South India's film industries are on the cusp of their #MeToo moment

Women in South India's film industries are speaking up and banding together to protest decades of rampant discrimination and abuse

In a television interview recently, the BFFs with Vogue host Neha Dhupia asked her guests, actors Rajkummar Rao and Radhika Apte, to talk about “bizarre jobs” they did early in their careers. Rao talked about doing bit parts in commercials. Apte said, “I did South Indian films. They pay you well, but you b****y deserve it.”

The conversation then veered towards gender inequality, particularly in South Indian cinema. She recounted how, on her first day on the sets of a Telugu film, the actor, a man she didn’t know well, started tickling her feet when she was lying down for a scene. 

“I snapped at him in front of everybody and told him, ‘Don’t ever, ever do that to me’,” recalled Apte. “I had been told earlier he was a big actor. He was so shocked because he didn’t expect that. I wouldn’t generalise but there are a few like that and these men are extremely powerful.”  

Apte is to be credited for speaking her mind. But the conversation about the severe power imbalances in India’s film industries owes Sri Reddy Mallidi a huge debt. A few weeks ago, the news reader-turned-actor partially stripped in front of the Telugu Film Chamber of Commerce in Hyderabad. She then sat cross-legged on the ground, covering her bare chest with her arms. A few short interviews later, the police whisked her away. 

But, says Mallidi, “This was not something I did suddenly.” For close to two months before her sensational protest, the three-film-old actor had been trying to address issues regarding the casting couch in the Telugu film industry. “Men have asked me to sleep with them in exchange for roles and I’ve done it. But not a single role has come out of that. Wherever I go they seem to be demanding sexual favours. It’s a pattern. I started naming the people and that’s when the media stopped covering my protest,” she says. “I had to do something more than talk. I stirred the hornet’s nest.”

The strip protest, meant to shock people into taking notice, had its effect. Not unsurprisingly, many remain conflicted about Mallidi’s actions, some dismissing her act as nothing more than a publicity stunt. The grounding thought: Mallidi wasn’t forced to grant sexual favours; it was consensual. 

But, as award-winning veteran film editor Bina Paul points out, “consent” can be a slippery slope considering the power equations in play. “You may know that a particular man or woman is desperate to get something out of you and you leverage yourself accordingly. Consent is not easily defined,” she says. The fact that Mallidi had to strip to draw attention to her point is unfortunate, but what’s even more alarming is the “deafness on the other side”. “She seems to have had to prove her stand. We’ve been fighting this thinking forever — it should not be for the victim to prove she’s innocent,” continues Paul, adding how this dissuades many from taking a stand. 

To take on gender-based issues in the industry, women from the Malayalam film industry got together to form the Women in Cinema Collective last May

“Sri Reddy has got a bit of support, but she is largely seen as a fringe player in the larger scheme of things,” observes Baradwaj Rangan, film critic and editor of Film Companion (South), a digital platform for cinema news, explaining why people have divided opinions on her actions. But one thing everyone is unanimous on is the “hugely patriarchal and misogynistic nature of the film industries”.

One of the clearest perspectives was provided when award-winning actor Parvathy brought up scenes from Malayalam superstar Mammootty’s film Kasaba during a panel discussion in December. She spoke about how it was disappointing to see “a great actor spitting totally misogynistic dialogues”. Following this comment, she was subjected to relentless online abuse and threats. “It was quite disheartening to see the reactions that came in when she spoke against misogyny in cinema,” says Rangan.

 

Power is an enormous part of the equation that drives the film industry. The underlying assumption is that no woman would want her “good name” sullied, hence assuring that the circle of silence remains unbroken. 

Many who’ve worked across the industry — in Bollywood as well as in regional cinema — remark that the greater number of women in Hindi cinema automatically makes it a more friendly space. Here’s a sample of the skewed numbers in regional cinema: when choreographer Vaishaly Subramanian went to visit Tamil actor-director Revathy on the sets of a television show recently, there were 98 men present. Revathy and her touch-up artiste were the only two women.  

In a strange, roundabout way, Bollywood with its propensity for nepotism has developed a security blanket of sorts. The story goes that, in the 1970s, Bollywood legend Rekha was forced into an unexpected kissing scene during the shoot for Do Shikaari. The kiss went on for minutes before the director called “cut”. Decades later, Bollywood is now peopled with the privileged, educated and aware children and grandchildren of erstwhile stars — pulling a similar stunt with them would result in serious blowback. 

Harassment and abuse of power take many forms, and what also keeps it all conveniently wrapped up is the lack of norms in show business: there are, for instance, no punch in-punch out cards to keep track of actors’ or workers’ whereabouts.

