<p class="title">Actor Upendra’s usage of a derogatory proverb about Dalits has triggered a controversy that is now reverberating beyond the film industry. At a time when south Indian cinema has been explicitly exploring the lives of Dalits and their problems, raising questions about the need for social sensitivity, through Dalit representation in films. </p>.<p class="title">The rise in the representation of Dalits in south Indian cinema over the past decade signals inclusivity in the popular art form. In Tamil cinema, especially, ‘Dalithood’ is now a model for mainstream cinema. The narratives of Dalithood, shaped by filmmakers such as Pa Ranjith, Mari Selvaraj and Vetrimaran, will no doubt rule Tamil cinema for the next few years. </p>.<p class="bodytext">These films don’t just serve as mere entertainment, but also impact the way of life of the Dalits. Films like ‘Mammannan’ (2023), ‘Asuran’ (2019), ‘Karnan’ (2021) and ‘Jai Bhim’ (2021) throw light on the lives of Dalits and where they stand in society. The protagonists may or may not change the lives of Dalits in a profound way, but the self-confidence they showcase is likely to have a positive effect on their lives. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Stories about Dalits and their conflicts are prominently seen in south Indian cinema. In the latest Tamil film ‘Maamannan’ (directed by Mari Selvaraj), the titular character is more prominent than the ‘hero’ Athiveeran. Referred to as ‘soil’ in the film, he is not given an ounce of respect and is expected to sit on the ground when he is in the presence of a local politician’s son. He finally has to take the political route to get the dignity he deserves, and sit on a chair. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Kabilan, the protagonist in Pa Ranjith’s ‘Sarapatta Parambarai’ (2021, Tamil), faces many upheavals in his personal life. In his fight with the system, he faces situations that undermine his dignity. Regardless of the obstacles, he works towards victory. Although his journey may look like a personal battle, it is also a battle for his community. </p>.<p class="CrossHead"><span class="bold">‘Personal, political’</span></p>.<p class="bodytext">A slogan used in the women’s movement, ‘The personal is political’, is true of the Dalit movement too. All personal struggles of Dalit protagonists are political. Characters like Karnan from ‘Karnan’ , Sivakasi from ‘Asuran’, Ponni from ‘Saani Kaayidham’ (2022), Perumal from ‘Viduthalai’ (2023), and Mohan from ‘Palasa 1978’ (2020), inevitably choose the violent path. The circumstances show that violence appears to be their only alternative. While resistance against the system feels like a personal struggle in real life, in films, they take the shape of community resistance.</p>.<p class="bodytext">In the Kannada film ‘Kantara’ (2022), Shiva boldly walks across the threshold of the landlord’s house, and sits across him at the dining table to challenge him, but he finally turns into a <span class="italic">daiva </span>to fight the system. This is also the limitation of the film. There is violence here but it is not caused by humans. Towards the end, justice is served because the characters fear a superhuman (daiva) power. In the Telugu film, ‘Love Story’ (2021), the protagonist Revanth trying to run away from the system, turns rebellious. But Narasimhan’s accidental death towards the end doesn’t justify his ‘chosen’ path of violence. </p>.<p class="bodytext">The characters that stand apart from such narratives are Mamannan from ‘Mamannan’, Pariyan in ‘Pariyerum Perumal’ (2018) and Krishnan and Ganga from the Malayalam film ‘Kammatti Paadam’ (2016). Mari Selvaraj stands out because his characters strive to find new resolutions to political challenges, and desire harmony. Rajeev Ravi’s characterisation of Krishnan in ‘Kammatti Paadam’ indicates that he is looking for such a distinct path. </p>.<p class="bodytext">All that Pariyan from Pariyerum Perumal hopes for is to see the privileged and underprivileged communities walk together as equals — it is a humane and emotional desire. But it is Mamannan who grabs political power and finds the opportunity to fulfil such a desire.</p>.<p class="CrossHead"><span class="bold">Legal battles</span></p>.<p class="bodytext">As films based on violent struggles gained prominence, films on Dalithood attempted a new approach: to embody the aspirations of the Constitution. In the Tamil film ‘Jai Bhim,’ directed by T J Gnanavel, although advocate Chandru plays the protagonist, the oppressed woman Sengeni comes across as the main character. Chandru’s role is to fight for the rights of Sengini. The oppression of tribals is addressed in Mansore’s ‘19.20.21’ (2023, Kannada). Although the film shows violence, the journey towards a legal struggle forms the main plot. Manju and his father, who wage a legal battle for years, finally emerge victorious. The ‘saviour’ narrative seen in ‘Jai Bhim’ is evident in this film too. </p>.