The din is inescapable―on social media, in canteens, metros, cafes. Empuraan has been a hot-button topic since its release on March 27, and the debate over it is expected to linger considering the kind of extreme reactions the Mohanlal-starrer has triggered. Was this much noise necessary?
There are two sides to the Empuraan coin. The ones on the left are glad such a film exists. For them, the very act of watching the film has become an expression of protest against fundamentalists, against those seeking to curtail freedom of expression, against those who do not want the film to be a medium to reopen chapters from the past. The right sees it as a propaganda film, against Hindus mostly, and Christians to a lesser extent. Mohanlal, director-actor Prithviraj Sukumaran, writer Murali Gopy and the entire crew have been accused of peddling “anti-Hindu propaganda” and of “white-washing jihadis”.
Is there any substance to the wild accusations? Having watched the film on opening day, I have to say no to that question. Can a film be accused of anti-Hindu propaganda when it shows a Hindu woman offering shelter to Muslims on the run from Hindu extremists? Can a film be accused of white-washing Islamist terrorists when it shows a Muslim boy being rescued from the clutches of a jihadi group that wants to brainwash him?
Empuraan has been accused of presenting a “one-sided narrative” and “distorting” facts. While early sequences are set in Gujarat in 2002, it does not explicitly name real incidents. It is simply a reflection―emphasis on reflection―of one of India’s most chilling chapters. Why the outrage then?
Is it because one of the principal antagonists is named after the actual right-wing figure behind the Naroda Patiya massacre? Remember, the film begins with a disclaimer. Besides, it cannot be accused of being “anti-national” when, in one scene, the protagonist corrects the antagonist with the line, “Hindustani, not Malabari”.
The high-voltage cyberattack on the film led to Mohanlal posting an apology on Facebook and informing followers about the Empuraan team’s joint decision to remove the “objectionable” parts.
Mohanlal’s post was shared by Prithviraj and producer Antony Perumbavoor. Murali Gopy, notably, abstained. A former journalist whose previous works have boldly addressed contemporary issues and criticised parties across the political spectrum, Gopy likely anticipated the uproar. After all, he was once attacked by supporters of Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan over a negative character in his 2013 film Left Right Left that resembled the CPI(M) leader.
Interestingly, Vijayan has voiced his strong support for Empuraan, even watching it in a public theatre. “The communal hate campaign against Empuraan and its creators is deeply disturbing,” he wrote on social media, urging everyone to defend the freedom of expression. He added that it was yet another example of a “growing pattern where coercion and intimidation are used to silence dissent―tactics that have always been hallmarks of authoritarianism. Undermining creative freedom through fear and threats strikes at the very core of democracy”.
On April 1, Congress MP Hibi Eden moved an adjournment motion in the Lok Sabha over the Empuraan controversy. “The film shows the truth about Gujarat riots and exposes the agenda of the sangh parivar to divide Kerala and capture control of our coastline,” Eden said in his notice to the secretary-general of the house. “The truth is hurting the BJP and the sangh parivar. We cannot let threats and violent protests by the RSS-BJP to undermine creative freedom.”
The same day, the Kerala High Court declined to stay the film’s screening when petitioned by BJP leader V.V. Vijeesh (who has since been suspended from the party). The court questioned the petitioner’s motives, dismissing the plea as “publicity interest litigation”, and asking, “Have you watched this movie Empuraan? What is your objection? It was certified by the censor board. Show me one complaint or incitement of violence due to this movie.”
Some argue that the controversy was manufactured to help the film attract more eyeballs. Mohanlal’s colleague and Union Minister Suresh Gopi termed it a business strategy. “It is all business,” he told journalists. “Screwing up the psyche of people and making money.” Interestingly, Gopi was thanked in the film’s credits, but his name was removed along with the “objectionable” scenes in the re-edited version released on April 1―perhaps fittingly, All Fools’ Day.
News of “re-censoring” prompted many viewers to rush to theatres before the altered version was released. It could be a case of, as entrepreneur Mani Karthik calls it, “shock marketing”. Prithviraj, he said in a social media post, turned a mediocre film into a masterpiece. “He social-engineered a response,” Karthik wrote. “He drew a straight line through every segment of Kerala’s society and made all of them react. That is not easy. It is risky and calculated. But in this case, it worked. In today’s world, you do not always need a better product; you just need a product that cannot be ignored.”