Do you think it is a coincidence that the name of the character portrayed in the controversial Malayalam film Empuraan is Masood Saeed, a portmanteau of the names of Jaish-e-Mohammed terrorist Masood Azhar and Lashkar-e-Taiba terrorist Hafiz Saeed?. Anyone who watches the film critically will find it hard to believe so. The plotline, steeped in layers of subtext, appears to follow a calculated pattern aimed at pushing an anti-national and anti-Hindu agenda. This is not an isolated case but rather part of a longstanding ideological movement in the film industry in Kerala, led by actor-turned-director Prithviraj.
Distorted History and Whitewashing of Terrorism
The film has sparked outrage for whitewashing Islamic terrorism while casting the Hindu community in a villainous role. The Gujarat riots—a tragic and complex chapter in Bharat’s history—are depicted with a slanted narrative, conveniently distorting facts to fit a divisive political discourse. More disturbingly, Empuraan disregards the horrific massacre of 59 innocent Ram devotees in Godhra, trivializing their suffering while shifting blame elsewhere. The film not only revives painful memories but does so in a way that sows seeds of discord, undermining the nation’s unity and its democratic institutions.
Prithviraj, through his directorial choices, appears to use cinema as a medium of subversion. The first part, Lucifer, subtly introduced the idea that political parties in Bharat are mere puppets controlled by unseen foreign entities. The second part, Empuraan, takes this further by targeting India’s investigative agencies, law enforcement, and judiciary—institutions crucial to the nation’s democratic framework. The message is clear: the audience is meant to distrust those entrusted with upholding justice.
The Message of Anarchy and Political Disillusionment
From the very outset, the film projects a sense of anarchy. The opening sequence is underscored by Lord Acton’s famous dictum: “Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.” While this might seem like a commentary on political realities, its repeated assertion throughout the film pushes the dangerous notion that all power is inherently malevolent. By painting every political leader as deceitful and suggesting that the real power lies in the shadows, Empuraan risks alienating the public from the electoral system. The first installment, Lucifer, depicted saffron organizations as being funded by multinational corporations—an unsubtle attempt to malign nationalist movements. Empuraan continues this trend, reinforcing the belief that the system is beyond redemption. The main charactor, Stephen Nedumpally, operates outside the legal framework, subtly endorsing that justice can only be served through extra-constitutional means. This portrayal weakens public confidence in lawful governance and democratic accountability.
The Recurring Anti-National Themes in Prithviraj’s Films
A more insidious effect of the film is the normalisation of a parallel power structure. By repeatedly portraying an omnipresent, invisible force that controls political events, the film fosters political apathy. If people believe their votes are meaningless and that democracy is an illusion, they will disengage from civic responsibilities. When the youth lose faith in their nation’s institutions, the ultimate beneficiaries are external forces waiting to exploit a weakened Bharat. This is the division Empuraan subtly cultivates—a wedge that threatens national cohesion. The recurrence of anti-national motifs in Prithviraj’s films raises serious concerns. While some may have overlooked this agenda due to the film’s high-profile cast like Mohanlal, the revelations in Empuraan have left no room for doubt. Such creative choices raise pressing questions: Where did the film’s funding come from? Who were the silent backers? Why did one of the producers withdraw from the project? These are not baseless speculations but legitimate concerns that demand transparency.
India’s constitution upholds freedom of expression, but this liberty is not absolute. When artistic expression is weaponised to distort history, incite division, or undermine faith in democratic institutions, responsible citizens have the right—and the duty—to raise their voices. There is no issue with making films that critique the RSS and the Sangh Parivar extensively. It is not a problem if such films repeatedly portray Sangh Parivar leaders negatively. Likewise, criticism of the government and national leadership is a fundamental aspect of democracy. In this country, organizations, governments, and leaders are open to scrutiny and are not beyond criticism. However, if the intent goes beyond critique and seeks to undermine the integrity and unity of the Indian nation, every patriotic citizen has the right to speak out against it. They will undoubtedly rise in strong opposition.
The Need for Vigilance Against Divisive Narratives
The debate surrounding Empuraan is not just about cinema—it is about the more significant ideological battle that seeks to shape public perception. It is a moment of reckoning for every patriotic Indian. The question is not whether one agrees or disagrees with the film’s themes; the question is whether we, as a nation, are willing to tolerate the erosion of our unity in the name of entertainment. This is why Empuraan must be scrutinized. This is why every conscientious citizen must question its intent. Moreover, this is why, when a film subtly plants the seeds of division, it is our collective responsibility to ensure that these seeds do not take root.
