Sun, 29 Aug 2004 00:52:26 -0700
Happy Onam to fellow Mallus on these lists (I'm half, and have eaten
enough kalan and olan and pal-payasam and made enough Onam flower
carpets as a kid - latent queer tendencies no doubt being manifested
in the pink rose petal borders I'd put on them - to count pretty much
as a full one).
And Onam seems the appropriate time to announce that
the queer
community in India is about to receive a present from Kerala: Sancharam
(The Journey), a really excellent feature film with a
lesbian theme that's set in rural Kerala. The film has been written
and directed by a Ligy Pullapally and has been released to very
good
reviews in Kerala.
Ligy is a good friend and when she was in Bombay for
a few days
recently to do the subtitling the film in English, she managed to
find the time to show it to a few of us. I knew that she was working
on a film, but I had little idea of what it was about.
I guess I'd thought vaguely it was a short film or
documentary, so I
was really surprised to see a full fledged feature - and such a
good
one, with a simple, but strong story line, lyrically shot and with
very good performance. After all the crap news we've had to deal
with
in recent months, this was a real tonic.
The film starts in rural Kerala - not the backwaters,
but the hilly
areas in the North, if I'm right - where the family of Kiran, a
Nair girl, comes to settle in her mother's old tharavad (ancestral
house).
Next door there's a Christian family with whose daughter, Delilah,
Kiran quickly becomes best friends. They grow up together, playing,
swimming, going to school, making fun of the boys.
As they grow older though Kiran realises her attraction
for Delilah,
who's really beautiful, but does her best to suppress it. A Cyrano
de
Bergerac like situation arises, when Rajan, one of the local boys
who's besotted with Delilah asks Kiran to help him write love letters
to her. Eventually though Delilah finds out it was Kiran writing
the
letters - and she responds to her.
But people start talking, Delilah's family starts
panicking and they
start looking for ways to marry her off. Kiran fights back, trying
to
get Delilah to resist the pressure. And then... well, I'll leave
it
for when you see it, but I will say that the ending, while not of
the
storybook kind, isn't unhappy either. One person at least gains
freedom.
All this is filmed against the lush backdrop of Kerala,
the histories
and customs of the tharavads, the strong women who run the houses
in
this matrilineal society. This is very much a women's film with
all
the strong roles going to them. Men instigate and force things,
but
its the womens struggles that are at the fore.
The character parts are excellent: Delilah's strong
and shrewd
mother, who runs the family since her husband is dead, her wise
and
loving grandmother, Kiran's rather cold mother, a teacher who is
unnerved when she finds out about the affair, and the local village
witch who susses the girls out, long before they realise themselves.
But the film rests with the two main characters and
they are excellent. Delilah is really pretty and she knows it. She's
the outgoing, flirtatious, confident one - until the end when realities
start closing in. Kiran is quieter, more inwardly focused, but
idealistic and able to find the strength when she needs it. I also
found her really attractive, all the more so for not being obviously
so.
The film is undoubtedly slow, but I never felt it
dragging. My only
criticism - apart from a computer generated image at the end which
did NOT work - is that perhaps Ligy underplayed the hostility the
girls would face. They encounter plenty, but its mostly shock and
confusion, whereas I'd guess - and I'm really guessing, I could
be
quite wrong here - in real life the girls would be likely to face
even more direct contempt and violence.
Perhaps Ligy decided not to go down that route since
that would unbalance the film, and give it a dark edge that would
take away from the relationship which really is its focus. One scene
though did ring true. After Delilah's family finds out she's shut
up in her room
while her mother, uncle and the priest come in turns to sit with
her. The mother wrings her hands, the priest prays and tells her
about the mercy of Jesus, but the uncle... he's sort of turned on.
He sits on the bed next to her with a half mocking,
half lewd expression on his face, he cups her chin in his hand and
says, "So
you've had your fun then!" It was a moment of toe-curlingly
truthfulness. I can think of so many Mallu men of that type, the
useless ones who are still so full of themselves, who sit around
drinking tea and shaking their legs and passing crude comments onany
woman who passes. That is _exactly_ how they would react.
Ligy has returned to Kerala, and from there will be going back to
the
US, where she lives, but she will now be finalising the formal release
of Sancharam, entering it for festivals, looking for distributors
and so on. Perhaps if we're lucky it might find commercial distribution,
but one way or the other, most people should be able to see it soon.
Don't miss seeing it if you get a chance!
Indian cinema has begun its first tentative
explorations of the theme of same sex love. Right from Fire by Deepa
Mehta to contemporary Hindi cinema perhaps best exemplified by Kal
Ho Na Ho, there is an increasing willingness to deal with a previously
taboo subject. However even in this new willingness there are boundaries
which are set which are convincingly shattered by the film Sancharam
by a young film maker Ligy Pullappally.
