Kerala Cinema Offers a Subtle View of India

It’s an Indian movie with no singing or dancing. The lovers didn’t exchange a single word, their main interaction being fleeting eye contact in the monsoon rain. There are no car chases or action stunts. Men are vulnerable. they cry

Still, Karthal The Core, a Malayalam film about a reclusive middle-aged politician, was released last month to critical as well as commercial success. Cinemas in the southern state of Kerala, home to the Malayalam film industry and home to about 35 million people, were filled to capacity. One of South India’s biggest stars took on the role of a gay man and portrayed him in such a sensitive way that it started a buzz far beyond Kerala.

Outside of India, the country’s films are often equated with the glamor and hustle and bustle of Bollywood, the dominant Hindi film industry. But this vast country of 1.4 billion people is home to many regional industries whose styles are as unique as their languages. ‘Kaathal’ is the latest example of what Malayalam cinema has become known for. It’s a low-budget, sensitive, progressive story with real human drama.

What sets it apart from other regional theaters, observers say, is that it has found an unusual balance. Increasingly, audiences in Kerala are flocking to these humble Malayalam stories about everyday people as much as the adrenaline-filled blockbusters often imported from other parts of India. I am.

The result has been commercial success for modest films that elsewhere would be considered experimental and often relegated to the festival circuit or sent straight to streaming platforms.

“We have a great audience here,” said Geo Baby, director of “Cartals.” “The same audiences that create success for popular films also create success for smaller films and comedies.”

The sensitive storytelling of Malayalam films has gained more exposure in the post-Covid era. The rapid expansion of streaming services in India that began with the pandemic and the competition for new content has created scope for regional films to find domestic and global audiences.

Bollywood also initially struggled to bring audiences back to theaters after the coronavirus outbreak. High-grossing movies these days mostly rely on well-worn storylines, injected with more violence, increasingly sophisticated visual effects, and heavy doses of populism and propaganda. Bollywood remains dominated by superstars, and an environment of censorship and self-censorship prevails.

“There are a lot more interventions out there,” said Swapna Gopinath, professor of film culture studies at Pune’s Symbiotic Media and Communication Institute. “That makes it difficult for independent films to thrive.”

Until very recently, Malayalam films were no exception, Ms. Gopinath said. The films featured big-name actors and recycled storylines that often celebrated traditional, patriarchal values.

But things changed about a decade ago after several boundary-pushing films by young directors became popular. This confirms that viewers in the state of Kerala, which leads in terms of living standards in India, are receptive to experimental and nuanced content.

“From there, The cinematic landscape has changed as far as Malayalam films are concerned,” Gopinath said. “We started making films that talked about gender and caste.”

A recent survey of Malayalam films by consulting firm Ormax Media found that three-quarters of them are small-town dramas whose protagonists are ordinary people rather than extraordinary heroes. The themes are often modest and local. For example, the messy politics of widening a road in a small village when everyone has a vested interest, or the priest of a new chapel haunted by the space’s history as a soft-porn film.

Mr Baby, who directed Kartal, is known for focusing on things that go unnoticed in everyday life. He first gained wide recognition two years ago with The Great Indian Kitchen, his meditation on the ravages of misogyny in his family.

When the writers of Kartal approached him with a story about a hidden homosexual struggle, the director could only think of one actor for the role, a 72-year-old with a huge following in Kerala. ‘s star Mammootty, he said.

He plays Matthew Devacy, a retired, married banker with a daughter in college. As he prepares to stand in the village elections, his wife, played by actress Jyothika, tells him that he is gay and secretly has a male lover, as she has known throughout her marriage that he is gay and secretly has a male lover. , she files for divorce. Although the film includes courtroom scenes, the focus is on the silence of the family, the rumors circulating in the village, and Matthew’s inner turmoil.

Mammootty’s decision to star in and produce ‘Kaasal’ helped the film and its subject matter gain public attention, Baby said.

India decriminalized homosexuality just five years ago, and the Supreme Court recently rejected a challenge to legalize same-sex marriage, but said same-sex relationships should be respected.

Jijo Kuriakose, an artist and activist from Kochi, Kerala, said Karthar had been sensitive to the social pressures that force many gay men in India to live parallel lives.

He said he almost married a woman about 10 years ago, but came out to his family on the night of their engagement. His parents still encourage him to marry a woman.

“‘Okay, I understand you’re gay, but marry a woman,’ has been the standard response for many years,” Mr. Kuriakose said.

The film sparked a lot of debate in and outside of Kerala about how caste, class, gender and religion influence the characters’ choices. Poet and translator Sreeratha Nerli, who recently ended her secret marriage to a gay man, said the film hit particularly close to home.

“I loved the look on your face, always confused and almost scared,” Neri wrote to Mammootty and Baby in an open letter. “You understood and embodied this man.”

But while Nerli praised the film for giving “a voice to the voiceless,” she said it made her coming out process seem faster and easier than it actually was. After her husband told her the truth, another 15 years passed before she told her entire family, she said.

“15 years ago, the moment he came out to me, I went into the closet with him,” she wrote.

For Kuriakose, this subtle Malayalam film was perhaps too subtle at times. He was disappointed that the film did not depict any intimacy between the men and that their story was not given a beginning, unlike the heterosexual romances in most Indian films. At no point in the movie do we know how the two men met.

“Some people really enjoyed the subtlety of the expressions,” Kuriakose said. “I’m a loud voice, so I love seeing ‘not subtle’ expressions.”

Deepa Kurien contributed reporting.