Release
date:
|
February 9, 2018
|
Director:
|
R. Balki
|
Cast:
Language:
|
Akshay Kumar, Radhika Apte,
Sonam Kapoor
Hindi
|
Akshay Kumar is charming.
Arunachalam Muruganantham
redefines the word fascinating.
Separately, Kumar’s charisma and Muruganantham’s
saga are remarkable ingredients for any film. Together though, they are Padman’s failing and its strength.
Muruganantham’s life has been
widely chronicled by journalists and was the subject of the excellent
documentary Menstrual Man by Amit Virmani released in 2012. A poor school dropout from Tamil Nadu, Muruganantham invented
a low-cost production system for sanitary napkins when he saw his wife using
dirty, unhygienic home-made cloth pads during her periods. His methods, media
reports tell us, have now become both a source of inexpensive, clean sanitary
pads and income for rural women across most Indian states as he spearheads a
movement to install these hand-operated machines in villages where they are run
by women entrepreneurs.
The journey to this place has
come at great personal cost. At first, shocked that a man would concern himself
with menstruation – a subject that remains taboo in many communities in India –
he was boycotted by locals and even his family who deemed him a pervert. Today,
of course, he is an award-winning innovator of global repute who has earned the
respect of his people and his parivaar.
In writer-director R. Balki’s
hands, Muruganantham has become Lakshmikant Chauhan, a poor man from Madhya
Pradesh who notices his bride using filthy rags in place of pads, is shocked at
the high cost of sanitary pads available in the market and thus sets off on the
same road taken by our real-life hero.
If you view Padman in a vacuum bereft of context, it is entertaining and, for
the most part, sensible. How do you do that though after Muruganantham has
acquired such fame, unless you have been sleeping under a rock?
Knowing that this is the biopic
of a real person who has been changed from Tamilian to north Indian in the
script so that a north Indian megastar could play the part makes Padman an example of so much that is
wrong with north Indian cinema and our society as a whole. The
north-Indian-isation of a southerner is becoming somewhat of a routine practice
in Bollywood – and Kumar its foremost practitioner. The heroics of a Malayali
man called Mathunny Matthews and others in the Middle East were turned into the
tale of a fictional Punjabi called Ranjit Katiyal (again played by Kumar) for Airlift in 2016. Late last year, the experiences
of a group of Malayali nurses who escaped captivity in Iraq after their
hospital was taken over by ISIS (recounted so beautifully in the Mollywood film
Take Off) was rewritten as an account
of a swashbuckling fictional espionage agent called Avinash Singh Rathore (Salman
Khan) rescuing them in the Bollywood film Tiger Zinda Hai.
The message from Bollywood is
clear: the definitive, normative Indian is a northerner, Hindu, upper caste and
male, while the rest of us are exceptions.
The difference between Airlift and Padman is that Matthews was little known outside Kerala, and
therefore it was possible to place him on the backburner of the mind while
watching the film. The difference between Tiger Zinda Hai and Padman is that Tiger positioned itself as over-the-top
commercial fare that is not to be taken seriously, whereas Padman’s narrative style is such that it asks to be taken seriously.
This is, of course,
heartbreaking, because barring this troubling truth, Balki tells his story with
efficiency and, by and large, with sensitivity. It is wonderful to see a
mainstream film pulling menstruation out of the realm of whispers. Besides,
Kumar is a delight to watch, never more so than when he absolutely kills a
speech delivered by Chauhan at the United Nations. He has an irresistible
screen presence, Radhika Apte is flawless playing his wife, and the packaging –
pleasant music, Kausar Munir’s breezy lyrics that resonate with meaning – makes
the first half in particular completely engrossing.
(Spoilers
in this paragraph) By the second half, Padman
stumbles. One reason is the insertion of a character called Pari Walia as an
MBA student who decides to help Chauhan/Muruganantham in his business. Sonam
Kapoor is sweet as the fictional Ms Walia until the silly contrivance of a
romance between her and the hero, which is hurriedly forced into the narrative.
