Blog: The Spine Vijay’s Mersal Team Had But Mohanlal’s L2 Empuraan Team Did Not
In 2017, Vijay and his Mersal team stood their ground against political pressure, refusing to bow to the BJP’s demands for cuts. Fast forward to 2025, and Mohanlal’s L2: Empuraan team folded like a house of cards, apologising and agreeing to censorship the moment right-wing groups turned up heat. The contrast is staggering—one film fought for creative freedom and emerged victorious, while the other surrendered without a fight. Understands this: when they fell for the right wing pressure, a large group of fans and the political class from the politically vibrant Kerala, including the chief minister of the state, were supporting the makers of Empuraan for the bold scenes and characters they created in the movie.
When Mersal took on GST, Digital India, and the broken healthcare system, the BJP came down hard. They wanted the scenes gone. But the film’s makers didn’t cave. Vijay didn’t issue a groveling apology. Instead, Mersal rode the controversy to massive success, proving that bold storytelling wins when filmmakers have a spine. Tamil Nadu’s political climate may have offered some cover, but let’s be clear—this was a choice. The choice to defend a film’s message instead of bending over backwards to appease political bullies.
Now look at L2: Empuraan. Prithviraj Sukumaran crafted a film that dared to touch upon the 2002 Gujarat riots and named a villain Baba Bajrangi, a thinly veiled reference to a real-life convict. The backlash from right-wing groups was predictable, but what followed was nothing short of pathetic. The film’s producers reportedly made 17 cuts, muted dialogues, and sanitized their own work to avoid offending Hindutva hardliners. And then came Mohanlal’s statement—a cringeworthy apology disguised as concern for his fans. “I sincerely regret the mental pain caused to my loved ones,” he wrote, as if the backlash from the right wing social media was the real tragedy, not the events the film depicted. Mohanlal’s choice of words also questionable. The people who supports a riot and its political beneficiaries and also those who can’t stand a movie about it after 23 years became Mohanlal’s “loved ones”, that is the criticism the actor is facing now. And he is the same actor who was able to criticise the Left and the Congress alliances in the state in the past though had never was forced to delete a scene or dialogue.
This wasn’t just a tactical retreat—it was a complete surrender. The right wing ecosystem forced a re-censoring of the film, proving once again that intimidation works when filmmakers lack the courage to resist. Imagine if Mersal had done the same. Imagine if Vijay had edited out his takedown of the GST just because some BJP spokesperson got offended. That film would have been gutted. Instead, the Mersal team held their ground, and the audience rewarded them for it.
Mohanlal’s backtracking is even more embarrassing when you consider the ideological battle at play. L2: Empuraan was attacked for “hurting Hindu sentiments,” the same overused excuse used to silence critical voices in India. But this isn’t about religion—it’s about power. The right-wing ecosystem has mastered the art of using outrage to control narratives, and Mohanlal, despite his legendary status, played right into their hands. His apology legitimised the manufactured outrage, giving Hindutva groups exactly what they wanted—obedience.
Meanwhile, Kerala’s Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan called out the hate campaign against the film, condemning the climate of fear created by the Sangh Parivar. But what good is political support when the filmmakers themselves refuse to fight for their work? Instead of standing tall like Mersal, L2: Empuraan shrank under pressure, handing right-wing groups another victory in their war on artistic freedom.
The lesson here is clear: Mersal had a backbone. L2: Empuraan did not. And that’s why one film still stands as a symbol of defiance, while the other will be remembered as a cautionary tale of cowardice.