<p class="bodytext">In ‘Ka Pae Ranasingam’ (2020, Tamil), directed by P Virumaandi, Ranasingam’s wife Ariyanachi appears as the real protagonist. Women characters Ariyanachi, Ponni and Sengini are given more prominence. In most films cited here, the Dalit ‘heroes’ take refuge under ‘heroism’. Although there is ample scope to extend female roles, a limit seems to have been set. </p>.<p class="bodytext">In Kannada cinema, there is a reluctance to include Dalit narratives. In the films of Soori, ‘Duniya’ (2007) and ‘Junglee’ (2009), although the main characters are Dalits, their characterisation is not fully realised. The Dalithood of Soori’s characters is lost in the shadows of orphanhood and poverty. The same problem persists in the recent film ‘Photo’ by Utsav Gonwar. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Many Kannada films follow protagonists migrating from the villages to the cities in search of a livelihood. Most narratives, instead of representing their Dalithood, show them as transitioning from poverty to rowdyism. This is the biggest shortcoming in the Kannada film industry. Films having themes of Dalithood, like the recent ‘Paalar’, did not get enough theatres. This is also the reason why producers hesitate to invest in such films. Although the Malayalam industry has been producing experimental storylines with distinct themes, there hasn’t been a popular Dalit film after ‘Kammati Padam’. </p>.<p class="bodytext">If south Indian films that enjoyed pan Indian appeal — ‘Pushpa: The Rise’ and ‘KGF Chapters 1 and 2’ — had shades of Dalithood, how would the world have responded to them? In Pushpa, the idea of ‘purity of blood’ is crammed into the narrative. A similar narrative is seen in ‘KGF’ as well. </p>.<p class="bodytext">In all the films mentioned here, the struggles lead to victory. This is a positive element that one must take note of. The characters remain unscathed. That is why their audiences experience a mix of emotions: sadness, courage, anger and relief. </p>.<p class="bodytext"><span class="italic">(The writer is a Kannada author) <br />(Translated from Kannada by Pranati A S)</span></p>
<p class="title">Actor Upendra’s usage of a derogatory proverb about Dalits has triggered a controversy that is now reverberating beyond the film industry. At a time when south Indian cinema has been explicitly exploring the lives of Dalits and their problems, raising questions about the need for social sensitivity, through Dalit representation in films. </p>.<p class="title">The rise in the representation of Dalits in south Indian cinema over the past decade signals inclusivity in the popular art form. In Tamil cinema, especially, ‘Dalithood’ is now a model for mainstream cinema. The narratives of Dalithood, shaped by filmmakers such as Pa Ranjith, Mari Selvaraj and Vetrimaran, will no doubt rule Tamil cinema for the next few years. </p>.<p class="bodytext">These films don’t just serve as mere entertainment, but also impact the way of life of the Dalits. Films like ‘Mammannan’ (2023), ‘Asuran’ (2019), ‘Karnan’ (2021) and ‘Jai Bhim’ (2021) throw light on the lives of Dalits and where they stand in society. The protagonists may or may not change the lives of Dalits in a profound way, but the self-confidence they showcase is likely to have a positive effect on their lives. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Stories about Dalits and their conflicts are prominently seen in south Indian cinema. In the latest Tamil film ‘Maamannan’ (directed by Mari Selvaraj), the titular character is more prominent than the ‘hero’ Athiveeran. Referred to as ‘soil’ in the film, he is not given an ounce of respect and is expected to sit on the ground when he is in the presence of a local politician’s son. He finally has to take the political route to get the dignity he deserves, and sit on a chair. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Kabilan, the protagonist in Pa Ranjith’s ‘Sarapatta Parambarai’ (2021, Tamil), faces many upheavals in his personal life. In his fight with the system, he faces situations that undermine his dignity. Regardless of the obstacles, he works towards victory. Although his journey may look like a personal battle, it is also a battle for his community. </p>.<p class="CrossHead"><span class="bold">‘Personal, political’</span></p>.