‘Little English’ 2022: An Analysis

Pravesh Kumar’s British Indian romantic comedy follows newlywed Simmy (Rameet Rauli) in her attempts to navigate her new family, Britain and being deserted by her new husband Raj (Simon Rivers). Simmy has travelled to the UK from India for this marriage, and as a result only knows a ‘Little English,’ as referenced by the film’s title. While the film features the classic rom com tropes, as Simmy falls for her husband’s younger brother Harry (Viraj Juneja), what stuck out to me more was the macro divide between Britain and India, as characterised by the micro divide between the India-born Simmy and her new British Indian family. To me the film highlights the clashes and prejudices within the Indian community itself, providing an interesting cross section of what it means to be British and Indian, and fundamentally asks if we can be both.

Simmy is very much the heart of the film, and we experience the story through her eyes. In British television, it is more common to see subdued, downtrodden Indian women who are controlled abusively by those around them, Nish’s control of Suki in ‘EastEnders’ comes to mind. Like many Bollywood heroines before her, such as Simran from ‘Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge’, Simmy manages to embody stereotypical female roles, like the dutiful daughter, but also subverts them at the same time, and fights to stand up for what she believes in.

We see Simmy obey her new family; she serves drinks to guests, much like the servants she had in India and takes the brunt of her mother and sister in law’s anger. While she displays passivity in these incidences, this does not define her and is explained by her traditional background. While she respects her elders, she does not allow this to drown out her own voice, and although she is at times passive she also displays a great deal of activeness. Simmy is largely left to her own devices in her new home, and during this time she vows to find her husband and does so by stealing Bobby’s phone. She is also proactive enough to teach herself English, recognising, with Bobby’s help, that this will be the key to her freedom. Simmy manages to be respectful to others, and respectful to herself by still retaining her own agency and not compromising her own feelings and wants.

Simmy’s predicament highlights the naivete exhibited by Indians who live in Britain and Indians who still live in India. Simmy was sent here by her father for a better life, for her marriage which was presumably arranged to improve her prospects. Despite this, she is unhappy and notes that she ‘pines for home.’ Indians in India seem to think that life is better here, and Simmy was probably sold that dream. However, the reality that she finds herself in is somewhat different.

I experienced this when I went to India for the first time in March. I lived in a Gurdwara for a week, and everyone that I encountered seemed quite happy go lucky, away from the rat race of London life. This jovial attitude however did conceal poverty and money troubles, and conversely, those in the Gurdwara were jealous of my life, in the big, exciting city of London. There’s naivete on both sides, and everybody’s expectations probably do not meet reality. The reality of Simmy’s situation probably kills her idealism slightly and increases her isolation. However, her isolation only encourages her to improve her position. She also draws strength from her faith.

Simmy proclaims that she is ‘the daughter of a Sikh. I won’t cry.’ Simmy draws her strength from her faith, which ironically, is something that she and her newfound family share. The similarities between Simmy and her new family are rarely touched upon, instead, their differences take greater precedence, specifically the fact that Simmy has come to Britain from India… but more on that later.

Simmy’s character cannot be discussed without paying attention to her clothing. Simmy’s hair and clothes reflect her journey from isolation to freedom. Initially, she appears in an Indian suit, and wears jewellery. The colours Simmy wears contrast the muted tones of her mother-in-law, and during their first argument, Simmy dons a bright yellow, emphasising her passion. Simmy wears bold, block colours, setting her aside from the muted tones of her mother-in-law and western dress of Mindy, her sister-in-law. The closer Simmy gets to Harry, the closer her colours move to red, a colour traditionally worn by Panjabi brides. Her moving upon the colour scale from yellow to cerise highlights her growing love and passion for Harry, as well as her increasing inner strength. Outside of the house, Simmy adopts western dress as she gradually begins to learn and feel more comfortable in Britain.

She is at her most free with Harry, running around in the fields. The image of two lovers running through the fields is an iconic hark to the Bollywood romance, as referenced in Simmy’s clothes. Simmy wears a white suit, highlighting her innocence, with a red chuhni. It directly references one of Anjali’s signature outfits from ‘Kuch Kuch Hota Hai’… but without the heartbreaking sadness. The whiteness of Simmy’s suit is representative of her feelings for Harry and her freedom. With him she can have a fresh start, a blank canvas. In this scene, her hair is open, again, emphasising her freedom and happiness. This was not always the case though, as whilst in the house, especially in the presence of her mother-in-law, her hair is harshly tied in a bun, or in a plait. It loosens as her attraction to Harry grows. She is at her most free in nature, and with Harry.

Simmy’s mother-in-law, Gurbaksh (Seema Bowri) is not just your stereotypical mother-in-law from hell. Well… she is in part, but not without good reason. It is due to the racism that she experienced when first moving to Britain. Gurbaksh’s character speaks to the idea of intergenerational trauma, as she encourages the same bitterness in Simmy. This, coupled with Simmy’s naivete about Britain means Simmy is at risk of carrying this trauma on.

