What matters in reality TV’s finest hour: Suchitra, the interviewer, and Karthik Kumar

By H. Prasanna 

“Hell hath no fury…” said William Shakespeare, who some believe was a woman. “There are no greater misogynists than women and gay men” goes the trope. Was William Shakespeare a gay man or a woman, or did they use a man to make it as a playwright, does it matter? None of this matters. Was he starting a trope for centuries when he said that? Yes, that matters. The reality TV gold in every Suchitra interview is that she never tells us why it matters. And she similarly jumps from one seemingly unhinged theory to another. This time, in an interview with Kumudam, she has captured lightning in a bottle much like her contemporary Vanitha Vijaykumar, who did it during the pandemic.

The conflation of “real” stakes and “reality” stakes is so engaging that I wanted to jump up and scream at my mobile screen. From Shakila’s proxy motherhood of a girl she has never met to YouTube Moms guilting their children, how fascinating her trains of thought that leave the station never to come back.

Does it matter that the interviewers don’t let women speak?

In an interview almost exclusively chronicling the misdeeds of men, the coveted “worst male” award goes to Suchitra’s interviewer. He interrupts her with his moralizing so much, that we would not have this gold if not for Suchitra’s sheer force of will breathing him down. The interview gets away from him very quickly. He cannot keep her on track and he cannot keep her off track.

Bill Burr, in a recent podcast with Bill Maher, said “You are someone with a fantasy football team who believes he is a GM.” He was responding to Bill Maher saying “he was the only brave one” for standing up to students protesting in American universities. Interviewers more often than not seem to believe that they and the audience have some personal stake in the interviewee’s life. This man is no exception.

Does it matter that we (the royal “we”) men are held accountable for our actions?

The problem for us reality TV audience is (to borrow from “Blue Sattai” Maaran) the villains are weak. Much of the content created by men are between blasé and banal. Bailvan Ranganathan (BR), a “reporter” who called her a nymphomaniac, is simply attacking her by calling her “a criminal psychopath” and Karthik Kumar is asking for “positive vibes” on Instagram.

The fact that Suchitra gave an interview and not a one-man show like BR and Karthik Kumar matters. It shows what women are really up against when holding men accountable. We need a male interviewer there to legitimize that what she is talking about is not just a “woman’s issue”. And the fact that he interrupts her constantly makes us realize she needs to be heard.

The most interesting thing about Karthik Kumar’s rebuttal was what he didn’t say. Suchitra piles on a million reasons about how he is human garbage. Maybe he is not. But, he doesn’t care about those things. He only talks about sexuality. Not his sexuality, sexuality in general. Does it matter if Karthik Kumar is a closeted gay man? It doesn’t. But it does matter if he was in a marriage with a straight woman!

A screenshot of the movie poster for the movie Kaathal - Teh Core

He does not need to address that. But then he didn’t need to address anything, and with these fake reality TV stakes he could have really made this blossom. With him being a comedian who writes his own material for a living, I really expected more. But, he just vaguely rambles on about sexuality: “all types of sexuality are normal.” “Gay people have to say pride to be accepted as normies.” “Be proud to be all types of sexual.” Thanks for nothing, Karthik Kumar.

The responsibility and work of emotional competence in the light of abuse is not on the victim, if he is the victim. But, is it ever typical that a man conducts himself with emotional competence when accused of something by a woman? He refuses to contextualize himself or present his case in any coherent manner. He simply asks for support, which is he is getting, mostly from women. At its worst, it is a reality TV dud, a banal passive aggressive jab against a mountain of viral content.

Does it matter how we are held accountable?

It does matter how we are held accountable, and it should not descend into abuse. The fact that Suchitra gets a platform and her open disdain shows us she is privileged and empowered. She doesn’t mince words, she minces those she accuses. She calls them names. She soulfully manifests that they get no IPL tickets (equals a slow painful death in cricket fandom).

But, Suchitra’s brand of rage is extremely familiar to men. It is the reason women talk to husbands when they are driving or at the dining table. Because men run away and women are not heard and things remain the same. It is the quiet simmering ember that lives on the surface fuelled by the our (man’s) refusal to learn emotional competence and address the real issue, learn thought leadership and take point at least sometimes, and learn to be kind when we are right. Watching this interview is like plunging into the ashes of those embers.

