How do you spot a shape-shifter? It would have been easy to recognise the determined, despairing face of the nurse Sameera, wrapped in a head scarf, in bombed-out Tikrit in the Malayalam film Take-Off.
It would have been easy to identify the independent, charming Jaya on a road trip in the Hindi film Qarib Qarib Singlle. But how do you find Parvathy, the 29-year-old, who played these parts? At a restaurant in Ooty, a picturesque hill station in Tamil Nadu, where she is shooting her next film, you cannot instantly pick out the woman in a grey pullover, comfortable check slacks and a shawl carelessly thrown around her as the actor you are looking for. You have to eventually go by the outsized spectacles without which she is rarely seen off-screen: the spectacles that hide her face and identify her.
She does not want to be known for a particular feature of hers, she says. "How else would you suspend disbelief when you watch one of my films? That will be counter-productive to what I do as an artist." No wonder her Twitter bio says: "Actor. Feminist. Shapeshifter."
I am meeting her two months after she became the first Malayalam actor to win the top honours at IFFI. Exactly a fortnight after that memorable evening in Goa, she was at a panel discussion on "Women in Cinema" at the International Film Festival of Kerala in Thiruvananthapuram. She said she was disappointed with the misogynistic dialogues of an "actor par excellence" in a Malayalam film — she refrained from saying the actor's name (Mammootty, the superstar) but she named the film (Kasaba).
That was enough for her to become the target of vicious online harassment. Fans of Mammootty trolled her for days, using sexually coloured abuses, issuing rape threats and death threats. She recalls in chilling detail one of the horrifying messages she got on social media: "He described how many men would rape me, how they would rape me and asked me my 'size', so they could be prepared. And he's 20 years old. Imagine how many 20-year-olds there are in our country who think it's all right to do this." It divided Kerala down the middle: those who stood by her and against her. Apologise to Mammootty, many hollered. Parvathy did not. "I cannot imagine apologising," says Parvathy. "Cinema is very important to me. I derive a lot of strength from this art form and I believe that it is very impactful socio-politically. When my work reaches people, if they like my work, they would support it. And I am grateful for that. Apart from that, I don't want them to like me, glorify me, or celebrate me," says Parvathy.
This in an industry where superstars — all men, incidentally — are propped up by countless fans' associations. She defines her relationship with the audience as "a very straightforward" one. "I have committed myself to giving quality work. It has nothing to do with the freedom to express my opinions about issues around us. I reserve the right to be a participating citizen and artist."
To those who trolled her, she sent a tweet: a beautifully embroidered image of a hand with a pointed finger. Below that was "OMKV", an acronym for a Malayalam cussword which roughly translates into, "Run off, you a**hole." She was appropriating a swear word liberally used in Malayali male circles and throwing it right back at them. Offline, she filed a police complaint.
While Hollywood was in an uproar over allegations of sexual harassment against Harvey Weinstein and others, Kerala was witnessing its own #ItsTime moment.
Parvathy's response was of a piece with other choices she has made. Three years ago, she told people not to tag the caste surname Menon to her name. The unconventional actor, who is changing even the way conversations are made about cinema, has had a rather conventional background. The daughter of a public sector bank officer and a lawyer, Parvathy has had a middle-class upbringing, with hardly any connection to the world of cinema.
"We are not at all the kind of people you would think would send their daughter to the film industry," says her mother Usha Kumari. "In fact, we hardly watched that many movies," her father Vinod Kumar chips in, while they wait for Parvathy to finish a shot in Ooty.
They don't usually accompany her on set but this time, they have decided to visit her from their home in Kozhikode, Kerala. It was a part-time gig as a TV anchor and a win in a local beauty contest that led Parvathy to her debut film Out of Syllabus in 2006. But it was an acting workshop later that year — as part of her second film, Notebook — that really drew her into the world of cinema.
She was selective about her roles, even then, even when it meant going without work for over a year-and-a-half and a dwindling bank balance. "Then I got selected for the Tamil film Maryan (opposite Dhanush) and the advance helped me tide over a few more months. That period of my career made me realise that I truly couldn't compromise on work just for survival," she recalls.
