The announcement of the 71st National Film Awards has stirred a wave of debates within the Indian film industry, especially on the decision to confer the controversial film The Kerala Story with Best Direction and Best Cinematography awards and actor Shah Rukh Khan with the Best Actor award for Jawan while sidelining critically acclaimed films like Aadujeevitham: The Goat Life. The year’s choices have reignited long-standing concerns about the influence of politics, ideology, and populism on what should ideally be an impartial recognition of cinematic excellence. In the wake of the announcement, filmmakers, actors, and industry insiders voice their thoughts: some with quiet disappointment, others with pointed criticism.
Too often, audiences discover great cinema through awards, yet juries are increasingly falling into the trap of popularity by giving recognition to the most talked-about projects or artists. Juries and institutions are not doing their due diligence and are making their existence questionable and redundant. Let’s not forget that some of the most evocative films were funded and supported by government funding agencies when the focus was on nuance, truth-telling, and forwarding the culture of storytelling. But despite my cynicism, I believe this is cyclical, and someday we’ll recognise good cinema and make space for great storytelling once again.
Governments of any political colour are neither competent nor impartial enough to decide winners. Juries will have to be acceptable to the ruling political establishment. If the other side were in power, they would have probably banned The Kerala Story. It is impossible to do a fair deal as there is always party ideology at work and some pandering to popular opinion.
All films – whether political, apolitical, mainstream, or indie – should be eligible based on artistic merit, narrative strength, technical execution, and impact. But if its core content is found to be factually distorted or inciting, that becomes a serious ethical dilemma, especially for state-sponsored recognition like the National Awards. Award bodies must differentiate craft from content, but not at the cost of truth or social harmony. They should protect spaces for dissent but be cautious of manipulative storytelling masquerading as representation. I can’t believe Prithviraj’s The Goat Life was overlooked. I feel the credibility of the awards is becoming diluted.
National Awards are heavily influenced by the ruling party. This is not something new to us. Giving an award to The Kerala Story is still understandable as it is the untold story of brave women who came out of ISIS’ trap. It was a low budget movie and had its own struggles, still it got the recognition. But Jawan was not even of that standard, I do not understand giving an award to Shah Rukh Khan. I feel he deserved awarded for his previous releases like Swades, Chak De India and Dil Se. An award for Jawan feels like appeasement politics.
What struck me the most was Sudipto Sen winning the Best Direction award for The Kerala Story. Many might argue from a political point of view, and that cannot be dismissed. They are perhaps right. But beyond politics, what’s more concerning is the sheer lack of basic research that has gone into the film – something that should be the foundation of any director’s work. Are you telling me that, even in 2025, people up north are so oblivious to the southern part of their motherland? This is not ignorance; it’s a cultural blindness. The National Awards has now been reduced to a joke or a meme.
The absence of Aadujeevitham: The Goat Life from the 71st National Film Awards shortlist has sparked significant discussion within the film community. Directed by Blessy and starring Prithviraj Sukumaran, the film is a survival drama based on the acclaimed novel of the same name by Benyamin. Inspired by true events, it tells the harrowing story of a Malayali migrant worker trapped in slavery in the Middle East. Widely praised for its technical excellence, emotional depth, and Prithviraj’s physically demanding performance, many feel its omission is a missed opportunity to honour a monumental cinematic achievement.
When I spoke to Ashutosh Gowariker [director, and jury chairperson] over the phone and later met him in Goa, he praised Aadujeevitham. He even talked about its cinematography and compared the film to Lawrence of Arabia. However, the comments he made after the National Award announcement about the film’s quality and its adaptation were surprising. The story is adapted from literature and based on real events. When it becomes a film, changes are necessary – it must speak in the language of cinema. The justifications offered after the announcement came across as mere excuses to avoid addressing questions about the film’s exclusion.
It feels as if there was an attempt to completely erase Aadujeevitham from the conversation. This neglect goes beyond personal disregard; those with a clear understanding will recognise the politics behind this decision. It’s not just about the film not receiving an award. Even if the decision was influenced by the aftermath of Prithviraj’s L2: Empuraan (which sparked political controversy over its depiction of the Gujarat riots), we have to remember that a film is the result of the collective effort of many people. Countless individuals poured years of creative energy, hard work, and dedication into the film. To consciously overlook that effort and paint the team in a negative light is deeply unfair, especially coming from someone who is not only a director but also a chairman and an artiste associated with cinema.