When badass is the norm

Nonika Singh

When the liberated unfettered lass first appeared on the  screen, she enraptured us like a breath of fresh air. Today the Pikus and Tanus are under a serious threat of becoming formulaic

She smokes, she drinks and she has premarital sex. Not too long ago, these were the quintessential attributes of the anti-heroine in the Indian film industry. Circa 21st century, and these are no longer vices, certainly not on screen. Rather these are qualities, if not virtues, our mainstream heroines have slowly but surely begun to possess. If outdated notions such as virginity as a must-have attribute of the heroine were nudged out, films like Piku, Manmarziyaan have nailed and buried the pure and pious coffin further.

Spitfire Rumi of Anurag Kashyap’s Manmarziyaan talks about condoms without batting an eyelid, has sex with her boyfriend in her own house while her cousin holds guard. Meet the new bindaas heroine, badass if you wish, who has no scruples about being scrupulous. Ever since Anand L Rai gave us irrepressible and irreverent Tanu in Tanu Weds Manu, a new mould of heroine has been discovered.

Once upon a time she would wait for her prince charming to rescue her out of difficult situations. Today, the damsel-in-distress model stands knocked out. In more than one film, even in big ticket masala films, heroines are kicking up some serious high-octane action too. She has muscle, she has power and above all she has a mind of her own.

In short, the heroine is born again, anew and new rules of femininity have been invented. Only as with all inventions, this one too is in imminent danger of being stereotyped. When the liberated unfettered lass first appeared on the screen, she enraptured us like a breath of fresh air. Today the Pikus and Tanus are under a serious threat of becoming formulaic. With a little tweaking here and there, the heroine is once again being presented in limited ways. So every time filmmakers want to show a girl in sync with modern milieu, they show her as a firebrand who cares two hoots about not just society but even significant others. Furthermore, place a cigarette between her fingers, a drink in her hands and makers have a recipe ready for the new-age emancipated woman.

But before we can shout eureka and cheer for her new-found liberation in reel life, we do need to ask is she really a trailblazer or a rebel without a cause? Aahana Kumra, the bold and brazen Leela of Lipstick Under My Burkha, is not surprised by the manner in which the new type is evolving. Says she, “Our film industry believes in herd mentality and follows trends mindlessly. Instead of exploring new characters with newer shades, filmmakers find it easy to repeat the existing workable formula. Frankly, it’s lazy writing at work.”

National Award-winning actor Divya Dutta doesn’t quite think that the new image of heroine is an archetype. She insists that ever since avant-garde filmmakers have moved away from the black and white binaries of the past, we are seeing more flawed characters. This applies to representation of heroines too who are no longer caught in the virtuous time warp of yesteryear.

Come to think of it, she reminds how similar characters were etched in the past, too, and cites instances of movies like Raat Aur Din and Chetna.

“But back then”, she insists, “society was not so accepting of such roles. But today films like Veere Di Wedding, showcasing the irreverent girlie gang of four, gets a resounding thumbs up.” Indeed, she nods that freedom needn’t be synonymous with a few in your face traits alone. Yet she roots for films like Bareilly Ki Barfi where father-daughter duo has such an open and free relationship that the father has no compunctions in even sharing a smoke with his Bitti.

Actor Kubra Sait adds, “As long as the narrative feels real and honest, one can’t find fault in the portrayal. Relatable parts that generate empathy and have that touch of vulnerability and are not created for shock value are only fair game. It would be unfair to dub them otherwise.” Producer Rahul Mittra who consciously decided to give us a scheming vixen in Saheb Biwi Aur Gangster series agrees that outward trappings alone are no indicator of women’s inherent strength.

He argues, “Even if I were to concede that we are once again falling into the trap of creating a new formula, there is no denying that this new image is any day better than the typical misogynist representation of women. From a hapless cardboard cut-out where she would scream ‘bhagwan ke liye mujhe chod do’ to one taking control of her life, it is a welcome change.” In short, a fiercely independent woman wins over the subjugated caricature any day.

Certainly, cinema could do with better and more nuanced etchings. Mittra agrees that often filmmakers try too hard to impress upon how the new heroine is in control of her life. There are zillion ways to show her as a woman of myriad shades, of substance, courage and strength. Aahana, however, feels that would happen only if we have more women writers and directors in the industry. As of now there are only a handful, and yet filmmakers like Meghna Gulzar give you Sehmat of Raazi, a mixed bag of emotions from courage to fear to sensitivity. Indeed, as Hollywood star Jessica Chastain says; “Femininity is not weakness.” But nor should it swing to the other extreme and become a byword for shouting from the rooftop.

New rulebook should just let women be… with no value judgments and no unwarranted add-ons.