Suchitra says she lost her career because of something that men did. I don’t know what is going to happen to BR or Karthik Kumar or the others, but I can guess. They never need to take any responsibility or change. They will be supported through this ordeal, probably by the law as well. It will not end their careers, quite the opposite, at least for Karthik Kumar, who had previously positioned himself as a woke comic. This is not a glitch in the system, this is the system. I think I am pretty safe in assuming Suchitra knows this, and every other woman too. So, you have already lost your career and no one will be held accountable. If it is not “right,” how she speaks at least makes sense to me. But does it matter?

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Kaathuvaakula Oru Villain

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. 

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. 

Moving on from Gendered Entitlement?

I remember plonking down on the sofa one day to watch T.V., only to switch it off in disgust because the first movie I saw was titled ‘Manalane mangayin baagyam” (A husband is a woman’s blessing). Later, I came to know that the movie was about a princess who fights for the life of her husband against an ichaadari nagin (clichéd, I know but isn’t that the basic premise of most Indian movies?); but at what cost? A princess who is forced to leave the comforts of her palace and live in a thatched hut because she now “belongs” to her husband. I understand that the whole concept of marriage being “pious” and “saath janmon ka rishta” (a bond of seven lives) was well embedded in the society back then, but this is taking it a bit too far.

Literature was never short of strong feminist roles, and many such gems have been converted into masterpieces in this era, such as ‘Kannagi’  but, at the same time, movies that are considered to be classics do portray woman, who would be called strong willed and self sufficient today – as head strong and arrogant.

Then, we have the 80s and 90s where the predominant theme was ‘the sister’ who had to be avenged, because either she was raped or murdered. This theme has been repeatedly used, and I must agree, rather creatively, in super hits like ‘Panakaran’ (Tamil), ‘Sakalakala Vallavan’ (Tamil), the famous ‘Garv: Pride and Honour’ (Hindi), and even Bollywood cult-classic ‘Gunda’. This was also the time, where the portrayal of woman as the property of men was rampant. “tu meri hai”( you’re mine) is a common term you can find in many songs. One such example is the ever famous song from Darr that goes along the lines of “tu haan kar, ya naa kar, tu hai meri Kiran” (you may say yes or no, but you’re still mine, Kiran). I agree, these were the pangs of a psychopath; but throw in anything with a catchy tune and the song is a guaranteed hit.

Another recurring theme in this era can be seen in movies like ‘Taal’,  where a girl pines for her ‘loved one’ even after he has dropped her like a hot potato, and in the end gets married to him and such movies are deemed to be classics. One movie that took it too far was ‘Pukar’, the premise of which was, if you thwart a girl’s advances, she wouldn’t mind endangering the safety of an entire nation. Whoa, where did you come up with that? Kudos to you!

On to movies that are of relevance today, you have amazing movies with a strong willed woman playing a pivotal role such as, ‘Mozhi’, ‘36 Viyathinile’, ‘Neerja’ and ‘Mary Kom’ to name a few. But at these same times, there are movies such as ‘Ki and Kaa’, which mastered the art of portraying feminism incorrectly, and in bad light. But, even today, there is any Salman Khan movie, where the job of the heroine to dress up like a doll, and play the quintessential damsel in distress, who “Bhai” saves.

During an era in which we are exploring severely undiscussed themes like homosexuality, there are brilliant films like ‘Aligarh’ and ‘Margarita with a straw’ or even an average family entertainer like ‘Kapoor and Sons’, that dealt with the topic with so much ease, we definitely have come a long way from where we started, but we still have a long way to go.

By Harimohana Narayanan

With inputs from Varun Tandon, a fellow movie buff.

 

Six Tamil ‘Heroine-Introduction’ songs actually about the ‘Heroine’

It’s Women’s Day! Yay! Okay, that’s all the enthusiasm I can manage, without making this about me and my complex emotions.

