for longer. And they’ve worked in terms of perception and the box office.

As producers, it’s up to us to create an ecosystem where we can harness this young energy and present the new ideas in the fairest way possible.

Nikhil Mahajan: The general trend is to paint a bit of a depressing picture about Marathi cinema – and rightfully so. But what I have been seeing since Godavari [2021] is a marked shift. In 2026 alone, two diametrically opposite films clocked 50 days in theatres – Hemant Dhome’s Krantijyoti Vidyalay and our film Tighee.

It’s an incredibly difficult thing to achieve. It’s a very healthy sign. Because we were distributing Tighee ourselves, we got a ringside view into what it takes keep a film in theatres. Nobody can do that unless the film is actually performing.

We’ve also had a steady flow of debut directors. It’s the first such batch after our batch, which was around 2013 and 2014 – Sujay Dahake, Nagraj Manjule, Avinash Arun, me. I don’t remember seeing a surge of this sort since we started.

The problems have to do with viewing patterns, the economics of Marathi films. We don’t have pre-sales for digital and satellite, which bigger Hindi films tend to have. Even the biggest film in Marathi doesn’t have the luxury of being pre-sold to a streamer. The biggest stress point is that producers don’t have a cushion. We are completely dependent on the box office.

But apart from that, purely creatively, we’re probably in one of our best phases, and it’s only going to get better. Marathi cinema is at the cusp of its renaissance moment. Whatever happened with Malayalam cinema immediately after Covid is going to happen with the Marathi industry.

Irawati Karnik: We went through a difficult phase of a lot of historical, nostalgic and easy-bait films. But that’s drastically changing.

Most young filmmakers want to make a mark. It appears to be a lot less about immediate commercial success for them, considering the kind of topics and treatments they are choosing. It’s more about having something to say, trying something different.

I also think that Marathi audiences are gradually going back to the community experience of watching films together. This relationship feeds off of each other, where the cinema trains the audience and the audience’s response encourages more cinema of that kind. That cycle seems to be getting more robust.

I interact with a lot of students. I see a lot of very young people who are non-Marathi, who have an increasing interest in Marathi cinema, who are watching Marathi films very seriously. That’s adding to the conversation.

What does it take for a Marathi film to have staying power? What’s been working – and what hasn’t been?

Irawati Karnik: The theatres matter hugely. The lack of opportunity for smaller films because there are no pre-sales on streaming is also a point of concern. We were okay with a direct-to-streaming release for Toh Ti Ani Fuji because for about three years after its completion, we were told that there were no takers for the big screen.

Suhrud Godbole: For long, Marathi filmmakers have been mostly from Pune or Mumbai, making films about urban characters. That has reached a saturation point.

Some of our previous films, such as my June or Nikhil’s Godavari, were set beyond Pune and Mumbai. Cinema needs to move out of Pune-Mumbai storytelling.

Marathi cinema doesn’t have the luxury of big budgets, big stars, over-the-top story telling. We rely on hard-core human stories that have a lot of relatability. We also have to rely on a very different kind of marketing from the average Hindi film.

Maharashtrians tend to go by what their neighbours and friends are saying. They don’t get fooled by the glitter of marketing. We have to rely on word of mouth. Our second week in theatres tends to be better than the first.

The marketing push has to be very different from Hindi. This is where many of the Marathi films, even though they are good, may not be able to sustain their run. Their marketing plan isn’t designed that way. They go for an all-out opening weekend blitz, which is what Hindi does.

Cinema is not the primary source of entertainment for a Marathi audience. The Marathi audience is more naturally inclined towards theatre, it’s in their DNA. You have to change your thinking to market a Marathi film. Don’t put all your eggs into the week one basket. For Tighee, our marketing plan post-release was a little higher than for pre-release.

Nikhil Mahajan: The need of the hour is proper, educated producers, who can objectively look at something without getting carried away creatively. In Marathi cinema, unfortunately, the position of a producer isn’t taken seriously.

Most often, Marathi producers are people fascinated by the world of movies, who have extra cash. Fair enough – it’s your money and you can do whatever you want. My issue is with the randos with money.

The typical life cycle of a Marathi film is this: somebody somewhere writes a script. He says, I am making the film. Then he finds a rich person who has Rs 50 lakh lying around. He gives this romantic person Rs 50 lakh. Suddenly, the producer realises, I have no clue how to do this.

We all know that in love, you only lose.

When there are 10 shit films back to back, audiences lose faith, and decent films suffer. A least 120 to 150 Marathi films get censored every year. There are 52 weeks in a year. So many people are just making films without any idea of what to do with them.

There are just a handful of people who are doing it somewhat right. Even we are a bit in the dark here, but at least we know how to package and market a film. We do have studios, but they are limited in terms of how many Marathi films they can do every year.

