Of women, men and relationships

Hey.

Unashamedly, this lockdown, for the literate employed, white-collared people has provided the much required time for oneself. There was time enough to pick up long-forgotten hobbies, games, reading and of course, the most favourite pastime of the urbanites –watching cinema. For those netizens connected to Amazon Prime, Netflix and Hotstar the home turned into ‘home theatre’. It allowed us to watch cinema—guzzle cinema, actually. One cinema that drew immense attention is Thappad. Given the fact that it is ‘feminist’, I was wondering about the euphoria that surrounds it.

                     Feminist films have brought out interesting skeletons from the cupboard of stereotypes, questioning them and breaking them all the way.  Piku-the struggles of a daughter in managing the ever-constipated, cantankerous father; English Vinglish the struggles of a home-maker whose contributions to the family are recognised only when she learns to speak in English; Kahaani, the  wife who claims justice on her own when the system fails her; Chalk and Duster -with an unconventional female lead- the ageing teacher’s fight against a commercialising endeavour of the management that is keen on removing her from the teaching job; Lipstick under my Burkha that explored the sexuality of women-especially an unmarried older woman ‘aunt’ in the family; all this apart from the many interesting biopics-of actresses (Dirty Picture, Mahanati), of professionals (Mary Kom, Neeraja, aami) to name some very popular ones. The fact that many of these cinemas have not been great box-office hits says a lot about the hesitation of people, in general, to look at the mirror, to look at the redundant patterns of attitude and a willingness to discard it. (Understood is the fact the replacement can't be new redundant patriarchal attitudes.) The concern of these and many feminist cinemas is the attempt to show women as people with needs, and requirements of their own and so, disrupt the stereotyped roles they are trapped in. In most of the cinemas, women are aspiring professionals or young women who are more comfortable exploring themselves and do not hesitate to own their failures; their struggles with patriarchal power structures and attitudes at the workplace and their gumption in overcoming these at home and at the workplace are welcoming changes in the representation of women in popular cinema. So, the cinemas depict the public sphere as a challenging habitat for those women who want to be achievers. Some of the cinemas are inspirational; admirable as people achieve their goals despite hurdles. At the same time, there are cinemas where men struggle to negotiate an individualised vision in their workplace or in their personal lives --   remember Ayushman Khurana in Bala or Rajkumar Rao in Stree. The fact is, to be what one wants, is never an easy forte—even for men. Say, a sportsman in Bhag, Milka Bhag, a teacher supporting challenged students in Taare Zameen Par, four adult men trying to live their lives on their terms in Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara etc. But the fact is, what is difficult for men to achieve is doubly difficult for women.

                         Given this lineage of struggling protagonists in popular cinemas, one recognises that Amrita in Thappad is different from her predecessors. For one thing, she does not talk feminism to practice it. She is a woman who believes that dignity is entitled to everyone. This attitude is the ace in the film. Her parents, her mother-in-law, her husband, his colleagues, and even her lawyer, are not very different from people from other feminist cinemas. When she decides to move to her parental home, everyone suggests that ‘she should adjust’, ‘don’t drag it on unnecessarily’, ‘a woman has to learn to keep quiet about certain things’, ‘when it comes to relationships, a lot has to be forgiven.’ But, Amrita does not turn around and argue with people about her ‘right’ to dignity. She is gentle enough to stand her ground and insist on being dignified—to the bitter end, against the advice of her lawyer. (A domestic Violence charge is pressed against Vikarm more to establish peace than to prove a point that women will NOT stand harassment.) It is this gentleness that is endearing and it does not make villains out of people around her who are unable to understand her. Be it her husband or her mother or her younger brother. This reverberates in her concern for her mother-in-law, who is a diabetic. With her standing the ground with a gentle but firm NO to disrespectful behaviour, many lives sort themselves out, very gently-the younger brother learns that it is important to stand by people; her mother-in-law learns to take care of herself, begins to go for a walk every day; Vikram wants to come back to her to be with her; Netra Jaising learns to claim her identity as an independent lawyer and her maid learns to beat her husband back to protect herself. The narrative style ensures that every behaviour and attitude is placed in front of the audience for their responses, to enable a rational response to what is acceptable and what is not. Therein lies the success of the director in delivering the right thappad in the right manner to ensure recognition. 

               However, one thought that kept creeping into my mind throughout the cinema is--when is Vikram going to say 'Amu, I am sorry, It just happened' and then, what could be the narrative? But I also understand if he were the kind to say 'sorry' Thappad would not have happened. After all, it is a patriarchal notion that rules Vikram--the same hierarchy that works in his Corporate Office. Interestingly, it is his colleague, who tells Vikram directly that what he did was wrong and that he was drunk. The act was wrong.                 

            At the centre of the narration is an entirely new doting father who supports his daughter in the darkest hour; and one who stands by his-to-be daughter-in-law when the son behaves badly. And, is willing to accept that he now has to encourage his wife in her passion for singing,  accepting that she did have to give up her music as it was not socially acceptable when they got married. Learning never stops!! 

            And the cinema claims the much-damaged relationship between two women-mother-in-law and daughter-in-law. The final monologue of Amrita with her MIL urging her to take care of herself goes a long way in establishing the requisite truce between the so-called traditional rivals at home-saas and bahu. The mothers -Amritat's mother and mother-in-law- try the new makeover of taking charge of their lives. At the end of it all, feminism, instead of breaking the home has created a new home. The making has just begun, it is incomplete, but with a hope that the new home is more democratic, more accommodative and more loving.      

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