Filmmakers usually avoid controversial issues relating to caste politics and riots when making their films, so I was truly surprised when the trailer of Shorgul seemed to touch upon subjects like love jihad, violence towards minorities and the 'beef ban' theory. However, it is when the film is seen that one realizes that the makers made the mistake of taking a plot meant for a hard-hitting political drama and turning it into a commercial fare, which leaves a bitter aftertaste.

First, let us get this out of the way: Muzaffarnagar is not mentioned anywhere in Shorgul. The allusions are unmistakable though, which explains media reports that BJP MLA Sangeet Som has been raising a ruckus about this little-known film. Som is a prime accused in the Muzaffarnagar riots of 2013. Actor Jimmy Sheirgill in Shorgul plays a fictional Ranjeet Om, an MLA from a right-wing Hindu party who engineers communal riots in the town of Malihabad - in a state ruled by a Chief Minister Mithilesh Yadav (Sanjay Suri) - to further his goal of becoming a Member of Parliament in the next election.

Before Shorgul was released, it kicked up an interest. After all, it is centered on the communal riots that broke out in Uttar Pradesh's Muzaffarnagar in 2013, one of the worst episodes of violence in the state. Some political parties and individuals were unhappy as the movie makes indirect yet obvious references to names that made headlines during the time. However, despite an army of terrific actors, Shorgul comes off as a shallow attempt to dig deep into issues behind such uprisings.

Shorgul, which its makers insist is not based on the 2013 Muzaffarnagar riots, is a well-made "commercial" film woven around the politics of religion-based hate and bigotry that incite riots to help win elections. Here, the word "commercial" is important, because usually, with stories of these nature, which essentially serve as cautionary tales, most films go the semi-arthouse, multiplex way; as we have seen in films like Firaaq, Parzania, Bombay or Mr and Mrs Iyer. While these films were effective, they did not whole-heartedly embrace the trappings of commercial cinema's melodrama to drive home the point and sometimes, with issues as touchy as those of religion, melodrama can be an effective tool, if employed wisely.

The film starts with a scene where a man whose face is hidden in shawl delivers a gun to a girl. Then suddenly an item song appears out of nowhere, where Hrishita Bhatt praises the quality of air, before the film switches back to the first girl. Got the idea? This is how haphazard this political drama is! Anyways the plot is about how the friendship between a Hindu boy (Aniruddh Dave) and a Muslim girl, is used by political leaders (Jimmy Sheirgill and Narendra Jha) to fan a religious war. We get to hear dialogues that we last heard in Nana Patekar's Krantiveer, characters get killed more than an entire Game of Thrones season and Sanjay Suri randomly pops up to intentionally whitewash a certain UP CM.

Shorgul revolves around, how every now and then, Indian politicians take refuge of the Hindu-Muslim rivalry for their vote-banks. In this story, an innocent friendship between a Hindu boy, Raghu (Aniruddh Dave) and a Muslim girl Zainab (Suha Gezen) becomes fuel for the local politicians to raise an issue. It shows how politicians like Ranjit Om (Jimmy Shergill) and Alam Khan (Narendra Jha) infiltrate people's minds with jingoistic thoughts, just to get support in elections and how their speeches affect the common yet influential lives of Salim (Hiten Tejwani) and his brother played by Eijaz Khan.

Explosive theme, damp-squib filmmaking: that, in a nutshell, is the story of Shorgul. The film has arrived accompanied by a great deal of surround sound. But neither as cinema nor as political drama does it cut the mustard. The only sequence in the 132-minute film that comes close to passing muster is the opening one. In the dead of night, a mysterious man pulls down the shutter of a small-town shop, boards his scooter and rides to the door of an unidentified woman to hand her a loaded gun. Both have their faces covered.

It says a great deal for the state of our nation that a film like Shorgul runs into trouble simply because it is set in a town that witnesses communal killings, and which dares to create characters with a resemblance to real-life ones. It is also the kind of film that sadly requires political intervention for it to release. The film's small UP town stands in, clearly, for Muzzafarnagar, which was the site of some of India's worst rioting in 2013. It's interesting to connect the dots between the reel and real characters: What degrees of separation are visible between Sangeet Som and Ranjeet Om, and Azam Khan and Alim Khan? But the threat of bans and so on turns the filmmakers and the film toothless.

It takes special kind of talent to make a film as contrived as Shorgul. Based loosely on 2013's Muzzafarnagar riots, the makers attempt to bring forth the psyche behind misguided divisional politics. But the writing trivialises its noble purpose. An entire town is reduced to rubble just because of one love story gone wrong, is stretching your imagination too far. We could've bought it had the director delved deeper into the scheme of things.