Why Mohanlal’s interview with Pinarayi Vijayan carries weight beyond campaign optics

Mohanlal is simply one of India’s finest actors, an artist who, while being Kerala’s pride, is admired by some of the country’s most accomplished performers for the ease with which he inhabits a role and the skill with which he makes acting look effortless. Kerala Chief Minister and CPM leader Pinarayi Vijayan, notwithstanding his party’s shrinking national base, stands out not only as the state’s most powerful chief minister in its 70-year history but also as the last hope for his movement to retain its edge.

Between them, the actor and the politician have touched the lives of most Malayalis more than any two living Keralites. So, when Mohanlal interviewed Vijayan recently, the outcome surprised sceptics and admirers alike. The conversation proved more engaging than many had expected. Even their harshest critics would struggle to deny that it was, at the very least, a massive public relations success. Those determined to dismiss it no doubt found reasons to do so. Yet a scan of responses from viewers across the political spectrum suggests that the mutual respect between Vijayan and Mohanlal allowed the otherwise reticent and tough-sounding chief minister to open up to someone he has long regarded as an iconic cultural figure.

Vijayan appeared at ease, speaking in a manner rarely seen in his public appearances and departing from his usual reserved and self-effacing demeanour. It is hard to imagine anyone other than Mohanlal persuading the no-nonsense politician to dwell at length on his late mother, his love for dogs, the trials of his childhood, his early fear of spirits, and other deeply personal aspects of his life. The 82-year-old Marxist leader also spoke about his reading habits, which, interestingly, began with the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. He reflected on how religious and devout his parents were, especially his mother.

Seated opposite him at Cliff House in Thiruvananthapuram, the official residence of the chief minister, Mohanlal seemed aware that the otherwise strict and restrained leader admired him. Yet he was careful not to exploit that admiration with playful or leading questions that others might have attempted. Instead, his questions carried respect and were shaped to reveal the man behind the hard exterior.

The approach worked. What emerged was a mild-mannered Pinarayi Vijayan speaking as a son, a husband, a father and a leader with genuine concern for his colleagues, a contrast to the public perception he says has been constructed by sections of the media and political rivals.

Vijayan’s difficult childhood and even tougher years as a militant party cadre, when the CPM was under sustained attack from detractors, have long fed the image of a hard-nosed politician who means it when he says no. That image may not disappear after this interview. But Mohanlal deserves credit for steering the conversation in a way that held attention. It unfolded like an interview one did not want to end, drawing from Vijayan reflections that were, at moments, tinged with emotion. Years ago, the late Malayali actor Sreenivasan had achieved something similar with a younger Vijayan and his wife.

The exchange this time around, however, felt different. Mohanlal’s intent was not to provoke but to gently draw out the softer dimensions of a leader known for discipline and control. For many beyond his family and close associates, Vijayan remains unpredictable and unyielding, a reputation shaped by the positions he has occupied during turbulent phases in the party’s history, first as CPM state secretary and later as a two-term chief minister. Three decades of relentless public and media scrutiny have further hardened that image. His refusal to cultivate the media or publicly push his version of events only reinforces the perception of rigidity. Despite efforts to modernise Kerala, he continues to carry a reputation for being dictatorial.

In the course of the conversation, Mohanlal persuaded the chief minister to address perceptions of him as a tough-as-nails administrator and party leader. Vijayan spoke of his mother, who died leaning against his chest as though waiting for her son to return home. He recalled being the 14th child in a family where only three, including him, survived into their late teens. The chief minister spoke of the grief of losing comrades, particularly those younger than him, such as the late Kerala home minister and long-time colleague Kodiyeri Balakrishnan.

The interview also revealed Vijayan the film buff. In his youth, after demanding party work, he would often attend the second show at cinemas in various towns. Vijayan also spoke of his favourite character, one played by Mohanlal in the film Amritam Gamaya and of his fondness for action films, including those starring Tamil icon Rajinikanth. He recounted a chilling episode in which a political rival, whom he did not name, allegedly plotted to kidnap his children, and how a mutual friend warned him. Vijayan said he chose to remain silent about the threat, believing that sharing it with his wife and children would only have deepened fear and chaos. He also referred to misinformation campaigns and the negative perceptions that have trailed him. At one point, he recited lines from a poem in Mohanlal’s honour and remarked that he fears nothing except his party, to which he said he remains forever answerable, even as he steers it.

In closing, Vijayan, sparing as ever with words, thanked Mohanlal for taking the time to interview him. Mohanlal replied that the gesture sprang from affection and respect.

Yes, the interaction was timed with elections in mind. Yet it ended up revealing something more enduring: Mohanlal’s grace as an interlocutor and Vijayan’s concise but candid reflections on aspects of his life that many Malayalis had never seen.