Which is why it’s important to have sensible producers who know how films are made, released and distributed. It’s a completely different, absolutely ignored craft.

As to what has staying power, the only honest answer is: make a good film.

Suhrud Godbole: Distribution is another big problem. In today’s times, it’s easier making a film than releasing one. Nikhil and I have travelled to film markets, where we have met extremely talented filmmakers. Everyone is facing the same issue: distribution. They don’t have the pipeline to get their films into theatres. Everyone is on their own.

If you are not a big film, and you don’t have a big studio behind you, where do you go? You might say streaming, but streaming platforms demand a theatrical release. It’s a loop that you can’t get out of.

What kind of a shadow does Bollywood cast on your work?

Nikhil Mahajan: We had a heavy setback because of Dhurandhar 2. So did other Hindi films.

Tighee would have made thrice as much. We were three weeks apart. There was a point when there were only two films playing in Maharashtra, Tighee and Dhurandhar 2. Yet, in our most crucial third week, when Tighee was doing really well, Dhurandhar landed.

There was very little we could do because all the screens were showing Dhurandhar. It was incredibly difficult to hold on to our screens. We could not milk the hype that we had created because of a significantly bigger Bollywood film.

Irawati Karnik: This has happened multiple times, where a Marathi film would have done way better had a commercially successful Hindi film not been released at the same time. It also has to do with the number of theatres and show timings. The best timings go to the bigger film.

Equally, I know examples where Marathi films have outperformed Hindi films. Jhimma did it, Baipan Bhari Deva did it.

Nikhil Mahajan: Ved did it too. Our honest learning is that the theatrical business is the fairest business there is. Your film has to perform. You can apply your pressure and might, but for a week at the most. Your shows have to have a certain occupancy. It’s a pure numbers’ game.

Marathi filmmakers often complain that the rules of the game are stacked against them. Does the industry need the state government’s help?

Suhrud Godbole: I think we have played the victim card too many times now. After a point, it isn’t cool. At the end of the day, theatre owners are running a business.

The reality is that we are a much smaller industry. Bollywood has more muscle, more demographics, more eyeballs. In every data set, they are bigger than us. The day we stop competing with Bollywood, we will be in a better position.

There are people who have tried to take on Hindi films. That doesn’t work. We don’t have a star system in Marathi, which is sometimes a boon for us. We can’t compete with Bollywood in terms of the sheer number of eyeballs, but where we can compete is the integrity of the content.

Government policy-wise, there could be some kind of shielding or support so that we don’t get trampled upon. We don’t want to play the victim but we won’t want to be pushovers either. It’s a tough line to tread.

Irawati Karnik: Beyond a point, playing the victim card becomes strategy, which is old and done with. But it’s important to recognise that in terms of resources, it is not a playing field. It’s not a fair game. When we talk about Malayalam cinema doing so well, we have to remember that it isn’t competing with a parallel, giant industry.

Nikhil Mahajan: My controversial counterview is, why should there be a level playing field? Nobody is asking us to make these films. Nobody has handed us this responsibility. It’s a choice.

I know of cities in Maharashtra like Nagpur or Chhatrapati Sambhajinagar where audiences prefer Hindi films. So there’s no playing field to start with.

Everybody needs to stop romanticising. I make a film, I want it to be released, but hey, there’s this big Hindi movie because of which my film is crushed. Too bad, my friend. It’s a business.

Look at Krantijyoti Vidyalaya. Hemant and Kshitee [Jog, the film’s producer] are consistently making films. Every year, they are putting out films. Hemant is working on Jhimma 3 right now. They are not leaning on anybody. They are marketing their films well. In terms of commercial success, their graph is upward.

Irawati Karnik: That’s a chicken and egg thing. I’m not talking a consolation prize. I’m not talking about patronage that will sustain Marathi cinema no matter what. If a film deserves to fail, it should fail. I am saying it’s not a level playing field to begin with – when shows are bought out, when you don’t get the right timings for Marathi films.

Suhrud Godbole: The government is coming in at the wrong place. It’s the subsidy for Marathi films [ranging from Rs five to 40 lakh, and divided into grades].

The subsidy is very problematic. It’s a poisoned chalice. The intention might be good, but it’s a major reason for the decreasing quality of films. People are making films only so that they can get the subsidy. The subsidy has become a part of the revenue stream, which it should not be.

There is no incentivisation to make better films. The subsidy has vague A-grade and B-grade assessments, which go into a grey area.

Many of us in the industry don’t say this openly because no one wants to take the fall. Internally, we all agree: scrap the subsidy. Then, only the serious players will stay.

