L2: Empuraan movie review: First day first show in UAE, Mohanlal's action thriller is ambitious but emotionally hollow

Dubai: When a movie kicks off with cerebral and profound adages such as Lord Acton’s “Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely,” you know you’re in for a pretentious ride. Director Prithviraj’s much-anticipated L2: Empuraan, which chronicles the origin story of his own character Zayed Masood from the first chapter Lucifer, doesn’t disappoint on that front.

Sporting a designer five o’clock shadow, a sleek dark vest, and enough strapped-on weaponry to make a small army blush, Zayed traipses around the world, demolishing structures and enemies with the kind of theatrical dexterity that would make James Bond nod in grudging approval.

But here’s the thing—it takes forever to set the scene. Everyone who dragged themselves to an ungodly 4:30 a.m. show in Dubai is here for one thing, and one thing only: to see Malayalam superstar Mohanlal turn up the swag, preferably flanked by his dashing ally, Zayed Masood (an on-point Prithviraj).

And yet, it takes nearly an hour for the big guns to even make an entrance. Instead, we’re taken on a dizzying world tour that spins our heads faster than a DJ Khaled remix. Stephen Nedumbally—aka Khureshi Ab’Raam from the secret syndicate—is apparently taking on the Kabuga drug cartel, and we’re dragged across Iraq, Senegal, and a smattering of other “blink-and-you-miss-it” global hotspots. It’s ambitious, sure—but also exhausting.

But it’s in the second half—when the film finally slows down and delves into the simmering world of family politics in Kerala—that L2: Empuraan finds its spine. Priyadarshini Ramdas, portrayed with quiet authority by Manju Warrier, and her sibling, played with equal conviction by Tovino Thomas, have fully embraced the trappings of dynasty politics. Their tangled power play lends the film the gravitas it so desperately chases in the first half. The stakes feel real, the drama crackles, and for once, you're not just admiring the aerial shots—you’re actually invested.

The crackling scenes of smouldering rivalry between Tovino Thomas—who’s gone completely rogue as the Chief Minister of Kerala—and his morally untarnished sister Priyadarshini inject much-needed life into the film. While it’s undeniably impressive that Prithviraj has crafted a movie slick enough to make the makers of Mission: Impossible or James Bond sit up and take notice, it’s the layered subplots that truly make L2: Empuraan worth our time.

Let’s not forget Priyadarshini’s father founded a party in Kerala rooted in secularism, but her ambitious younger brother—now the Chief Minister—throws ideology out the window by aligning with a minority-hating, right wing-loving villain, played with sly menace by Abhimanyu Singh. The generous sprinkling of Hindi and North Indian elements feels like a slightly desperate attempt by Prithviraj and team to woo a pan-India audience. But the film truly finds its rhythm when it returns to Kerala—when the politics gets personal, the lines get sharper, and the screen finally lights up with the combined charisma of Mohanlal, Tovino Thomas, and Prithviraj himself. That’s when L2: Empuraan stops trying to impress and simply owns the moment.

But those moments are few and far between. The momentum is patchy, and the clap-worthy scenes feel scattered rather than sustained. The real spark comes from the face-offs between Manju Warrier and Tovino Thomas—scenes that crackle with intensity and emotional weight. Tovino, in particular, shines as the suave yet thoroughly corrupted devil, oozing charm while plotting chaos. Honestly, he steals the show every time he walks into the frame.

Now coming to Mohanlal and Prithviraj—the stars of the show. The scene where the prodigal, bastard son appears in a crisp white mundu, emerging from the forest to rescue his sister from a group of goons, is beautifully staged. The action is slick, stylised, and high on drama. But here’s the thing: most Malayalis like their heroes homegrown. As much as we marvel—and occasionally zone out—while watching our stars globe-trot, conquer geopolitics, and flex against international villains, there’s nothing quite like seeing them rooted in the mundu-clad, Malayalam-speaking milieu. That’s where the emotional investment truly kicks in.

I just wish there were more of those grounded, emotionally resonant scenes. The moments set in Kerala—where the state’s secular spirit quietly shines through and its people refuse to be swayed by divisive, religion-based politics—lend the film unexpected depth. It’s a smooth, thoughtful touch in an otherwise high-decibel spectacle. Because when L2: Empuraan pauses the globe-trotting chaos and embraces its Malayali roots, that’s when it truly hits home.

At regular intervals, Khureshi Abraam/Stephen Nedumpally (Mohanlal) is asked the million-dollar question: “Who the hell are you?” And after nearly three hours of globe-trotting, cryptic stares, and philosophical posturing, I’m not entirely sure either. By the time he solemnly declares, “I’m not a Malabari, I’m a Hindustani,” it’s clearly meant to tug at our patriotic strings—but it lands more like a line from a teaser trailer than a moment of genuine depth.

While the ambition and scale are undeniably impressive, L2: Empuraan ultimately feels like a string of ambitious, action-heavy set pieces stitched together with very little emotional glue. There’s no real heart, just a lot of posturing, explosions, and globe-hopping.

And just as I feared, it all ends with yet another ominous tease: the third part of the trilogy is coming—and this time, the enemies are in China. Sure. Why not? And of course, it closes with more brooding, pretentious quotes about power, corruption, and greed. At this point, even the philosophy feels tired.

Just give us Mohanlal in a crisp white mundu with a one-liner and we’ll call it a day.