Bold and beautiful

Gulaab Gang, Highway, Queen and Lakshmi, the women centric films making the right noise at the moment are slick and bringing in the money. Are these films truly targeted to arouse the awareness of the mass audience to reality around us? Are these filmmakers shocked by the atrocities against women in public domain with justice dragging its feet? Or, are they ready-made, cleverly structured packages riding piggy back on the woman question to laugh all the way to the bank? In an occasional film like Nagesh Kukunoor’s Lakshmi, the target is awards at the national and international level.

What happens when a producer-director takes on a real ‘movement’ to make a film on? Does the glamourisation of a flesh-and-blood movement by women against violation of human through a mainstream masala film add to the cause of these women? Or does it take away by trivialising the movement?

Producer Anubhav Sinha and director Shoumik Sen have capitalised on a real rural women’s movement in Gulaab Gang. Taking on two actresses who were on the top in Bollywood  a decade or so ago like lMadhuri Dixit and Juhi Chawla and placing them as onscreen rivals is the best proof of trying to create masala magic. But the film is more song-and-dance routine than portrayal of the woman on whose real life story the film is loosely based upon. Then there is also the deeply offensive scene to portray the extent of the evil politician (Juhi Chawla) when she orders a cringing man to crawl through the spreading legs of a woman assistant to punish him before bestowing political favour.

The real-life Gulabi Gang was founded by Sampat Pal Devi, 43, an unlettered mother of five in 2006. It has now a strength of thousands rural women clad in pink saris journeying from one town to another in Bundelkhand, Uttar Pradesh, to create awareness among poor and neglected men and women about their rights, to fight for rights that have been violated and try and bring justice to victims.

Highway directed by Imtiaz Ali opens with preparations for an extravagant wedding negotiated between two millionaire families. Veera, the beautiful bride is exhilarated about the wedding and enjoys being the centre of attention. But one twist of destiny and her life goes on a dangerous ride across the countryside when she is kidnapped by Mahabir, a Delhi hoodlum who does not blink while planning either to bump her off or traffic her at some red light area for a high price.

After a point, Veera begins to enjoy the new ‘freedom’ along with the rough-and-tough journey and discovers love with the much older Mahabir who is killed by the police. But when Veera returns to the safety of her home, she angrily spills the beans about her father’s older relative sexually abusing her since she was a little girl and her mother telling her to remain quiet. Why did Imtiaz Ali fall back on this cheap gimmick in an otherwise interesting story? 

Queen opens with preparations for the grand wedding of the beautiful and naïve Rani or Queen, the daughter of a rich mithaiwalla of Delhi. But the wedding is called off by the groom because he feels they are mismatched. Queen decides to proceed on the planned Paris honeymoon, but alone.

The Paris phase spans the entire narrative but then, the script slips out of control and logic is lost. She shares a small room with bunker beds with three young men – an Asian who lost his family in the Tsunami, an African and a Russian. It seems a bit far-fetched – this arrangement, even for a woman less naïve than Rani to agree to share a tiny room with three total strangers. Backpacker hostels usually are segregated for male and female boarders. The power-packed performance of Kangana Ranaut makes the film brilliantly entertaining but it does not do away with its commercial packaging with Paris and Amsterdam thrown in for touristic value. 
Nagesh Kukkunoor’s Lakshmi deals with trafficking of women and children which is, however, in no way exclusive to India. Trafficking in human beings in general and girls and women in particular has reached epidemic proportions, leaving no country immune. The International Organization for Migration estimates that the global trafficking industry generates up to US $ 8 billion every year.

But with its graphic violence depicted almost with voyeuristic passion, Lakshmi makes you feel that the situation is more severe in India. Though it is said to be a collation of the true stories, offensively shocking scenes are repeated ad nauseam such as the 13-year-old beautiful Lakshmi washing her private parts, or the madam handing her a jar of cream to ‘soften’ the process. Worse is when Chinna, the pimp punishes the brothel madam in a manner copied from cheap horror flicks. Lakshmi’s revolt and determination to see that the guilty are punished are undercut by these graphic details.

Lakshmi has won the Outstanding International Feature award at the Reel World Film Festival in Toronto recently. So, what women’s agenda are we talking about where the script, the camera, the editing and the dialogue are all tailored to brutalise the protagonists in the some way? While trying to tell the story of betrayal  by family and society and the protagonist rising above it to bring the traffickers to book, is it necessary to emphasise in such brute details what the girl goes through? In doing so, it deviates from the intention.

Another point in question , why all the protagonists in these films are so beautiful?