Release
date:
|
Kerala: June 15, Delhi: June 22, 2018
|
Director:
|
Ranjith Sankar
|
Cast:
Language:
|
Jayasurya, Jewel
Mary, Innocent, Aju Varghese, Joju George, Shobha Mohan, Suraj Venjaramoodu,
Malavika Menon, Siddhartha Siva, Kochu Preman,
Jins Baskar, Advaith Jayasurya
Malayalam
|
Mathukkutty has been torn by
internal conflict since his childhood. Though born with the external appearance
of a boy, he has always identified as a girl, and grows into adulthood feeling
like a woman trapped in a man’s body. Realising that this inner turmoil
will haunt him forever if he does not become who he believes he was meant to
be, he quits his high-flying corporate job in Chennai, undergoes gender
reassignment surgery to begin the physical transformation to a woman and
returns to Kerala for this arduous journey.
Writer-director Ranjith Sankar’s
latest film is the story of Marykkutty nee Mathukkutty – not necessarily told
in the order followed by that opening paragraph – and the many battles she must
fight in a society that not merely rejects her but reacts viciously and even
with physical violence towards this new challenge to the patriarchal status
quo.
Men molest, humiliate and defame
her. A female government official snarls at her for giving up the huge social
advantages of being a man. Shunned by some, ridiculed or assaulted by others,
she also finds kindness in unexpected places.
The most notable aspect of Njan Marykkutty is the normalisation of
a character who, across Indian film industries, would usually be a source of
humour. When Marykkutty is lampooned, the lampooning comes from people in the film, not the tone of the
film itself.
This is significant because
mainstream Mollywood in particular is unapologetically patriarchal and frighteningly
misogynistic too often. Ranjith Sankar himself has revealed disturbing gender
politics in earlier works: his supernatural flick Pretham (2016), for instance, among other things featured an ugly
rape joke by Jayasurya’s character.
Njan Marykkutty appears to emerge from
conviction, so hopefully he has evolved. If his writing of this transitioning
woman can be faulted at all, it is for its inability to see any faults in her.
A member of a marginalised community does not have to be a saint to deserve
equal rights, and this sanitisation is another form of othering to guard
against.
That Sankar needs to evolve
further becomes evident in a scene in which a Collector (Suraj Venjaramoodu)
snubs a man for his transphobia by insinuating that he is a eunuch. Err, if you
see eunuch as a pejorative, then you are part of the problem, no?
In another scene, Sankar seems to
imply that reservations are for untalented individuals through a conversation
between Marykkutty and the Collector, which fails to grasp the social
complexities that give rise to the need for affirmative action.
In its own way Njan Marykkutty buys into prejudice
again in an unthinking scene in which Marykkutty is asked by her teacher, “Are
you a feminist?” and she feels the need to issue a clichéd denial. “No, I am a
humanist,” she says. Umm, you are not a feminist, Marykkutty? So you are
against gender equality? Duh.
The screenplay also needed
greater clarity in a conversation in which Marykkutty states: “I am not a
transgender, I’m transsexual.” Since transgender is an umbrella term that
covers transsexual, it is unclear whether Marykkutty is not aware of this or
whether she objects to being labelled with a general rather than specific term.
Yeah yeah, I know what some of you are saying – this is not a documentary. But
when you choose to make a film on a theme about which there is such widespread
ignorance, you need to find ways to disseminate correct information without
sounding like a PhD thesis.
These questionable portions in Njan Marykkutty do not, however, eclipse
its over-arching inspirational spirit. The fulcrum of the film is Jayasurya’s
interpretation of Marykkutty shorn of all tropes that have been seen as a
compulsory aspect of LGBT+ individuals by most Indian filmmakers and actors,
with a few exceptions. Don’t come looking for a limp wrist, over-the-top camp
mannerisms, swivelling hips and a high-pitched voice here – this is not to say
that trans persons with such characteristics do not exist, but that there are
different kinds of trans persons and Indian cinema has rarely acknowledged that
fact.
The only overt changes Sankar and
Jayasurya make involve a visible touch of makeup, a switch to saris and
blossoming breasts – the rest is barely discernible. Arun Manohar and Saritha
Jayasurya are credited for the film’s costumes, and Saritha reportedly designed the endless array of gorgeous cotton saris that Marykkutty wears. Her wardrobe
too defies Indian cinema’s stereotypes of trans persons.
Jayasurya’s sensitive portrayal
of Marykkutty sans caricature is on a par with Sanchari Vijay’s National
Award-winning turn in 2015’s Kannada release Naanu Avanalla…Avalu (I Am Not He, I Am She). As he did with the
relatively ordinary Captain recently,
here too he has shown his determination to be an actor rather than a star in
his roles.
The most credible aspect of
Sankar’s powerful screenplay is the equation between a transphobic policeman
(Joju George) and Marykkutty. The defining passage in Njan Marykkutty comes when that cop takes sides in a fight between
the heroine and some hooligans. The manner in which he, his colleagues and
those goons manufacture a series of believable lies playing on prevalent biases
against transsexuals and women is chilling.
It is interesting that through her
struggles Marykkutty seeks refuge with a
woman friend (Jewel Mary) who herself is widely reviled for her
non-conformist life. Although the characterisation of a friendly RJ (Aju
Varghese) is briefly confusing – creep or nice guy? – and Siddhartha Siva’s
acting when his character flirts with Marykkutty borders on comedy that is
incongruous in the kind of film this one clearly wants to be, it is interesting
too that Sankar does not see a romantic relationship with a man as essential to
complete a trans woman. Self-realisation and the acceptance of the self are far
more important than the approval of others, even our loved ones, Njan Marykkutty tells us.
Barring Siva and Venjaramoodu,
who does not quite pull off his nice-guy act here, the rest of the supporting
cast do a good job of their roles, big and small.
Though the film’s background
score gets mushy and over-emphatic at times, the camera’s relaxed gaze on
Jayasurya is crucial to viewing Marykkutty as a regular person. Not once does
DoP Vishnu Narayanan objectify or exoticise this unconventional lead.
This then is Ranjith Sankar’s
great achievement here: that he sees Marykkutty not just as a trans person, but
as a person. Jayasurya’s unaffected performance in Njan Marykkutty is a landmark not just for his career or Malayalam
cinema, but for Indian cinema at large.
Rating
(out of five stars): ***1/2
CBFC Rating (India):
|
U
|
Running time:
|
126 minutes
|
This review has also been published on Firstpost:
Visuals courtesy: https://www.facebook.com/NjanMaryKutty/
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