Film critic Neelima Menon, who runs the film website www.fullpicture.in, says, "Parvathy is capable of carrying a film on her shoulders, like Take-Off. The film worked because of her. She seems to be extremely choosy and, from recent controversies, it is clear that she wouldn't do the usual hero-worshipping films. It's rare to see a heroine like that in Malayalam cinema today."
"I Am Not Going Anywhere" In the aftermath of the comments she had made about Mammootty's film, Parvathy says she was told there would now be a lobby against her in the industry and that she would not get work. "But am I going to leave? This has been my home for 12 years and the industry is as much mine as anybody else's. I came in on my own accord, stayed through by hard work and will power — so I'll still make films. There will be obstacles, but I am not going anywhere."
Nor did she intend to fly under the radar, after speaking out. "I was advised to lie low, but I said I don't want to lie low and get work. If I don't get work, I'll create it." The recent incidents, she says, have only strengthened her resolve to make films, through production and direction.
The attacks on Parvathy in December 2017 marked the end of a turbulent year for Malayalam cinema. It was a year in which a wellknown actor was kidnapped and sexually assaulted. Shockingly, one of the most popular male actors, Dileep, was arrested in the case. Worse, many stalwarts of the industry expressed support for the accused and cast aspersions on the survivor. It was also a year in which women in the film industry came together to voice their rights and formed Women in Cinema Collective.
"What Parvathy said became controversial because she took a position that was challenging patriarchal values. The film or actor she was talking about was incidental; it is the stand she took, which challenges our value system, that matters," says Deedi Damodaran, a founding-member of the collective. While trolls attacking women is not new, many were taken aback to see it happening in Kerala, a state considered to be relatively progressive.
Damodaran, the first woman scriptwriter in Malayalam cinema, says the term progressive has to be used within inverted commas.
"We are talking about a progressive class that is only half of Kerala. We don't talk about the other half. The wives of these so-called progressive men will be at home cooking dinner, while they are out attending film festivals."
Film editor Bina Paul says: "While women are becoming more aware of their role and expressing their points of view, society is not able to comprehend this change. This has a lot to do with Kerala's middle-class society, where people want the status quo to remain. This is what causes friction." And this friction spills over into films.
Fan clubs, a phenomenon relatively new to Kerala, had a significant part to play in the backlash against Parvathy and the actor who was assaulted, says writer NS Madhavan. The growth of these clubs was closely connected to the trend of Malayalam films glorifying the male hero, mainly Mammootty and Mohanlal, which began in the 1990s. "The misogyny seems to be confined to these fans. There is a great disconnect between people online and those whom I talk to offline, who are all sympathetic to Parvathy and the actor who was assaulted," he adds. Nithin Renji Panicker, director of Kasaba, the film whose misogyny Parvathy had called out, says he does not think Parvathy's comments merit a response.
If he has to make the film all over again, he won't change a thing. "For those who make commercial films, it is about what sells," says Panicker, 30, whose father, Renji Panicker, is well-known for directing a series of hero-oriented, macho, action films in the 1990s. But what about the vicious online attack on Parvathy? "Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. People have the right to express themselves positively or negatively," he says, conceding only when asked pointedly that issuing death threats was "not good".
While his fans abused Parvathy, Mammootty did not intervene for weeks, finally telling a journalist that he had not appointed anyone to speak on his behalf, but stopping short of an outright condemnation of his fans. Says Parvathy: "I cannot really say I was completely satisfied (with what Mammootty said) but I am happy he spoke up. When I messaged him, he said he was used to such things. It was a different matter that by then, it had reached a level where it was no longer about me or him. It was about everyone," says Parvathy.
She says she will continue to challenge misogyny. While she admits there is a lot to learn, she is also conscious about using her influence to bring about change. "I've realised that unless and until something happens to you, you don't really get down to doing anything much about it. Then, you can either go away into oblivion because you would rather be in that comforting space or you can't go back to it ever again because you are too awake. The latter is what happened to me."