Sancharram ( The journey) is a film
set in Kerala which deals with an emerging relationship between
two young school going girls. The relationship starts from a childhood
friendship which grows very naturally into a full fledged romance
between the two girls. This love, is disrupted by the societal injunction
to heterosexuality, which appears through the presence of a boy
who is also in love with Delilah. However when the boy finds Delilah
and her friend locked in an embrace he quickly tells of this ´unnatural
love´ to Delilah´s mother. who after a hurriedly summoned
family conference, decides that the only way out is to quickly marry
off Delilah. Delilah when she comes back home, is beaten by her
mother and the symbol of her love a bangle given to her by Kiran
is broken and slowly the enormous pressure put on Delilah makes
her re-evaluate her life choices. Inspite of two brave attempts
made by Kiran to convince Delilah to run away with her, Delilah
feels that there is no option but to get married to the man her
mother chooses for her. Possibly the only support apart from Kiran
which Delilah gets is from her grandmother who berates her mother
by saying that you are marrying off your daughter to please society
and tomorrow none of these people who you are trying to please will
be there. Apart from her grandmother, Deliah gets reassurances from
Kiran that she will find a way of sustaining both of them. Delilah
however can see no future and is further traumatized by the strong
religiously induced feeling that what she is feeling is wrong and
that to even think of taking it forward would be a sin. The movie
ends by Kiran going off on the wedding day to a cliff to commit
suicide, but at the last moment she decides against it and rather
chooses life. This according to the young director Ligy Pullappally,
is the beginning of the journey ie Sancharam.
The film itself won an award instituted in the memory of the well
known progressive writer, P. Lankesh and was screened in Bangalore
to an audience which had turned up to honour his memory. If one
reads the film in the context of contemporary India one has not
note that it was an important film in at least two aspects.
Firstly, it is posed refreshingly as a critique of the institution
of family. Most films being in tune with the culturally hegemonic
view of the family as a natural, nurturing element which protects
one from the big bad world outside, generally end up reinforcing
the institution of the heterosexual family. Perhaps emblematic of
this romanticism of the family is the film Hum Aap Kha Hai Koun,
which has no story apart from the long drawn out elaboration of
the rituals of the heterosexual marriage.
This film by contrast turns this conventional understanding inside
out, by exposing the violence of the family. The family of Delilah
is a nurturing space only until the mother discovers that there
is a love which threatens the very ability of the family to be respectable
and indeed to be a family as conventionally understood. Lesbian
love is a threat which the institution of the heterosexual family
cannot countenance and will have to smother to ensure its own survival.
Thus the words nurturing and loving are precarious and apply only
so long as actions do not threaten the very ability of the family
to reproduce as a institution. The moment the heterosexual family
is threatened at its very root by the emergence of a lesbian love,
violence becomes the very face of this otherwise benign institution.
Secondly, the film is an incredible act of affirmation of queer
desire. Unlike Fire, in which the two women turn to each other only
after dissatisfaction with their respective heterosexual relationships,
in Sancharam the love of the two women is not premised on a failure
of a heterosexual relationship. In fact, the final scene in which
Delilah gets married to a boy, highlights the ´lack´
in the heterosexual relationship with her crying out for Kiran.
The importance of this affirmation cannot be underestimated in a
culture in which queer desire figures if at all as something which
is a perversion or in the case of Fire something which happens because
of the tragic failure of heterosexual love. In a culture of silence
where there is often no queer community to affirm one desire´s
a film such as Sancharam which shows the love between two women
is an important cultural marker. This film is one small but highly
significant step in affirming lesbain desire. One can imagine that
for the many thousands of women who will hopefully view this film,
this will act as a symbol of resistance, awakening and a call to
follow through on one´s desires.
Ligy Pullappally in response to a question as to why she had not
seen fit to develop the idea of a queer community as an affirmative
space particularly in a context in India when the community was
being increasingly visible, noted that, while it was true that the
community was being more and more visible it was equally true that
for a large number of women both in urban and in rural areas there
was no realistic possibility of accessing community support. For
most of these women who lived their lives in utter isolation the
structure of support and affirmation was really to be found in the
relationship which doubled up to play the role of friend, confidant
, lover and counsellor in the queer context.
However what is significant about this film is that through its
depiction of lesbian love, it begins the process of creating cultural
markers which in turn become the means through which one affirms
queer desire. It is true that this is by no means the first film
in which a queer relationship is depicted and if we go by the work
of many cultural critics its apparent that in many cultural artefacts
there is a queer thread which runs through. Right from recent films
such as Kal Ho Na Ho to earlier depictions there is a thread of
queer desire which runs through in subterranean currents which sometimes
reach the surface. However what is different about this film is
that there is no need to look deep to unearth the possibilities
of reading queer desire. The film in its open embrace of queer desire
affirms an important thread of contemporary culture and politics.
One hopes that this initial film in Malyalam will begin the process
of queering Indian cinema.