Category: Review

Kaathuvaakula Oru Villain

Posted in Gender, Kollywood, ReviewTagged , , , , , , Leave a comment
A poster of the movei Kaathuvakula rendu kaadhal with Vijay Sethupathi, Nayantara and Samantha

I watched Kaathuvaakula rendu kaadhal this summer, and my first thought was — how daring is this filmmaker, how courageous — he made a straightforward film about a villain and his life. 

KRK opens like most well-designed anti-hero stories, with a clean origin story for its male lead. We find out what makes this character feel so entitled, why he believes he can construct realities in which he receives anything he’d like. Vignesh Sivan constructs a neat argument for us to empathise with this anti-hero — at one point, I began to wonder if this is a film with no male protagonist. And this conventional thought is what failed me: the protagonist is the villain.

In Super Deluxe, Vijay Sethupathi made you hate yourself for liking the performance of a cisman who played a transwoman, for appropriating the life experience of a trans person and participating in denying opportunity to a trans person to play a marginalised character. In Naanum Rowdy Dhaan, he enraged you as he gaslit the female lead and denied her the truth about her father’s death and disallowed her grief so that he could enjoy a few extra  hours of watching her in her hollow shell. In KRK, VS exceeds all expectations as a man, who openly, with no regard for performative wokeness, simply objectifies women and repeatedly, endearingly, honestly, politely, loudly tells them that their consent means nothing. 

Vignesh Sivan stays away from cliches in his narrative, except for the one that lonely people don’t get to make choices, and certainly not healthy ones. Has he just accidentally, definitively explained why villains always have beautiful, vacuous consorts who find themselves compelled by their villainous charms? 

KRK is an important film for Tamil cinema, for its actors, for the times we live in. It reinforces the message that feminist thought has no place in mainstream entertainment and art; the audience loves a good villain; good production values mean nothing in the age of digital releases. 

And of course, it delivers its primary message — a woman’s consent means nothing in the face of a man who believes he deserves everything he’d like. 

They should just call it ‘Phantom Dread’

Posted in Gender, Hollywood, ReviewTagged , , , , Leave a comment

*Spoilers for the American film Phantom Thread from 2017*

In Phantom Thread, a raging misogynist buckles under the claustrophobia of the oppressive system meant to protect him. Like all men in power, he’d rather lose control over his life than give up his power; he’d rather suffer punishment than treat others equally than choose to bring down the hegemony that made him deserving of punishment.

The world of Reynolds Woodcock, a 19th-century master dressmaker, runs on the productivity and professionalism of women. The workers use a back entrance, are on time and deliver superior quality work every time. Reynolds’ sister Cyril serves as a manager/show runner of this factory/house. Reynolds is portrayed as the talent; he designs great dresses. And as we have seen with portrayals of great men, he needs a specific set of circumstances to unfold like clockwork around him to achieve this “genius.” He is cold, arrogant, and ignorant of the feelings of those around him.

While on a trip to the country, Reynolds falls for the first sprightly, soulful woman (Alma) he meets. With Alma reciprocating his feelings with intense curiosity and the hope of youth, they quickly become lovers. His routine is winded, but Alma’s youthful cheer and unflinching loyalty to his work make her irresistible to him. Eventually, they fall apart, but she is not done with him. She draws him out, and she reins him in. Completely given over, he is happy again, around the arms of a woman who knows to control him, but permits him to live in his hegemonic structure. She even fantasizes of him as a changed man with whom she has a happy future; but for now, she will settle for controlling him using his need for punishment.

Thanks to the attention to detail in the film’s plot and making,  Phantom Thread turns into a sublime inversion of the classic drama of the male hero’s will and his unattainable conquest. It is a cynical and satirical work overall, but it falls prey to conventional male-film making in the saddest of ways– throughout its narration, the film has a backdoor of sympathy to its misogynistic male protagonist.

Sympathetic portrayals of men show us more than they intend to. When done as exquisitely as this, they showcase the structure of the world around them that enables their menace. 

The women who work for Reynolds respect and treat him with undeserved kindness. He has abused this kindness for long, failing to make friends with them, despite their kindness. When he first meets Alma, he intrusive and oppressive; she flinches, but is more bemused than bothered by it.  He warms up to her quickly, telling her all his vulnerabilities on their first date. His face is filled with the joy of a younger man falling in love, or a weary, lonely man unbeknownst an ally. 

