By Nanditha Ravindar
Problematic
Characterizations
Recently, I have been feeling
a little homesick, missing Chennai – the city I love the most. In an attempt to
relive my growing up years in the city that is home to Marina and Santhome and
the Semmozhi Poonga, I have been watching Thalaivar
(Rajnikanth for the uninitiated) movies now and then.
I noticed something
interesting while watching these films again as an adult. And those
observations did not make me happy. I noticed a pattern in the ‘90s Rajnikanth
movies that many people love. I was not old enough to notice this pattern when
I watched these movies the first time around, so it was quite a revelation for
me, too.
In most of these Rajnikanth movies,
all of which went on to become massive hits, there are two types of women – the
do-gooder characters who can do no evil and are perfect, as far as a Rajnikanth
movie goes (read coy, good natured, sacrificial, nurturing and motherly with
hardly any agency), and the villainous characters who are evil to the core or
in other words assertive, confident/overconfident, aggressive, and
intimidating. There is no in between, no shades of grey. Only black and white.
In the case of the former, Rajnikanth, as the hero / protagonist, mostly ends
up marrying them. If he married the latter kind, he did so mostly to “tame”
them and teach them a lesson, for them to correct their “erroneous” ways. For
those of you who have watched and engaged with Rajnikanth’s body of work,
there’s a very high chance that you may remember Padayappa and Neelambari’s character
in that movie. But there are quite a few other movies, as well. Let me jog your
memory.
You have the assertive,
arrogant dark character Shantidevi (Vijayashanti) in Mannan, juxtaposed by the timid,
loving Meena (Kushboo) in the same movie. Then, there is the forever angry
(initially at least), sadistic Sumathi (Madhavi) on the one hand and the ever
smiling, simple, sacrificial Sulokshana on the other, in Rajnikanth’s hugely popular
1984 film, Thambikku Entha Ooru. Most of his other equally successful
movies have the good natured, coy woman paired opposite him such as Meena in Ejamaan and Veera, Soundarya in
Padayappa, and Kushboo in Annamalai.
This is not to say that
confident women have never been shown in a good light in the earlier Rajnikanth
films. But they were far and few in between, and what is most disturbing in the
movies mentioned earlier is the fact that the overconfident, assertive women are
shown in an extreme, such that they easily incur hatred, and are then tamed or are
shown the “moral high ground” by the hero.
I remember falling in love
with the song “Kadhalin deepam ondru” from Thambikku
Entha Ooru when I watched it for the first time as a child. Though I still
love the track, I recently realized that the song is set against a very
disturbing setting – the hero, in order to teach the arrogant heroine a lesson,
forcibly enters her bedroom and kisses her despite her protests. Although she
did taunt him and egg him on to enter her house and touch her, and the hero
does realize his mistake later on, I cannot digest the fact that the woman
“falls in love” with the hero after he forcibly kisses her without her consent.
Then comes the song, depicting both of them falling in love with each other. That
is extremely problematic, to say the least.
Directors of these specific
movies did not seem to understand the concept of a middle ground. The
characters are mostly written in extremities, as mentioned earlier. Why were
these directors unable to portray a confident woman who was assertive as well
as a level headed and kind person?
The
evolving nature of Rajnikanth’s films
With time, the portrayal of women
in Thalaivar’s movies do appear to be
improving, thanks to the directors and writers (and maybe an evolved
understanding of women as well). In the 1980s and 1990s, it was difficult to
find female characters fleshed out well, women who are strong and yet gentle.
Rajnikanth’s daughter in Kabali was a breath of fresh air. She
was confident, strong and could kick some ass, literally. The icing on the cake
was a fight sequence where she is in the thick of action and shields and saves
her father, Rajnikanth.
In one of the initial scenes
in Kaala, we see Rajnikanth’s to-be
daughter-in-law Charumathi, an activist, (Anjali Patil) outright state that she
would not sit down in front of her in-laws just to show them respect. The same
movie gives us another brilliant woman in the form of Easwari Rao who plays
Rajnikanth’s wife Selvi, a strong, assertive, loving woman who is embracing her
husband one minute and yelling at him for secretly meeting his ex-girlfriend in
the other. What’s more, the ex-girlfriend (Huma Qureshi) and the wife actually
get on cordially without any unnecessary drama thrown in. Who would have imagined
such scenes a decade ago?
Through
the Bechdel Lens
The Bechdel test, named after
the American cartoonist Alison Bechdel, requires a film (or any work of art) to
have at least two women represented in it, and talking about something other
than a man. If these criteria are met, it is said to pass the test. To put
things in perspective, let us look at some of Rajnikanth’s films to see if they
pass the Bechdel test.
In Padayappa, Neelambari’s (Ramya Krishnan) life revolves around
Rajnikanth’s character – passionate love turns to an unhealthy obsession with
wanting to destroy his life. The other female lead in the film, Vasundhara
(Soundarya), also lives in the shadow of her lover-turned-husband Rajnikanth.
In Mannan, Meena (Kushboo)
fantasizes about Rajnikanth and loves him, taking care of his ailing mother later
on even after Rajnikanth marries Shantidevi. Although Shantidevi (Vijayashanti)
does have ambitions of her own in the movie which have nothing to do with the
hero initially, Rajnikanth becomes all encompassing in her life as she is
consumed by jealousy and constantly wants to bring Rajnikanth down. This goes
to show that neither of the movies pass the Bechdel test.
Kaala, on the other hand, brought
us Huma Qureshi’s character who lives life on her own terms, continuing to do
whatever she feels is right regardless of the male protagonist’s opinion. In
the same movie, Rajnikanth’s wife Selvi is shown as bold and loving, holding
together the entire family on her own without being too dependent on her
husband – Rajnikanth. The icing on the cake is the character of Charumathi
(Anjalai Patil) who is a passionate activist; she is defined neither by her
lover, nor by her powerful to-be father-in-law Rajnikanth. Thus, the movie
passes the Bechdel test.
The credit for such powerful and respectful characterizations in both Kabali and Kaala go to director Pa Ranjith, whose penchant for a nuanced
understanding of women and writing characters rooted in reality, has culminated
in bringing strong and memorable narratives alive . Admittedly, the two films
that walk off the beaten path are more to Pa Ranjith’s credit than to
Rajnikanth - but the hope is that this remains a step that both Rajnikanth
himself and others who choose to work with him carry forward.