The government can spend their money in other ways. We majorly lack screens. In the Konkan belt, there are hardly any theatres. Instead of spending on big multiplexes with expensive food, we could build smaller theatres.

Speaking of Malayalam cinema, there is the perception that everything about it is cool and brilliant. Why isn’t Marathi cinema seen in the same way?

Irawati Karnik: For a while, Malayalam cinema filled the gap that had been created for meaningful, small, human-driven stories. I doubt that there is an active rejection of Marathi compared to Malayalam.

The reason Marathi films are not being picked up for streaming is not quality, but lack of viewership. They say there are no eyeballs. Even if bad Malayalam films have enough viewership, they are going to get picked up.

Suhrud Godbole: Malayalam is cool right now. There was a time when Punjabi was cool. Hindi has always been cool. Marathi has never been cool. And that is not just about films, but as a culture.

The jury is out on whether this is because of people’s perception towards us or because of our projection. We haven’t made our content, films and music in that direction. Our pop music hasn’t gone national.

Marathi cinema had gone away from Marathi youth. We were not speaking their language. But today, with things like BhaDiPa [Bharatiya Digital Party] and the music producer Kratex, a new kind of pop culture has come in. Marathi youth have found things that they can identify with. Toh Ti Ani Fuji is speaking a youngish kind of a language. BhaDiPa is trying to do that.

Irawati Karnik: As Marathi people, we don’t know how to sell ourselves.

Suhrud Godbole: We like to pull each other down. There is a tendency that if something has been made in some other language, it’s great, but not in Marathi.

I have also seen that people are not happy if something works, or bask in someone else’s failure. There is no unity. That’s why we producers don’t sit together. Everyone feels the other person has an ulterior motive. We always look at others with suspicion.

Nikhil Mahajan: Let’s stick with the data. How many Marathi films in the last 10 years can stack up against the best of Malayalam cinema? What in Marathi cinema is stacking up against a Lokah, or a Kumbalangi Nights? I’m not saying we don’t, but the question is, how many?

There is another layer at which this is working. In mainstream Bollywood, a Marathi character has always been a servant or a police constable. Characters like Bajirao Singam are rare. Sandeep Reddy Vanga brought in the Marathi character Freddy played by Upendra Limaye in Animal and suddenly, the Dolby Wala song [originally from Jaundya Na Balasaheb, 2016] became mainstream.

That’s the beauty of Aditya Sarpotdar’s Munjya. He’s taken a Marathi myth and made it into a Hindi film. Props to Aditya for going there. I’m sure he met people who said, let’s set the story somewhere else. He stuck to the Maharashtra setting.

Suhrud Godbole: The Marathi filmmakers who are working in Hindi are trying to bring about that change.

Nikhil Mahajan: Laxman Utekar has done it with Chhaava in Hindi. That kind of empowers Riteish Deshmukh’s Raja Shivaji. Here, you have a Marathi film that actually has the budget and can project the scale to do a pan-India number.

Irawati Karnik: I don’t think Marathi culture has been explored enough in Hindi stories. You have so many films that are set in, say, interior Lucknow or Old Delhi. Every kind of background is given a chance in terms of the richness of the culture. But the Marathi portrayal is always either maids or shopkeepers or cops.

Nikhil Mahajan: Bollywood does tend to stereotype everyone. An intellectual is always a Bengali always. So we’re not the only victims here.

Suhrud Godbole: I was surprised by films like Lakshya, in which Amitabh Bachchan’s character was Colonel Damle. Main Khiladi Tu Anari had Inspector Joglekar.

Which recent Marathi films have stayed with you? Feel free to plug your own movies.

Irawat Karnik: Sabar Bonda. Tighee.

Nikhil Mahajan: I am going to be shamelessly self-indulgent and talk about my own film Raavsaheb, which I hope the world will see soon. It’s a highly topical thriller about a human-animal conflict in Chandrapur. We haven’t gone into the social drama space but addressed it like a serial killer film. it has an ensemble cast – Jitendra Joshi, Mukta Barve, Sonali Kulkarni, Mrunmayee Deshpande, Sagar Deshmukh, Mohit Takalkar.

Suhrud Godoble: I am really waiting for someone who will, and I hope that it is someone from our circle, make a Kantara-type film, which will change the trajectory for Marathi cinema.

Audiences need to know that there is a steady stream of good Marathi cinema. Which is what Malayalam cinema has achieved.

Sometimes, the supply is too much compared to demand. On one weekend, three Marathi films will be out. There is no communication among Marathi producers. Everyone is cannibalising each other. The audiences are right when they say that we don’t have good films to respond to. The makers are right when they say that there is no audience for good films.

Over the last two years, the dialogue has started again. Consistently, every few months, there has been a good film. So it’s up to us now to keep this momentum.