(Source: ET)
It would have been easy to identify the independent, charming Jaya on a road trip in the Hindi film Qarib Qarib Singlle. But how do you find Parvathy, the 29-year-old, who played these parts? At a restaurant in Ooty, a picturesque hill station in Tamil Nadu, where she is shooting her next film, you cannot instantly pick out the woman in a grey pullover, comfortable check slacks and a shawl carelessly thrown around her as the actor you are looking for. You have to eventually go by the outsized spectacles without which she is rarely seen off-screen: the spectacles that hide her face and identify her.
She does not want to be known for a particular feature of hers, she says. "How else would you suspend disbelief when you watch one of my films? That will be counter-productive to what I do as an artist." No wonder her Twitter bio says: "Actor. Feminist. Shapeshifter."
I am meeting her two months after she became the first Malayalam actor to win the top honours at IFFI. Exactly a fortnight after that memorable evening in Goa, she was at a panel discussion on "Women in Cinema" at the International Film Festival of Kerala in Thiruvananthapuram. She said she was disappointed with the misogynistic dialogues of an "actor par excellence" in a Malayalam film — she refrained from saying the actor's name (Mammootty, the superstar) but she named the film (Kasaba).
That was enough for her to become the target of vicious online harassment. Fans of Mammootty trolled her for days, using sexually coloured abuses, issuing rape threats and death threats. She recalls in chilling detail one of the horrifying messages she got on social media: "He described how many men would rape me, how they would rape me and asked me my 'size', so they could be prepared. And he's 20 years old. Imagine how many 20-year-olds there are in our country who think it's all right to do this." It divided Kerala down the middle: those who stood by her and against her. Apologise to Mammootty, many hollered. Parvathy did not. "I cannot imagine apologising," says Parvathy. "Cinema is very important to me. I derive a lot of strength from this art form and I believe that it is very impactful socio-politically. When my work reaches people, if they like my work, they would support it. And I am grateful for that. Apart from that, I don't want them to like me, glorify me, or celebrate me," says Parvathy.
This in an industry where superstars — all men, incidentally — are propped up by countless fans' associations. She defines her relationship with the audience as "a very straightforward" one. "I have committed myself to giving quality work. It has nothing to do with the freedom to express my opinions about issues around us. I reserve the right to be a participating citizen and artist."
To those who trolled her, she sent a tweet: a beautifully embroidered image of a hand with a pointed finger. Below that was "OMKV", an acronym for a Malayalam cussword which roughly translates into, "Run off, you a**hole." She was appropriating a swear word liberally used in Malayali male circles and throwing it right back at them. Offline, she filed a police complaint.
While Hollywood was in an uproar over allegations of sexual harassment against Harvey Weinstein and others, Kerala was witnessing its own #ItsTime moment.
Parvathy's response was of a piece with other choices she has made. Three years ago, she told people not to tag the caste surname Menon to her name. The unconventional actor, who is changing even the way conversations are made about cinema, has had a rather conventional background. The daughter of a public sector bank officer and a lawyer, Parvathy has had a middle-class upbringing, with hardly any connection to the world of cinema.
"We are not at all the kind of people you would think would send their daughter to the film industry," says her mother Usha Kumari. "In fact, we hardly watched that many movies," her father Vinod Kumar chips in, while they wait for Parvathy to finish a shot in Ooty.
They don't usually accompany her on set but this time, they have decided to visit her from their home in Kozhikode, Kerala. It was a part-time gig as a TV anchor and a win in a local beauty contest that led Parvathy to her debut film Out of Syllabus in 2006. But it was an acting workshop later that year — as part of her second film, Notebook — that really drew her into the world of cinema.
She was selective about her roles, even then, even when it meant going without work for over a year-and-a-half and a dwindling bank balance. "Then I got selected for the Tamil film Maryan (opposite Dhanush) and the advance helped me tide over a few more months. That period of my career made me realise that I truly couldn't compromise on work just for survival," she recalls.