Alma and Cyril belong to different classes. Reynolds benefits of it, so unquestioningly enables it. Alma seamlessly forms allies with the workers at the house of Woodcock. Cyril jolts every time she realizes the increasing control Alma has over Reynolds. I cannot tell if Cyril is a caricature or not. She is, as many other reviews call her, Mrs Danvers-esque. Is this a male filmmakers nod to Hitchcock? Is it a misogynist’s need to show that women also cause problems for women?

The quest for liberation is supposed to act as a great leveler. One class of women cannot be liberated while others are not. And this vicious cycle is starkly exposed in Phantom Thread. We watch as Reynolds follows Cyril’s word with all his relationships in society. We learn that she enables his ignorance as long they can use his hegemony to maintain their status quo. We ignore the parts that show liberated women of the upper class using the hegemony of men to assert their superiority over the women of lower classes. We accept that women with class privilege are forever at the behest of men.

As such, Reynolds does not understand much of anything, let alone the intersectional nature of liberation. He gets confused and agitated over the contradicting claims of Alma and Cyril over him. All he knows is that only these women can protect him. And so, he follows them. 

Phantom Thread is yet another (unnecessary?) tale of the crippling effect oppression has on the oppressor. It attempts to tell us about how men hold on to misogyny, living with the trepidation of a swift and unforgiving reckoning. As things stand in the film, it is  slow and demanding. Is one worse than the other? I am not sure it matters.

I simply cannot wait for Frozen 3

Posted in Gender, Hollywood, ReviewTagged , , , , 1 Comment

Frozen is a coming-of-age story quite unlike any other Disney animation movie because of its white feminist essence. Much like all other works (Wonder Woman, Captain Marvel), white feminist actors and filmmakers come at us with their technical proficiency and prowess and unleash their empowerment in the subtext of the white man’s template. But, you could choose not to see the essence and consume it as simply another Disney adventure.

In Frozen, an ingenue becomes aware of herself through her choice of partner, and a matronly sister afraid of her own superpowers comes into her own by letting it go. The villain is male, and the strongest male character is in a supporting role, but they get more to do than most movie supporting characters. And there is a reindeer, a snowman, and mountain trolls with magical wisdom and quirky wit. Wondering whether people with marginalized racial-ethnic backgrounds are identified as these “magical creatures” lands us in a murky zone; but gender-wise, they are an amazing way of identifying the marginalized in Disney movies.

Frozen 2 picks up on this essence and rolls with it, changing and evolving into a hopeful narrative for the future. It is once again a white feminist narrative, but quite overtly so. Disney was likely pushed by the fear of Jennifer Lee (co-writer, co-director), Idina Menzel (lead singer and star), and Kristen Bell (pioneer of the teenage feminist narrative in Hollywood) leaving the project if they gave up this feminist essence. The villain is male and much more sinister, and the previously ‘leading’ male character comes to accept and assume a supporting role. What gives us hope is the white guilt of the Disney princess urging her to see the past and usher us into a better future.

We know the past, or know of the past. A bunch of power-hungry, white men tried to take over the world and failed, leaving in their wake a summary desecration of the very essence of being human. We don’t necessarily see this past. That is because we inherited much of the comfort we live in through this privilege. In Frozen 2, Queen Elsa listens to herself and takes an odyssey into her past to see where her privilege comes from. And like us, she knew of it, and she probably knew it was evil, but chose to live on, facing her day-to-day obstacles. Now, she chooses to do the difficult thing, and sees the past and relives a betrayal so colossal by the evil white man, that nature retreated into itself. Nature shook the earth and darkened her city to urge her to see. And she inherited her power to rule from this and she falls into herself unable to, in all her physical power, find an antidote to move on. But the ally Anna comes into her own, pushing herself into every quest, calling Elsa out on her individual/existential adventure (it is the history of all white people). Anna moves forward, her male allies finding it in themselves to embrace the supporting role, and sees it through to the end. This act of great courage and empowerment makes Elsa come back, and she saves the day (for everyone, this time).