And, on an outdoor shoot, only the stars are likely to enjoy any degree of privacy; back-up dancers or “extras” may have to slip in and out of costumes behind trees. “Sometimes, there aren’t even provisions for toilets. Stars have caravans, but what about junior artistes?” asks Subramanian. 



Markers of how the industry differentiates between men and women are to be found in the details: Apte remembers being called on the sets of the Telugu film almost two hours before her male co-stars. “Male actors are asked for their creative inputs on posters and teasers but there seems to be a belief that female actors can’t contribute creatively,” says Parul Yadav, an actor known for her work in the Kannada industry. “It’s bizarre when I am just given dates for shoots while male leads are asked about their availability.”

The situation behind the scenes is as unedifying. It has taken women like make-up artiste Bhanu Bashyam years to build their careers. When she started out in the Tamil film industry, for instance, women were expected to limit their roles to hairdressing fixes. After years of being sidelined, Bashyam is now sought after: her recent projects include working with Rajinikanth for Sivaji.

To take on gender-based issues in the industry, women from the Malayalam film industry got together to form the Women in Cinema Collective last May. Putting up a united front to fight patriarchy had long been a need in the industry, says Sajitha Madathil, film and theatre actor, and member of the collective. The trigger for the joint action was the abduction and assault of an actor, allegedly on the instructions of a male colleague, the popular actor known as Dileep. But our heroes, all larger than life, rarely seem to fall from grace. Dileep’s fans rejoiced when he was released on bail, and the Film Exhibitors United Organisation of Kerala, too, wanted him back as president. 

The call to action, both through solitary and group protests, has begun to take shape. A year after the collective was formed, the women in Kerala have managed to rekindle the Hema Commission that Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan had announced after they petitioned him. The committee’s primary objective is to study the film industry up close and identify problems. 

In Hyderabad, following Mallidi’s actions, the Telangana government has also issued notices about setting up a committee to look into sexual harassment. Instructions have been issued to industry unions to ensure that artistes have access to changing room facilities, and that auditions take place in the presence of at least one other person.

On May 1, Chennai too saw the beginning of change: some 80 women came together to join the South Indian Film Women’s Association. The idea is to look out for the women in the industry, says Subramanian, the association’s president. 

Steps towards making the industry more sensitive towards women include setting up proper redressal mechanisms for complaints, and helping people understand appropriate workplace behaviour, says Padmapriya Janakiraman. Better known by her first name, Padmapriya is an accomplished dancer and an award-winning actor who was seen with Saif Ali Khan in Chef. She is also one of the core members of the Women in Cinema Collective along with Paul. Besides legal seminars, says Padmapriya, one of the objectives of the group is also to help people understand how onscreen portrayal of women can go a long way in re-conditioning society.

Rangan points out how actor Nayanthara’s work in Tamil cinema is part of this much-needed change. In Aramm, for instance, she plays the role of a collector who rustles up rescue operations after a girl falls into a borewell. “Even though these are small-budget movies, she’s at the centre of the movie, like Alia Bhatt is in Raazi. I see this as a major step with the industry accepting her as someone who can headline a film. That’s huge,” he says.  

But in an industry dominated by macho heroes, making a woman-oriented film can be tricky. When Parul Yadav, after being floored by the story and lead character in Kangana Ranaut-starrer Queen, wanted to remake the movie in Kannada, she found no takers. She’d be crazy to do a movie like Queen, a well-wisher told her: “If you do a role like this, no big hero will want to act opposite you.” Yadav kept pushing, till she found people ready to back her. (Queen is now officially being remade in Kannada with Yadav who is also co-producing the film’s remake in Tamil, Telugu and Malayalam.)

“None of the top actors wanted to play the male lead in the remake. But women actors are fine playing second fiddle onscreen,” says Yadav. “There’s an assumption that if a woman dominates the box office, big heroes don’t want to work with her.” 

But, like power, money talks. As Padmapriya puts it, “I have not come across a producer who won’t make a female-oriented movie if it makes him money. It’s just that the industry is dominated by men so it can be difficult.” Having more women in the industry could make the place more sensitive, safer and also ensure women are seen in roles where they are more than a pretty prop for the hero’s story. 

There’s really been no precedents for all the things happening in the industry, says Revathy. “We are also learning how to deal with it all and we can only hope these committees and collectives work,” she says. But one thing she’s sure of is that women in the industry have become much bolder. “They are ready to put their foot down and say, ‘Enough is enough.’” It’s the only way to set right the lopsided equations of power. The conversation has begun.