<p class="bodytext">A slogan used in the women’s movement, ‘The personal is political’, is true of the Dalit movement too. All personal struggles of Dalit protagonists are political. Characters like Karnan from ‘Karnan’ , Sivakasi from ‘Asuran’, Ponni from ‘Saani Kaayidham’ (2022), Perumal from ‘Viduthalai’ (2023), and Mohan from ‘Palasa 1978’ (2020), inevitably choose the violent path. The circumstances show that violence appears to be their only alternative. While resistance against the system feels like a personal struggle in real life, in films, they take the shape of community resistance.</p>.<p class="bodytext">In the Kannada film ‘Kantara’ (2022), Shiva boldly walks across the threshold of the landlord’s house, and sits across him at the dining table to challenge him, but he finally turns into a <span class="italic">daiva </span>to fight the system. This is also the limitation of the film. There is violence here but it is not caused by humans. Towards the end, justice is served because the characters fear a superhuman (daiva) power. In the Telugu film, ‘Love Story’ (2021), the protagonist Revanth trying to run away from the system, turns rebellious. But Narasimhan’s accidental death towards the end doesn’t justify his ‘chosen’ path of violence. </p>.<p class="bodytext">The characters that stand apart from such narratives are Mamannan from ‘Mamannan’, Pariyan in ‘Pariyerum Perumal’ (2018) and Krishnan and Ganga from the Malayalam film ‘Kammatti Paadam’ (2016). Mari Selvaraj stands out because his characters strive to find new resolutions to political challenges, and desire harmony. Rajeev Ravi’s characterisation of Krishnan in ‘Kammatti Paadam’ indicates that he is looking for such a distinct path. </p>.<p class="bodytext">All that Pariyan from Pariyerum Perumal hopes for is to see the privileged and underprivileged communities walk together as equals — it is a humane and emotional desire. But it is Mamannan who grabs political power and finds the opportunity to fulfil such a desire.</p>.<p class="CrossHead"><span class="bold">Legal battles</span></p>.<p class="bodytext">As films based on violent struggles gained prominence, films on Dalithood attempted a new approach: to embody the aspirations of the Constitution. In the Tamil film ‘Jai Bhim,’ directed by T J Gnanavel, although advocate Chandru plays the protagonist, the oppressed woman Sengeni comes across as the main character. Chandru’s role is to fight for the rights of Sengini. The oppression of tribals is addressed in Mansore’s ‘19.20.21’ (2023, Kannada). Although the film shows violence, the journey towards a legal struggle forms the main plot. Manju and his father, who wage a legal battle for years, finally emerge victorious. The ‘saviour’ narrative seen in ‘Jai Bhim’ is evident in this film too. </p>.<p class="bodytext">In ‘Ka Pae Ranasingam’ (2020, Tamil), directed by P Virumaandi, Ranasingam’s wife Ariyanachi appears as the real protagonist. Women characters Ariyanachi, Ponni and Sengini are given more prominence. In most films cited here, the Dalit ‘heroes’ take refuge under ‘heroism’. Although there is ample scope to extend female roles, a limit seems to have been set. </p>.<p class="bodytext">In Kannada cinema, there is a reluctance to include Dalit narratives. In the films of Soori, ‘Duniya’ (2007) and ‘Junglee’ (2009), although the main characters are Dalits, their characterisation is not fully realised. The Dalithood of Soori’s characters is lost in the shadows of orphanhood and poverty. The same problem persists in the recent film ‘Photo’ by Utsav Gonwar. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Many Kannada films follow protagonists migrating from the villages to the cities in search of a livelihood. Most narratives, instead of representing their Dalithood, show them as transitioning from poverty to rowdyism. This is the biggest shortcoming in the Kannada film industry. Films having themes of Dalithood, like the recent ‘Paalar’, did not get enough theatres. This is also the reason why producers hesitate to invest in such films. Although the Malayalam industry has been producing experimental storylines with distinct themes, there hasn’t been a popular Dalit film after ‘Kammati Padam’. </p>.<p class="bodytext">If south Indian films that enjoyed pan Indian appeal — ‘Pushpa: The Rise’ and ‘KGF Chapters 1 and 2’ — had shades of Dalithood, how would the world have responded to them? In Pushpa, the idea of ‘purity of blood’ is crammed into the narrative. A similar narrative is seen in ‘KGF’ as well. </p>.<p class="bodytext">In all the films mentioned here, the struggles lead to victory. This is a positive element that one must take note of. The characters remain unscathed. That is why their audiences experience a mix of emotions: sadness, courage, anger and relief. </p>.<p class="bodytext"><span class="italic">(The writer is a Kannada author) <br />(Translated from Kannada by Pranati A S)</span></p>