In Frozen 3, if all goes according to overt white feminism here, Queen Anna, now ruling the nation, will need to take down all her grandfather’s statues and change the honorary titles and places named for him. With this act, a majority of her people will turn against her. Why won’t they? Elsa has the great privilege of following her voice. But even among us who are similarly privileged, we have to work for a living and cannot leave our cats unfed to take on a grand odyssey to reshape our identity. Anna will also face the dilemma of whether her claim to power is legitimate and if she chooses to democratize now, the majority who want the grandfather’s name reinstated will win.

Will she trust her people to change? How will she persuade them thus? Her sister has become a nature warrior, and on foreign shores, the authority of evil, white men is continuing to lead the world on a destructive path. Will she take the fight to them (Greta Thunberg, essentially)? How will their paths cross? More importantly, will we see them empower someone less privileged, and take them to the top?

I simply cannot wait for Frozen 3.

Ki and Ka: Missus and Mister, misses the point

Posted in Bollywood, Gender, ReviewTagged , , , , Leave a comment

by Uma Kaushik

In the 21st century, Director Balki, in the insufferable ‘Ki & Ka’, (how can you take a movie with a title like that seriously??!!) redefines the Indian Wife:

“She who sits at home, while her husband goes out to work, she who sweeps, mops and dusts, she who cooks and cleans, she who sticks out her hands and asks for money from the earning spouse, she who has no ambition or drive …
She is the Adarsh Biwi!”

So we meet Ki, (Kareena Kapoor, gorgeous, but trying too hard!) ambitious career woman. (please note that if you are a working girl, Director Balki believes that you can’t cook or keep a clean home – remember, only devoted housewives can do such stuff?!)

Enter Arjun Kapoor, IIM-B topper (because it’s very important for us to know that he is doing nothing with his life, despite being, ahem, a ‘topper’, out of choice!), flabby and cutely unfit (because Bollywood only expect its heroines to be unreasonably fit & fab – what double standards!) whose only ambition in life, is to be a housewife, like his mother!

What is left unanswered is, what the hell the dude, the son of one of the richest men in Delhi, has been doing till then??!!

After some ridiculous scenes, including Kabir’s Dad, asking his son to check inside his underwear, to confirm that he is a man, Ki & Ka (cringe, cringe!) get married.

The optimist in me hoped that now we could settle down to watch a decent, sensitive portrayal, of a stay-at-home-husband, who looks after the home front, while his capable spouse, earns their living.

But instead, this is when I had to remind myself that this was a phamily platform & that I could not cuss & use foul language …

Ki puts the mangalsutra around Ka’s neck, because the non-earning, dependent partner, becomes the wife, who wears the mangalsutra (our stud wears it bracelet ishtyle, on his wrist!) & he/she, who sports the mangalsutra, dons the kitchen apron …

So Ka begins his morning, sweeping the house, cleaning the living room, making coffee, churning out gourmet breakfasts & dinners, goes grocery shopping, attends kitty parties (because he is a ‘wife’ and apparently wives don’t have friends of their own!) & sticks out his hands to demand money for running the house!

Half-way through the movie, the realization dawns on me, that I am not a good wife. The only broom I would ever hold, is when my wish to become a witch is finally granted & I fly away on it!

I think gratefully of my ‘Ka’, who before starting a long day at work, gently closes the door, to allow me to sleep a little longer, puts on the kettle, gets coffee ready & sometimes, even loads the dishwasher, before quietly leaving for work. I hope Balki is not reading this, because he will have a heart attack!!!

The movie, through the kitty party circuit and ladies in apartments, make housewives look fat, frumpy & irrelevant!

Talk of lost opportunities. What could have been an uplifting story of changing roles and blurring those rigid lines, of the husband being the bread winner & the wife being the home maker, gets reduced to a parody, where the man, to assume responsibility of the house, while his wife goes to work, has to wear a mangalsutra, touch his mother-in-law’s feet, sweep & dust and hang out with only females!

My recommendation? Save yourself some money & time & avoid ‘K & K’. Instead, treat yourself to an outing with your spouse/partner/friend, because my dear friends, most of us are leading lives, with far more interesting stories & way more Kickass & Kooler ( ‘Ki & Ko’!!!) than ‘Ki & Ka’!

 

Uma Kaushik writes of movies and culture, smells of life and laughter.