Vetrimaaran’s ‘Oor Iravu’ with Sai Pallavi and Prakash Raj is the best of the four films.
Then Putham Pudhu Kaalai On Amazon Prime Video, the Tamil industry has created another anthology film for the OTT (Over-the-Top) space: Paava Kadhaigal which has just been released on Netflix. However, this time the theme is clearly different from the light and sparkling vibe of the previous film, although two of the directors of Paava Kadhaigal had worked in Putham Pudhu Kaalai as well.
The four films, each directed by Sudha Kongara, Gautham Menon, Vignesh Shivn and Vetrimaaran, revolve around chaste and patriarchal notions of “honor.” While caste violence has often been described in Tamil cinema as one community oppressing another, there have not been too many cases where caste violence within the family is exposed. Movies like Kaadhal and Gouravam have explored the issue in the past, and lately directors such as Pa Ranjith, Mari Selvaraj, and Vetrimaaran have voiced their thoughts on breaking the silence about on-screen castes. Indeed, the rise of anti-caste voices within the Tamil film industry has led to films such as Draupathi who blatantly glorify caste pride and even defend caste killings.
Furthermore, the Central Board of Film Certification (CBFC) harbors problematic ideas about the representation of castes on screen. While celebrating caste pride is not seen as caste, even the use of the word “Dalit”, a political and social identity that oppressed people have chosen for themselves, is considered objectionable. Films that speak of caste violence therefore rarely openly mention which communities are being represented. Spectators must make connections with the symbols and practices shown on the screen. It is in this context that Paava Kadhaigal was made.
As with most anthology films, the quality is uneven. The first, titled Thangam, is directed by Sudha Kongara and is about a trans woman from a Muslim family who undertakes a dangerous task that earns her the ire of the family. Members of the trans community have repeatedly said that trans characters on screen should be played by trans actors and not cis people, using it as an opportunity to showcase their acting talent. However, most movies with trans characters continue to cast cis actors for these roles. While this criticism is valid and cannot be reiterated enough, it must be said that Kalidas Jayaram in the role of Sattar plays the character with empathy and a kind of vulnerability that makes us support her.
The movie is set in the 1980s and the setting has been carefully recreated. Sattar is in love with the handsome merchant (Shanthanu Bhagyaraj) in her village and, although the latter treats her as a friend, it does not correspond to her feelings. On the other hand, he is interested in the sister of Sattar (Bhavani). The story takes a sinister turn when Sattar decides to sacrifice herself for the happiness of the man she loves. While the film places Sattar at the center of the narrative and makes the viewer identify with the character’s situation, the violence applied to him is disconcerting. Not that it doesn’t happen in real life, but art offers an opportunity for marginalized groups to assert their agency and when it is denied there as well, the sense of powerlessness is further magnified.
Sattar is treated as less than human by everyone around her, including her family. Vinodhini Vaidyanathan as the desperate mother who washes her ‘son’s hands’ to save the family honor turns out to be a devastating performance. The couple’s response to the end of Sattar’s fate is when they get the bare minimum: the recognition that she too is human. However, I found myself wondering if the politics of the film would have been better if Sattar had become the hero not because of his sacrifice but because of his assertion of identity. I also wish Sudha had pushed the boundaries further and allowed Shanthanu’s character to examine her feelings for Sattar; With Sattar open to her feelings for him, it is strange that the latter is completely oblivious to it. In fact, he gifts her a tube of lipstick that she wishes and felt that the narrative might have explored the possibilities there.
The second film titled Vaanmagal, directed by Gautham Menon, has the filmmaker playing a father of two girls and a boy, with Simran playing his wife. Of the four movies, this was the most exhilarating to watch and has the most to do with how more than the topic has been done. Representing sexual assault on the screen requires a high degree of sensitivity, especially if it is a minor victim. But while Gautham’s intention to flip the notion of honor is laudable, he is clumsy in executing it. For example, when two men discuss what it would be like to violate Simran’s character, one of them says, “If I do, I will become a bhoopathy.” It’s a reference to Simran’s famous dance number from an old movie, but the joke in that context is in very bad taste.