 

Chinna Chinna Aasai

I am not saying this happens all the time, but many times, women are not singing about themselves, in cinema. Often, they are singing about men, or maybe about waiting for love, or romance, often used as props for the male protagonists in the film. So, to celebrate Women’s Day, we thought we’d put together a list of Tamil film heroines who just want to sing about themselves, à la En Peru Padaiyappa; Naan adicha thaangamaate;  My name is Billa ; Maari; Vethala pota shokile

Here’s a great, definitive sample, Thalaivar himself:

To make it into the list, we wanted the song to pass the following test: Does it, introduce the female protagonist, describe her character, her life, her dreams, her ideologies, the way many ‘hero-introduction songs’ describe male protagonists? Here’s what we have.

  1. Megam Karukuthu, Khushi 

This song gave me the idea, for this list. The director of Khushi, infamous SJ Suryah once said during a promotional interview for this movie, that he wanted his heroine to ‘dance like Amitabh Bachchan’ in a song, and that was what led to this song being what it is. Unabashed,  optimistic, the protagonist sings of herself, her beauty, her will, and her strength.

Excerpt:

Kaatrai Pol Enakkumkooda Sirahondrum Kidaiyaathu
Tharai Mela Sellumpothu Sirai Seiya Mudiyaathu

Loosely translates to: “Like the wind, I don’t really have wings, when you move on the ground, there is no prison”

2. Chinna Chinna Aasai, Roja

Roja takes about 2 or 3 minutes to tell you that the protagonist, Roja, is spirited, ambitious; light-hearted, but determined.

Excerpt:

Maegangalai Ellaam, Thottuvida Aasai
Sogangalai Ellaam, Vittuvida Aasai
Kaarkuzhalil Ulagai, Kattivida Aasai

Loosely translates to: “I want to touch the clouds, I want to leave my sorrows behind, I want to bind the world with my long black braid”

3. Maargazhi Poove, May Maadham

In one light A.R.Rahman-powered breeze, Maargazhi Poove tells us the story of Sandhya, the female protagonist of May Maadham. With a distinct theme of loneliness, the song speaks of Sandhya’s yearning for a sense of belonging, longing for a sense of adventure, and her unease at living a protected life.

Excerpt:

Vazhkayil Orupaathi Naan Endru Vasipaen
Vazhkayil Marupaathi Naan Endru Rasipaen
Katriloru Maegam Polae Naan Endrum Mithapaen

Loosely translates to “I will live as half of my life, and the other half, I will enjoy, as myself, I will float in the wind as a cloud”.

4. Konjum Mainaakale, Kandukonden Kandukonden

Meenakshi, one of two protagonists of Rajiv Menon’s Kandukonden Kandukonden, sings of herself and her dreams in Konjum Mainaakale, describing her strong, stubborn, generous self, her intrepid desire for life, her abundant optimism.

Excerpt:

Indrae Varavaendum En Deepaavali Pandigai
Naalai Verum Kanavu, Adhil Naan Yen Nambanum
Naam Nattadhum Roja Indrae Pookkanum

Loosely translates to: “My Deepavali should be celebrated today.  Why should I believe in tomorrow, it is just a dream. My roses should bloom as soon as I sow them.”

5. En jannal Vandha Kaatre, Theeradha Vilaiyaatu Pillai

The song, believe it or not, is from Theeradha Vilaiyaatu Pillai (link to plot summary), and it introduces the male protagonist, as well as the three female leads, describing each of their personalities. It is incredible to me that I found this song in this misogynist movie. Incredible, but interesting.

6. Paadariyen Padippariyen, Sindhu Bhairavi

Set to introduce Sindhu, one of the two female protagonists of Sindhu Bhairavi, Paadariyen describes Sindhu’s personality, her perspective, registers her as a strong-willed, intelligent, immersive, compulsive person. Sindhu sings of herself, of what she believes in; with wit, humour, and unmistakable chutzpah- an attribute the character displays throughout the film.

Excerpt:

Aettula ezhudhavilla ezhudhivechchup pazhakkamilla
elakkanam padikkavilla thalaganamum enakku illa

Loosely translates to “I didn’t write this down, I didn’t study grammar, I am not headstrong”.

If you think of other songs that fit our criteria, or would like to create a list of your own, with entirely different criteria, write in, on genderallycinema@gmail.com, or leave a comment here!