Me Too Storm In Mollywood

A VOLUMINOUS REPORT published in Kerala on August 19 by a state government-appointed panel that probed difficulties faced by women in Mollywood— the state’s film industry—has sent shockwaves far beyond, especially in Bollywood and other regional film industries. The MeToo survivors-led campaign it has spawned has given rise to anticipation that it may embolden more people to break the silence and speak up about how shame is weaponised to reinforce toxic masculinity in an industry known for informal work conditions.

The report poetically—and perhaps figuratively—refers to the stars in the sky, asserting that “scientific investigation” proves that they “don’t twinkle” and that the “glamour of the industry is just an exterior glitter”. The 290-page study of the three-member Justice Hema Committee, comprising retired High Court Justice K Hema, former actor Sharada, and retired IAS officer KB Valsala Kumari, points out that a group of male directors, producers, and actors enjoy a mafia-like grip over the Malayalam film industry, making anyone who stands up against them fair game. The re­port, published after redacting the names of the witnesses and the accused, cautions in the first paragraph itself: “Do not trust what you see, even salt looks like sugar!”

Anyone who has watched Kerala cinema closely will immediately remember references to “the stars” in a forceful criticism of the Malayalam film industry by the late Malayali orator, writer, and academic Sukumar Azhikode. He had hit out at the top dogs in the regional film industry more than a decade ago amidst charges that it was run by a powerful clique that pro­moted their own interests and deprived others—whom these grandees considered inconvenient—the right to work. “Thaaram chaaramaayi maarunnu ennathu thamashayayi edukkaruth. Authu oru dukhakaramaaya avasthayaanu (That stars burn out into ash is not to be taken as a joke. That is a sad reality),” Azhikode had said then, poking fun at ageing Malayali heroes playing romantic roles opposite young women half their age. He had made caustic remarks against powerful individuals in Kerala cinema over the victimisation of a few actors, most notably the late Thilakan, as well as directors by what he called a cabal.

The likes of Azhikode stand vindicated many years after his death with the Hema Committee report noting that “dark clouds of distress” hover over the Malayalam film world. The panel’s study also highlights the “sobbing stories of despair, not only of women but of men, too,” that are kept “hidden” from the rest of the world. The report was published five years after the panel submitted it to the state government in 2019. The committee has pilloried the domineering males calling the shots in the Malayalam film industry over systemic misogyny and normalisation of gender injustice.

The Hema Committee was formed shortly after Kerala’s Women in Cinema Collective (WCC), a first-of-its-kind organ­isation in the country, approached the state government with a petition to examine gender inequality and sexual harassment in the Malayalam film industry. The immediate trigger for the formation of WCC was the alleged abduction and sexual assault of a prominent female actor in Kochi in 2017. Dileep, who was one of Kerala’s most popular actors in the pre-Covid era, was arrested after the sexual assault on this actor over a raft of charges, includ­ing criminal conspiracy, blackmail, attempt to destroy evidence, and an assortment of other reported crimes.

If such an arrest was a wake-up call for an Indian film industry known for its brazen misogyny and cartelisation, the publication of the Hema Committee report has now inspired more survivors to speak up. Many of them were reluctant to depose before the panel, fearing ostracism and for want of allies.

Heads have begun rolling in Kerala, much to the anguish of those who thrived in a system based on privilege and favourit­ism. Within less than two weeks of the publication of the report, prominent names from the Kerala film industry were named as alleged harassers, forcing at least a few of them to quit from posi­tions of power they had held. They include director-screenwriter Ranjith, who resigned as Kerala Chalachitra Academy chairman over his alleged misbehaviour with a Bengali actor; and actor Siddique who had to resign as general secretary of the Asso­ciation of Malayalam Movie Artists (AMMA). Others who face accusations of sexual assault or abuse include actors Mukesh, Jayasurya, EdavelaBabu, andManiyanpillaRaju, amongafewothers. Mukesh is a member of the state Legislative Assembly.

With such allegations mounting, on August 27, in a move considered pusillanimous, all 17 mem­bers of the executive committee of AMMA, including its presi­dent and iconic actor Mohanlal, submitted their resignation fol­lowing an emergency online meeting. Elected in June this year, the tenure of the executive committee was to expire only in 2027.