The scenes involving the child also needed a much more sensitive look than the usual representations of ‘rape’. Gautham is clearly a long way from his “ fancy ” romance comfort zone here (actually, it would have been interesting to see him make a film about honor in the upper class, upper caste families), with the writing every clumsy like the movie. progress. Lines like “My little girl has become a big woman because of this” are anchored in patriarchal notions about rape, where the victim ‘changes’ and thus becomes an outcast. And how ridiculous that sexual assault is described as a “transformative” process of femininity! It can be argued that these are the thoughts of the flawed characters and not the director, but nowhere does the narrative challenge these outdated ideas.
Also read: ‘Putham Pudhu Kaalai’ – A light anthology that’s fun to watch
The solution to the crime is also problematic and a form of wish fulfillment that has become all too common on screen. Simran as a mother, however, is fantastic. His denial, his dilemma, his howls of pain cut to the bone and it is his performance that really makes the movie visible.
The third movie, Love Panna Uttranam, is directed by Vignesh Shivn and is interesting in places. While the other three movies are dark from the start, Vignesh tries some comedy in his segment. Anjali plays identical twins, one who is modern and one who is traditional. Padam Kumar plays the father of the twins, a ruthless man who has a reputation for bringing inter-caste couples together, but is actually a violent and chaste person.
Some of the black comedy, like the domestic worker waiting for her cue to utter a dramatic line, is genuinely funny, as is the angle with Kalki Koechlin, a white woman who knows Tamil but the locals don’t (the henchman is very well). But the film loses its way as it progresses and makes fun of a serious subject; reduces a complex subject to a misleading line like ‘love panna uttranam’, even providing a happy ending to a character who has committed a caste and violent crime. Anjali, who has never hesitated to push the boundaries with her roles, does so in this movie too, and it’s a shame we don’t see her in more movies.
Vetrimaaran Oor Iravu It is, in my opinion, the best of the four films. Sai Pallavi plays a pregnant woman who is invited by her estranged family for a baby shower in her hometown. Prakash Raj plays his father, and the film is a tense exploration of past and present events that leads to a conclusion that is predictable yet fascinating. The crowded house, so warm and inviting at first, becomes the scene of unspeakable horror. Like Mari Selvaraj’s Pariyerum Perumal, this film also has a father who is torn between his affiliation to a caste society and his love for his daughter. And the depth of those affiliations unfolds in pieces. He cannot accept a glass of water from his Dalit son-in-law, he has taken his younger children out of university because he does not want them to follow in his brother’s footsteps.
Sai Pallavi is excellent as the independent young woman who chooses to follow her heart and does not apologize for her life. Even when caught in difficult circumstances, she remains defiant and never asks for forgiveness. Prakash Raj is scary because his character is very real and not written as a monster that we can safely distance ourselves from.
Usually, Paava Kadhaigal presents a grim look at a violent caste society rarely depicted on screen. It is also successful in showing how caste and gender are interrelated, with honor firmly tied to women’s bodies. However, I wish the movie had also offered possibilities rather than adding to the conditioning that it is impossible to break the status quo and that people who try to do so will meet a cruel fate. To be fair, Gautham Menon’s Vaanmagal It goes in that direction, but suffers due to its problematic understanding and representation of GBV. This is not a fool’s wish for a happy ending at the movies; Politically conscious art must go beyond the mere representation of oppressive realities and imagine what would happen if and why not, which may seem impossible to viewers.
See: Trailer of ‘Paava Kadhaigal’
Disclaimer: This review was not paid for or commissioned by anyone associated with the series / movie. TNM Editorial is independent of any commercial relationship that the organization may have with the producers or any other member of their cast or team.
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