Two-Part Films Like Dhurandhar Are Reshaping Indian Cinema

Doug Liman once famously said, “Almost anything can be justified as a style of filmmaking if it works.” That sentiment seems increasingly relevant today, especially when a film can be shot as one continuous narrative and then released in two parts with a combined runtime of 3 hours and 42 minutes. Aditya Dhar’s latest film Dhurandhar is a striking example of where cinematic storytelling in India appears to be heading.

Ranveer Singh in Dhurandhar (2025)YouTube

Over a decade ago, Anurag Kashyap had already tested the waters with the now-cult Gangs of Wasseypur, and since then the trend has only grown. Whether it's KGF, Baahubali, or Pushpa and even the upcoming Nitesh Tiwari–directed Ramayana, two-part films or multi-part “event films” are becoming increasingly common.

So why this "sudden" rise?
Is it a strategy to pull audiences back into theatres? A way to mimic the binge-worthy structure of OTT series? A natural evolution from traditional sequels? Or simply a bold experimentation with cinematic form?

The answer probably lies somewhere in the intersection of all these possibilities.

The Magic of 2 Part Films

Producers and directors often argue that the two-part format is not just a commercial ploy but a creative necessity when trying to tell a large-scale, character-rich saga. According to experts splitting a narrative into two allows filmmakers to delve deeper into character arcs and expand storytelling possibilities. Take Ranveer Singh and Akshaye Khanna starrer 3 hours 34 minutes long Dhurandhar that has everyone raving about it.

From the writer's desk, the film's complexity, the espionage that is a deep-cover intelligence operative infiltrating criminal networks blends gangster-drama, political intrigue, crime-syndicate dynamics, and even touches of national security and geopolitics (terrorism, cross-border gangs, covert ops) by alluding to some real life audio footage referring to the deadly attacks in India.

Moreover the setting — infiltration of the gangs of Lyari in Karachi — demands showing not only undercover operations, but also the internal hierarchies among crime lords, gang-political links, shifting loyalties, the moral ambiguities of undercover work, and the chaos of underworld plus state interplay. That requires multiple “narrative strands,” that takes you beyond a single linear plot. Notably, the film refuses to play safe by weaving violence, politics, and crime in a way that’s heavy, confusing at times but deeply gripping. Nonetheless, can all of it not fit in a feature film like other feature length films. Not only does Aditya Dhar's film goes beyond the feature length but calls for a second film that continues the film.

Alike Dhurandhar, Baahubali too was a two-part enterprise precisely because of its scale. The production involved building an entire kingdom (the mythical Mahishmati), with elaborate sets, thousands of extras, massive battle sequences, essentially a full-fledged fantasy world. This kind of world-building simply demands more screen time and resources that go beyond what a “normal” 2-hour film can accommodate.

Importantly, Baahubali’s success proved that big-budget, mythic/fantasy cinema with a pan-Indian (or even global) appeal could work even if it’s not in Hindi, and even if it carries risks (massive budget, long production cycles). This broke many assumptions about what mainstream Indian cinema must look like.

Overextension Can Be A Roadmap To Box Office Failure

But a two part film isn't always a sure short to success either. Overextension of a plot can also be fire back. According to David Bordwell, a film theorist, the narrative coherence and economy are central to keeping audiences engaged. This means that a well-constructed story relies on a logical progression of events, where each action naturally follows from a character’s motivations, and every scene serves to advance the plot or deepen thematic resonance.

When this balance is disrupted—such as in films that are artificially split into multiple parts—pacing can falter, suspense can dissipate, and character arcs may feel uneven or diluted somewhat like Pushpa 2 and KGF Chapter 2.

Mohanlal in L2: EmpuraanIMDB

Indian cinema’s recent trend toward two-part epics or sequels illustrates this tension vividly. While films like Baahubali and Gangs of Wasseypur benefited from being planned as multipart narratives, with built-in climaxes and arcs carefully calibrated across two films, other ventures like Pushpa 2 or Lucifer to Empuraan demonstrate the pitfalls of retrofitting a story into multiple installments. Extended runtimes, repeated sequences, or forced cliffhangers can compromise the immersive tension that a tightly told thriller or action saga requires, leaving audiences entertained but narratively unsatisfied.

Bordwell’s insight thus offers a critical lens through which to evaluate this emerging trend: expansion for spectacle or commercial gain may draw viewers, but without disciplined storytelling, it risks undermining the very engagement it seeks to cultivate.

Ultimately, the surge of two-part and multipart films in Indian cinema is as much about business strategy as it is about artistic ambition. Movies like Baahubali, KGF, and Pushpa show that audiences are hungry for sprawling worlds and larger-than-life characters, but success depends on more than just spectacle. Stretch a story too thin, and even a blockbuster can feel overstuffed or uneven.

The real challenge for filmmakers is to deliver films that are not just big in scale, but smart in storytelling keeping the tension, pacing, and character arcs tight enough to keep viewers hooked from start to finish. If done right, the two-part model could redefine how India tells epic stories on screen.