Without an iota of doubt, WCC deserves credit for fighting to the end, notwithstanding the relentless trivialisation of their efforts by powerful people—mostly men—in the film business who enjoyed immense political clout, and social media and offline influence. WCC was created in February 2017 and three months later secured the government’s promise to set up a panel to study the problems faced by women in the state film industry. In June of the same year, the Hema Committee was set up. It is clear that had it not been for WCC, there wouldn’t have been such a commission of inquiry. Had there been no commission of inquiry, there would have been no MeToo protests; and without MeToo protests, the status quo would have remained unchallenged, helping sexual harassers to continue to walk away with impunity.

WCC was steered by the likes of actors Parvathy Thiruvothu, Revathy, Rima Kallingal, Padmapriya, director Anjali Menon, editor Beena Paul, and others. Foremost among the reasons that resulted in some success for WCC—which bore the brunt of at­tacks from power groups within the industry, especially from the enormously powerful AMMA office bearers—was the “faith that we were speaking the truth”, actor Padmapriya tells Open.

One of the charges against WCC often lapped up by its detractors is that it is elitist, comprising leading figures from among women in the industry. But then their campaign towards championing gender justice for all—especially in the light of women and girls of all socio-economic categories and job functions facing discrimi­nation and abuse—cannot be ignored. Again, their crusade has shaken up people who saw nothing awkward about demanding sexual favours from women—for them, it was par for the course. Open spoke to a few junior artists, often called extras, who fall into the bottom of the film industry’s hierarchy, who say that they too feel empowered enough to stand up now for their rights thanks to WCC’s work. “Indeed, we don’t have much bargaining power because we earn wages on a day-to-day basis, but we are aware of our rights and men are more careful now in the way they deal with us than earlier,” a Thiruvananthapuram-based junior artist says.

Kochi-based Maala Parvathy, a Malayalam actor and a qualified psychologist who also works in Tamil and Telugu movies, draws several parallels between cinema and society, endorsing the view that art often imitates life. She points out that whenever there has been a “disequilibrium” in male domination due to women ques­tioning the system, the latter have been targeted with extreme bias. “Like Parvathy Thiruvothu and others in Kerala films, there were people like KR Gowri Amma and the like in state politics who were hounded for standing up to men, and for being iconoclastic. You can always see a lot of similarities between films and society,” she avers. However, Malayalam cinema is far less progressive than Kerala society, which has made strides towards embracing modernity while patriarchy has endured in the film world, Maala Parvathy maintains, emphasising that even the likes of her, who often play “mother” roles, are forced to employ various “techniques”, mean­ing ruses, to keep predators and late-night callers at bay. She rues that WCC baiters and trolls who target women for their dissent and opinions against patriarchy often resort to slut-shaming. “It is as though, even after ages, they have not found any other way to silence independent women,” she explains, referring to the sexist tools that are typically used to discredit women who air their views in public, whether in the movies or elsewhere. She is glad, however, that changes are in the offing and that attitudes towards women are changing due to campaigns that call out malefactors. “That the past was glorious is a lie,” she says, adding that women back then refused to speak out because of the deep-rooted systemic misogyny of the time. According to her, some such feudal tendencies persist, especially the mindset among a few powerful people in the movie industry who pronounce that women have no business to com­plain because they have been offered an opportunity to be in films!

Noted Tamil-Malayalam novelist-scriptwriter B Jeyamohan— who courted controversy over his accusations that many people in the Malayalam film industry are linked to the mafia, including drug syndicates and money launderers—says that in 1920s Travancore, an upper-caste person would be shocked to get a prison sentence for killing someone from a lower caste. “It wouldn’t occur to him at all what did he ever do to get such a stringent punishment,” the writer says. “This is similar to what many people in AMMA feel about demands by WCC. They will get the idea only later,” Jeyamohan laughs. He claims that the Malayalam film industry has mafia-like traits because it is smaller, and a small group of people can control who gets to do what and who must be kept out. “In Tamil Nadu and other southern Indian film industries, there are power centres but not mafia, because they are too large for any small group to exercise tremendous control. They can’t keep a person out forever because there are multiple power centres,” Jeyamohan tells Open. He lauds the efforts of WCC to champion the cause of women in the industry, adding that greater representation of women in trade unions in the industry alone can protect their interests.

WCC is, without doubt, a pioneer.