Film critic Neelima Menon, who runs the film website www.fullpicture.in, says, "Parvathy is capable of carrying a film on her shoulders, like Take-Off. The film worked because of her. She seems to be extremely choosy and, from recent controversies, it is clear that she wouldn't do the usual hero-worshipping films. It's rare to see a heroine like that in Malayalam cinema today."
"I Am Not Going Anywhere" In the aftermath of the comments she had made about Mammootty's film, Parvathy says she was told there would now be a lobby against her in the industry and that she would not get work. "But am I going to leave? This has been my home for 12 years and the industry is as much mine as anybody else's. I came in on my own accord, stayed through by hard work and will power — so I'll still make films. There will be obstacles, but I am not going anywhere."
Nor did she intend to fly under the radar, after speaking out. "I was advised to lie low, but I said I don't want to lie low and get work. If I don't get work, I'll create it." The recent incidents, she says, have only strengthened her resolve to make films, through production and direction.
The attacks on Parvathy in December 2017 marked the end of a turbulent year for Malayalam cinema. It was a year in which a wellknown actor was kidnapped and sexually assaulted. Shockingly, one of the most popular male actors, Dileep, was arrested in the case. Worse, many stalwarts of the industry expressed support for the accused and cast aspersions on the survivor. It was also a year in which women in the film industry came together to voice their rights and formed Women in Cinema Collective.
"What Parvathy said became controversial because she took a position that was challenging patriarchal values. The film or actor she was talking about was incidental; it is the stand she took, which challenges our value system, that matters," says Deedi Damodaran, a founding-member of the collective. While trolls attacking women is not new, many were taken aback to see it happening in Kerala, a state considered to be relatively progressive.
Damodaran, the first woman scriptwriter in Malayalam cinema, says the term progressive has to be used within inverted commas.
"We are talking about a progressive class that is only half of Kerala. We don't talk about the other half. The wives of these so-called progressive men will be at home cooking dinner, while they are out attending film festivals."
Film editor Bina Paul says: "While women are becoming more aware of their role and expressing their points of view, society is not able to comprehend this change. This has a lot to do with Kerala's middle-class society, where people want the status quo to remain. This is what causes friction." And this friction spills over into films.
Fan clubs, a phenomenon relatively new to Kerala, had a significant part to play in the backlash against Parvathy and the actor who was assaulted, says writer NS Madhavan. The growth of these clubs was closely connected to the trend of Malayalam films glorifying the male hero, mainly Mammootty and Mohanlal, which began in the 1990s. "The misogyny seems to be confined to these fans. There is a great disconnect between people online and those whom I talk to offline, who are all sympathetic to Parvathy and the actor who was assaulted," he adds. Nithin Renji Panicker, director of Kasaba, the film whose misogyny Parvathy had called out, says he does not think Parvathy's comments merit a response.
If he has to make the film all over again, he won't change a thing. "For those who make commercial films, it is about what sells," says Panicker, 30, whose father, Renji Panicker, is well-known for directing a series of hero-oriented, macho, action films in the 1990s. But what about the vicious online attack on Parvathy? "Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. People have the right to express themselves positively or negatively," he says, conceding only when asked pointedly that issuing death threats was "not good".
While his fans abused Parvathy, Mammootty did not intervene for weeks, finally telling a journalist that he had not appointed anyone to speak on his behalf, but stopping short of an outright condemnation of his fans. Says Parvathy: "I cannot really say I was completely satisfied (with what Mammootty said) but I am happy he spoke up. When I messaged him, he said he was used to such things. It was a different matter that by then, it had reached a level where it was no longer about me or him. It was about everyone," says Parvathy.
She says she will continue to challenge misogyny. While she admits there is a lot to learn, she is also conscious about using her influence to bring about change. "I've realised that unless and until something happens to you, you don't really get down to doing anything much about it. Then, you can either go away into oblivion because you would rather be in that comforting space or you can't go back to it ever again because you are too awake. The latter is what happened to me."
(Source: ET)
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