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The recent controversy surrounding the Malayalam film L2: Empuraan, directed by Prithviraj Sukumaran and starring Mohanlal, highlights the increasingly fraught relationship between artistic expression and political sensitivities in India. The film, a “pan-India” project with significant expectations, has been subjected to a series of “voluntary” cuts following objections from right-wing groups, particularly those affiliated with the BJP and RSS. These cuts, totaling two minutes and eight seconds, have sparked a debate about censorship, creative freedom, and the role of fringe groups in dictating the content of films. The article criticizes the decision of the filmmakers to comply with these demands, arguing that it sets a dangerous precedent and emboldens those who seek to impose their ideological agenda on artistic works. The specific cuts themselves, detailed in the article, range from the seemingly innocuous to the overtly political. The removal of thank you cards to Union Minister Suresh Gopi and IRS officer Jyothis Mohan, both perceived as having ties to the BJP, is presented as an example of political sensitivities overriding common courtesy. Similarly, the deletion of scenes showing vehicles passing in front of a temple spire is deemed an overreaction to potentially offensive imagery. More significantly, the change of the antagonist's name from Balraj 'Baba Bajrangi' Patel, a clear reference to Babubhai Patel, convicted for his role in the 2002 Gujarat riots, to Balraj Baldev, signifies a deliberate attempt to sanitize the film's narrative and avoid direct confrontation with sensitive historical events. The removal of a timeline card stating ‘2002-India’ and its replacement with the vague ‘A few years ago’ further underscores this trend towards historical revisionism. The deletion of scenes depicting violence against women during riots, totaling 29 seconds, raises questions about the extent to which filmmakers should be allowed to portray historical events, even in a fictionalized context. The article argues that censoring such scenes is akin to rewriting history and denying the reality of past injustices. The removal of conversations between Zayed Masood and his father, along with any mention of Sangh Parivar politics and references to the National Investigation Agency, suggests a broader attempt to depoliticize the film and avoid any perceived criticism of right-wing ideologies. The reaction of right-wing groups to the film's initial release is also detailed, with the RSS's mouthpiece Organiser publishing multiple articles accusing the filmmakers of pushing an anti-Hindu narrative and accusing director Prithviraj Sukumaran of appeasing anti-national elements. This intense scrutiny and pressure from these groups ultimately led to the voluntary cuts, a decision that the article strongly condemns. The author argues that the filmmakers' capitulation sends a message that it is acceptable for fringe groups with ideological agendas to dictate how films are made. This sets a dangerous precedent for creative freedom and could lead to further instances of censorship and self-censorship in the future. The article asserts that the film requires editing, but on technical grounds, not political ones. The two minutes and eight seconds of cuts only serve to appease the concerns of right-wingers and do nothing to improve the quality of the film. Instead, they sanitize creative expression and license people to bully creators into submission. The author expresses disappointment that Prithviraj Sukumaran agreed to these cuts and that writer Murali Gopy, known for his explosive political takes, has not spoken out against the butchering of his work. The article anticipates the audience wondering how the film was earlier and this curiosity is sparked by the censorship. The edits fail to address legitimate concerns about representation or historical accuracy. Instead, they merely cater to those who wield outrage as a political tool.
The article delves into the nuances of the controversy, acknowledging that some objections to the film may stem from concerns about violence or biased representation. However, it argues that these concerns should be addressed through constructive criticism and dialogue, not through censorship. The author points out that the film's sequence of events establishes the protagonist's backstory and motivations, making it inherently one-sided. By this logic, the author suggests, every revenge arc would be subject to similar criticism. The example of John Wick is used to illustrate the absurdity of expecting complete neutrality in a fictional narrative. The question is posed whether these edits and alterations make the film any better, and the answer is a resounding no. The article argues that the cuts do not address any legitimate concerns about representation or historical accuracy, nor do they soothe the hurt sentiments of those who objected to the film. Instead, they merely sanitize creative expression to appease those who wield outrage as a political tool. The author urges the filmmakers to prioritize quality over political expediency, suggesting that they should edit the film for technical and artistic reasons, not to surrender to manufactured controversy. This controversy, the article argues, is engineered by those who view art solely through the lens of ideological conformity rather than artistic merit. The author concludes with a sardonic observation about the prevailing culture of victimhood and outrage, suggesting that in this "paradise of wounded people," our talent for victimhood is only outmatched by mountains of outrage built upon molehills of triviality. The piece serves as a potent critique of the forces that seek to stifle creative expression and impose ideological conformity on the arts. It highlights the importance of defending artistic freedom and resisting attempts to censor or sanitize works of art to appease political agendas.
The voluntary cuts made to Empuraan serve as a case study of the pressures faced by filmmakers in contemporary India. The film industry, like many other sectors, is increasingly susceptible to the whims of social media outrage and the demands of organized groups with specific political or religious agendas. The fear of boycotts, protests, and even violence can lead filmmakers to preemptively censor their own work, resulting in a chilling effect on creative expression. The Empuraan controversy also underscores the complexities of representing historical events and sensitive social issues on screen. Filmmakers must navigate a minefield of potential controversies, balancing the need for artistic integrity with the responsibility to avoid causing offense or inciting hatred. The line between artistic license and historical accuracy is often blurred, and the interpretation of events can vary widely depending on individual perspectives and ideological leanings. The role of the Central Board of Film Certification (CBFC) in this process is also subject to scrutiny. While the CBFC is tasked with ensuring that films comply with certain standards of decency and morality, its decisions are often seen as arbitrary and politically motivated. The CBFC's approval of the cuts to Empuraan, particularly the removal of thank you cards to BJP-affiliated individuals, raises questions about its impartiality and its susceptibility to political pressure. The article implicitly calls for a more nuanced and tolerant approach to film criticism and censorship. It suggests that instead of resorting to outrage and demands for censorship, viewers should engage in constructive dialogue about the issues raised in films. Filmmakers, in turn, should be willing to defend their artistic choices and resist attempts to impose ideological conformity on their work. The pursuit of artistic merit should be prioritized over the appeasement of fringe groups. Ultimately, the Empuraan controversy serves as a reminder of the ongoing struggle to balance creative freedom with social responsibility in a diverse and politically charged society. It highlights the need for a more open and tolerant discourse on art and culture, one that respects the rights of both creators and audiences.
Source: Empuraan: Voluntary or not, the cuts that shouldn't have been