PARVATHY THIRUVOTHU TELLS Open in an interview that WCC was clear in its aim from the get-go: “We want to make cinema a safe workspace where everyone’s dignity is respected.” She adds that the reluctance on the part of many sur­vivors to depose before the committee was only natural because there have not been many cases where rightful justice was served via the judicial system when it comes to sexual-assault cases. “As a society, we [Kerala] have always been very aware. We have always had people-focused strong governments and we have always dis­sented to keep the governments in check. We have a strong civil society that keeps the government and the opposition account­able. That is why we are confident of getting justice here compared to elsewhere. That is why this culture of clean-up is reflected in all areas,” Thiruvothu says.

As regards the silence of big names of the Indian film industry about the Hema Committee report, she says, “I am not worried as much as I am disturbed by the silence. Now is an opportunity to reflect and come forward as strong allies—it can change the tide faster for the better. Their silence and lack of participation only make it more apparent that there must be benefits they are bound to lose if they speak up.”

The 290-page study of the three-member justice Hema Committee points out that a group of male directors, producers, and actors enjoy a mafia-like grip over the Malayalam film industry, making anyone who stands up against them fair game

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Meanwhile, Bengaluru-basedDhanyaRajendran, editor-in-chief of The News Minute, who has extensively covered the assault on the Kerala actor and the activities of WCC from the start, feels that the likely impact of the release of the Hema Committee report after much delay is that there is an essential conversation, especially in Kerala now, on gender. She is also glad that there is a realisation that on-screen idols may not be role models in real life. “This is only the beginning as these patriarchal structures are strong and embedded deeply. Let’s not live in an illusion that this is a yesteryear problem in the industry and younger generations do not exploit women and children. I have heard recent accounts of many women who have told us about sexual harassment and abuse, even at the hands of those who pretend to be progressive in their cinema,” Rajendran says, dispelling the notion that it is only the older generation of artists who took advantage of their positions of authority.

For her part, Methil Devika, the renowned dancer who is mak­ing her movie debut in Kadha Innuvare, which is due for release on September 20, wishes that leaders of AMMA had shown some heroism off the screen. “I wish such a cleansing act [that the Hema Committee report has inspired] had taken place seven years ago when the actor was [reportedly] abducted and assaulted,” Devika says, adding, “It is only now that many people [actors and other influential people in movies] are realising that what they assumed as normal and innocuous was criminal, especially manipulation and exploitation of women. Hats off to WCC, which resisted all campaigns against them.”

Meanwhile, Malayalam director-screenwriter B Unnikrishnan, who is general secretary of Film Employees Federation of Kerala (FEFKA), tells Open that he wouldn’t attribute the rise in aware­ness in the film industry about gender justice to any single entity. “The assault on the survivor [the actor] in 2017 was a huge eye-opener, and even earlier, the trade union [FEFKA] had initiated work to obliterate class disparities among women in daily-wage categories. As a result, a female dancer gets paid the same amount as that of a male dancer,” he says. The job functions included for pay parity include hair stylists and cooks.

He concedes that WCC has been working towards addressing sexual harassment issues, but at the same time, FEFKA (the apex body of 21 trade unions) has also been toiling towards bringing in a qualitative change in the working conditions of all artists, across genders, Unnikrishnan argues, listing out various schemes offered to its members, including those that offer healthcare and pregnancy-care benefits. “The tragic aspect is that, in this maze, not many people know of these changes, nor do they talk about it. Equally important is the emphasis laid on amenities provided in shooting locations. The charges of not having access to toilets for women are things of the past,” he says.

Incidentally, there are others in the industry who claim that the situation may soon become more chaotic and that some peo­ple may engage in blackmail tactics to besmirch the reputation of well-known figures unless they pay up. Whatever they may say, slut-shaming and victim-bashing do not seem to be paying off.

Oxford University-educated young actor Santhy Balachandran offers her reasons why sexual exploitation allegations are the focus now. “Survivors who were isolated and silenced previously are find­ing the confidence to speak up because there is strength and solidar­ity in numbers. Sections of the media also preferentially amplify news with salacious details that guarantee higher engagement. I would hope that with time, other systemic issues noted in the report will also be addressed,” she says. The panel has spotlighted 17 forms of ex­ploitation of women working in 30 categories within the industry.

Award-winning film critic and academic CS Venkiteswaran is spot-on when he says that the rot in Malayalam cinema now stands exposed: “It is there for all to see.”

This means a lot of people may have reasons to worry about a likely domino effect that extends beyond God’s Own Country.

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