Director: Aniruddha Chowdhury
Cast: Taapsee Pannu, Amitabh Bachchan, Andrea Tariang, Kirti Kulhari, Angad Bedi
You’d really have to be cold, cynical, and possibly living in denial if you aren’t deeply affected by Pink. This powerful film, directed by Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury and produced by Shoojit Sircar, is a stinging indictment of the deep-set prejudices, unmistakable misogyny, misplaced male entitlement, and outright injustice that women across India must contend with daily, and particularly when protesting against unwanted sexual attention.
When a woman says no, it means no. It doesn’t matter how she’s dressed, whether she’s had a drink or two, whether she was flirting with the man earlier, and irrespective of her sexual history. The filmmakers drive home this point with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer, and Pink is all the better for it.
In a smart storytelling move, we never actually see the incident that sparks off the chain of events in this film (not until the end credits, to be fair). We must rely on the snatches of conversations, accusations, and confessions made during the course of the film to piece together what may have taken place at a Surajkund resort one late evening between three young women who escaped to their south Delhi home visibly rattled, and three men raging with fury, one of whom is seriously injured.
The women in question – Meenal (Tapsee Pannu), Falak (Kirti Kulhari), and, as she’s routinely described, “the one from the North East”, Andrea (Andrea Tariang) – are what our society tends to describe as “modern, independent types”, which, as we know, is shorthand for educated, working women who wear dresses and shorts, may smoke and/or drink, and who hang out with male friends. That these “modern independent types” are automatically perceived as promiscuous and of loose moral character, therefore themselves responsible for triggering aggressive sexual behavior in men, is one of the many harsh realities that the film confronts head on.
0 Comments