This terribly unconvincing angle sullies their segment because the writing does
not convey a progression of emotions up to the point where she expresses her
feelings for him. This is possibly the reason for the zero chemistry between
the two stars (it does not help that Kapoor looks young enough to be Kumar’s
daughter here). (Spoiler alert ends)
It is here too that Padman’s conflicted gender politics surfaces along with its limited
understanding of the taboo around menstruation. Balki and his co-writer Swanand
Kirkire seem to assume that two characters of the opposite sex played by two
glamorous stars cannot possibly be just friends.
Besides, the early part of the
film went into not just the need for affordable sanitary napkins in
Chauhan/Muruganantham’s town, but another crucial issue: the social assumption
that a menstruating woman is inauspicious and polluted, which is why women in
so many communities are forced to stay out of the house, away from family and society,
on those days of the month. By the end of Padman,
the availability of sanitary napkins miraculously and without explanation leads
to the end of the stigma too. This is a simplistic supposition, disappointing
considering how well the subject of menstruation is dealt with in the first
half.
For a film that is about
self-sustenance among women, there is also some needless patriarchal dialoguebaazi about a mard being one who can provide raksha (protection) to the women in his
life.
That said, there is so much in Padman that is enjoyable and meaningful.
Muruganantham’s bio is so incredible that if you did not know his is a true
story you might have refused to believe it. Kumar and Apte deliver engaging
performances. And Balki says what he has to say with a light touch and in a
non-preachy tone.
While watching Padman I tried my best to get over my
exasperation at the Chauhanisation of Muruganantham. It was hard. Balki has said in an interview that his purpose was to take a message to a larger
audience that Hindi cinema affords (especially since the Hindi belt is worse
off in the matter of menstrual hygiene than the rest of India, that casting
Kumar was part of this effort, that in any case he could not envision anyone
but Kumar in the role and that it would have been unnatural to set a Hindi film
in Tamil Nadu. Hmm, I wonder how we would have felt if Richard Attenborough had
decided that it would be unnatural to set an English film in India, had rewritten
Mahatma Gandhi as a white Briton leading India to freedom and had cast a famous
white actor in the role, all with the claim that he wanted to spread the
message of ahimsa far and wide. Same thing, no?
There is a lot I liked about Padman, but a lot that bothered me about
it too.
Rating
(out of five stars): **1/2
CBFC Rating (India):
|
UA
|
Running time:
|
139 minutes 59 seconds
|
This review was also published on Firstpost:
Poster
courtesy: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pad_Man_(film)
Anna, I have been following your reviews for a while now, but haven't commented until now.
ReplyDeleteDon't you get the feeling that R Balki is one of the worst transgressors where misogyny on screen is concerned? Especially because he pretends to be (or is seen as) this 'woke' film-maker who has strong women characters?
Vidya in Paa for example - great character, until she decides to rebuke a woman for not having a child because 'that's what a woman's body is meant to do'. And she's a gynaecologist!
Tabu in Cheeni Kum - strong, independent, until her choices about her own life are hijacked by two idiots who both decide they have the right to decide her life options for her.
Ki and Ka where the whole gender-reversal made me want to barf!
His films are presented as 'progressive' but is underlined by some of the most regressive attitudes I have seen. :(
p.s. Love your writing, even if I don't always agree with you. :)
Hi Anu,
DeleteI am playing catch-up with this blog's long neglected comments section which is why this response is so late. Regarding Balki, I would not call him the worst transgressor in the matter of on-screen misogyny, but I did find that scene with Vidya's character and her patient in Paa very problematic - I asked Vidya about it in an interview several years back, and while she disagreed with me, she promised to give my objections some thought.
I think social conditioning can be so effective that we often do not even realise how much it has shaped us. Ki and Ka, for instance, was a mixed bag for me. Some of it revealed the filmmaker's deeply ingrained prejudice, but some of it was unexpectedly progressive if you look at it in the context of what Bollywood conventionally makes. I find that the only way I can maintain my sanity and positivity is to celebrate every small step forward even as I vehemently denounce the misogyny I see around me.
Thank you for your kind words about my writing :)
Regards,
Anna