Language: Malayalam
The three-part anthology Aanum Pennum (Man and Woman) has been in the news ever since a photo of Parvathy Thiruvothu on the sets went viral on social media last year. The picture set the Internet ablaze with the implications of the casting – a light-skinned woman playing a character that had been conceived as decidedly dark-skinned by writer Uroob. This question is just one of many that come to mind after watching Aanum Pennum that is now streaming online.
Presented by cinematographer-director Rajeev Ravi, Aanum Pennum is a compilation of short stories on evolving man-woman relationships.
The first short in the triad is Savithri, set in the years right after Independence when Communists were being hunted down by the establishment. It is helmed by Jay K. who earlier directed the thriller Ezra (2017). Savithri is “inspired from true events”, as text on screen tells us, and written by Santhosh Echikkanam.
The heroine of this tale is on the run from the police when a well-off family mistakes her for their new domestic help. Kochu Paaru (Samyuktha Menon), as she is called, catches the eye of the men in the house including the lecherous Raghava Pilla (Joju George). His unwanted sexual advances are not, as it turns out, her only problem.
Next comes Rachiyamma starring Parvathy as the titular lead, with Asif Ali playing Kuttikrishnan who returns after 11 years to the mountains where they first met and fell in love. Rachiyamma owns some cattle and supplies milk to homes nearby. She is a tough, financially independent single woman living on her own.
Rachiyamma is based on a short story by the legendary Uroob. Its screenplay, camerawork and direction are by veteran cinematographer Venu whose earlier forays into direction yielded the unconventional and intriguing Munnariyippu and Carbon.
The third film of the collection, Rani, is based on a short story by the popular contemporary writer, Unni R. Rani is directed by another veteran, Aashiq Abu (Mayaanadhi, Virus). Darshana Rajendran here plays the protagonist whose boyfriend (Roshan Mathew) is anxious to have sex with her, but in a place where they will not be found out by his family and community. She is indifferent to what others think.
In each of these shorts, the woman at the centre of the plot is presented as one who flouts gender-related conventions. This is a well-meant project, but the writers and directors of two of the shorts betray a confused male gaze on female strength.
Jay K. creates an effectively ominous atmosphere in the household where Kochu Paaru takes refuge in Savithri. The plot that unfolds is not half as exciting though.
(Spoiler alert for this paragraph and the next one) The portrayal of a woman’s sexual agency in this short is muddled. In addition to the power differential between men and women that is intrinsic to patriarchy, if a class divide and an employer-employee equation are involved, the notion of consent in a sexual relationship becomes complex. When a woman in a vulnerable position is pressured by a man to sleep with him, the exploitation is obvious. In the same circumstances, if she seemingly willingly sleeps with a non-aggressive man, it still needs to be asked what her fate would have been if she had not done so.
It does not help that the man in the latter case in Savithri is shown to be a nice sort of chap, such that when she is brusque with him in the end, it almost feels unfair. The film seems to suggest that her potential rape by a creep is one side of a coin, the other side of which is her willingness to use her body as a weapon when needed. If this is indeed the intent, it is simplistic and problematic to say the least. (Spoiler alert ends)
The definition of sexual agency in Rani too is driven by a stereotype of feminine strength that is prevalent among liberal Indian men today. The protagonist of this short – the only contemporary one of the three – is not bothered by what people might think about her relationship with the male lead, but he is afraid of what people will say. Of course it is lovely that she does not care, but her defiance is portrayed in this film without any reference to context, that context being that in conservative societies, women are shamed for being sexually active in ways that men are never. Rani’s treatment of an unorthodox woman is superficial and the storytelling is largely bland.
The twist in the end featuring a delightful Nedumudi Venu and Kaviyoor Ponnamma is entertaining but mindless. Without giving spoilers I can say that in a literal sense, the woman lead’s reaction – in a situation that in the real world would have been dangerous for her – suggests the writer’s inadequate grasp of women’s reality.
Between these two shorts comes Aanum Pennum’s controversial middle. Parvathy had reacted to naysayers last year by saying that she would not play a character based on a true story if the person in question was dark-complexioned in real life, “but when it comes to a fictional space and when the thing is about adaptation it is a big tricky space”. Why the actor has somehow been held more accountable for this casting choice than the director calls for a separate conversation.
The problem with the line taken by Parvathy is that in Uroob’s Rachiyamma, the central figure’s dark skin is her defining physical characteristic. The issue therefore is why Venu did not pick an actor who matched that description and why Malayalam cinema – and audiences – rarely give stardom to women of dark colour.
This argument is not to be taken literally for all physical attributes of fictional literary characters being transported to cinema. This particular attribute is important because a dark complexion is viewed with contempt in Indian society, and actors who are not light-skinned, especially women, get limited work opportunities as a consequence.
The gender discrimination within colourism is underlined by the recruitment of Asif Ali to play Kuttikrishnan. In a memorable image of the couple holding hands while seated on a massive high-altitude rock formation, when the camera closes in on their hands, it is impossible not to note that Mollywood accommodates a dark-skinned, sweet-faced Asif, but the standard of beauty for women remains vella niram (white complexion) or at a minimum, what in Indian parlance is labelled “wheatish”.
This debate is necessary even though Parvathy is in top form in Rachiyamma, which is the best short in Aanum Pennum. She switches from sprightly to subdued with chameleon-like smoothness, and convincingly embodies rebellion in an era when such rebellion was tolerated far less than it is today. Her acting, her chemistry with Asif, her character’s fearlessness and the spectacular cinematography hold up this short even when it tweaks the source material at one point in a self-defeating manner.
(Spoiler alert for the next two paragraphs) In Uroob’s story, Rachiyamma and Kuttikrishnan (the writer’s real name) part ways because of her sexual conservatism since she took a vow during a difficult phase in her life to “never stray”. After he leaves the place, she changes her mind about her resolution, acknowledging what she comes to realise is a human need. Her account of this change of heart suggests that she no longer saw virtue in her earlier choice. Obviously her bodily autonomy disregarded the moral code imposed on women of Kuttikrishnan/Uroob’s and her time, which makes it revolutionary. Kuttikrishnan was not around by then though and seeking him out was perhaps not an option for a woman in those days, so she lived in the hope that one day he would return.
Despite an occasional romanticisation of womanhood in the original story, Rachiyamma – the film and the story – are remarkably progressive even for modern times in the sense that even after giving up her vow, the heroine does not see herself as incomplete without a man. She wanted to be with Kuttikrishnan because he meant something to her but when she could not have him, she did not feel compelled to replace him with another man or for that matter to get married. (Spoiler alert ends)
Aanum Pennum peaks with Parvathy’s pizzazz as Rachiyamma. The other two films have their moments, but not enough. Considering the collective megawattage of the talent in its credits, this anthology is a disappointment.
Rating: 2.5 (out of 5 stars)
Aanum Pennum is now streaming on Amazon Prime Video, Neestream and Koode
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