It is conceivable to think that Gurbaksh did not have much freedom as a young wife, as she does not encourage Simmy’s freedom. Simmy is scapegoated for pretty much everything, being told ‘since the day you set foot in this house, everything has gone wrong.’ They seem to forget that it is not Simmy’s fault that her husband ran away. Simmy’s treatment does not only enforce patriarchal views, but also highlights the sexist attitudes women exhibit towards each other because of it. Gurbaksh’s attitude towards Simmy does not encourage cultural change and cohesion and highlights the divide between Britain and India. Mindy isn’t subjected to the same criticism that Simmy is by Gurbaksh, and in fact joins Gurbaksh in chastising Simmy. Gurbaksh also displays harshness towards Harry and ends up alienating herself from several members of the family. On the surface, Gurbaksh appears as the traditional, Indian, matriarchal figure, an idea she is forced to confront when the question is later asked ‘is anyone happy?’ With the above comment, Gurbaksh is forced to question her lifestyle, and realise that the culture she is upholding is not making everyone else happy. It is her revaluating of this, that allows Raj, Simmy, Harry and Ruth their happy ending.

While Simmy must contend with these traditional values, she must contend with Mindy’s (Goldy Notay) prejudices. This relationship stuck out to me as highlighting the divide between Britain and India, as majority of Mindy’s distrust and insults towards Simmy stem from the fact that Simmy was not born in Britain. This is referenced to by their different clothing, Simmy’s wears Indian dress, Mindy wears western. Mindy refers to Simmy as a ‘village virgin,’ coming from ‘freshie land’ and opines that once Simmy gets her visa, she will be ‘off with (my) husband.’

Mindy forgets that in some way or another, we can all be traced back to ‘freshie land’ and commits the cardinal sin that many Indians do – being prejudiced to their fellow Indians. We see this all the time; a classic example being judging other Indians based on their outdated caste. All of Mindy’s negative views about Simmy stem from the fact that she was not born and bred in Britain. Her attitude is almost colonial, and her distrust of Simmy mirrors Britain’s xenophobia. This is massively ironic considering Mindy’s husband is from India. This however, in her eyes, is ok, as he has become naturalized in Britain, highlighted by his strong command of English in contrast to Simmy’s. Mindy notes that husband Bobby (Ameet Chana) should be grateful though, as without her he would ‘still be dancing in the fields.’ I see nothing wrong with this personally, it seems more jovial than joining the rat race, and dancing in the fields is where we see Simmy at her most happy. Maybe Mindy should try it. Mindy does not care for it, and her delivery of this line shows that she does not respect it. Despite not being white, Mindy’s comment is reminiscent of the white saviour narrative, and the paternalistic view that she has saved Bobby from what she perceives to be mindless nonsense. Mindy is the foil to Simmy, as it seems, Britain is the foil to India.

Mindy only begins to be more sympathetic to Simmy when she realises that they have family difficulties in common. Simmy struggles with her abandonment, and Mindy struggles to conceive. Simmy’s attitude towards Mindy during this time highlights her kindness and family orientated nature and encourages Mindy to realise that you cannot judge someone based on where they are from, you must judge them on their character. It may not quite fit with the conventional definition of racism, but Mindy is unquestionably prejudiced. I found this relationship to be the most fascinating in the film.

Another character that rebels against Gurbaksh is Harry, Simmy’s love interest. He combats the traditional ‘respect your elder’s trope,’ by quipping that ‘respect has to be earned.’ This belief mirrors that of younger generations and is something that Simmy lives by. Simmy tries to earn her family’s respect by teaching herself English. It is unfortunate that no one in the family actively decides to help her. It is particularly unfortunate that no woman in the family tries to help her, but as discussed, they are hampered by their own prejudices.

Harry and Simmy’s initial relationship is somewhat rocky. Despite flying the flag for the younger generations, Harry falls into the Mindy trap of looking down on Simmy because she has moved here from India. Telling her to ‘go back where’ she came from, like Mindy, Harry demonstrates a flippant xenophobic attitude. Harry is the first character to taste Simmy’s fury, and she rightly makes him aware that her poor command of the English language does not equal stupidity. She is also no ‘imported slave.’ She can be a good daughter in law, but she can have her own voice, and fight for what she thinks is right, just as Harry tries to do in his everyday life. Simmy bridges the gap between Britain and India, and the older and younger generations by honouring and trying to improve both. This is no easy feat, and for majority of the film she seems to be fighting a losing battle.

It is interesting that Simmy picks her first fight with Harry. Perhaps it is because he is younger and has a lower standing in the family. Whilst highlighting the difference between the two, the scene also notes that Simmy and Harry are not that different. In this scene Simmy is living by Harry’s rule that age does not command respect. She puts a personal spin on it though, stating that her ability or inability to speak English, or the country that she hails from, should not mean that she is respected any more or any less. Harry does not like being at the receiving end of a variation of his own rule.

As highlighted by the title of the film, language is a prominent theme in the film. It is a common Bollywood trope that speaking English equates wealth, this was touched upon in last year’s ‘Rocky Aur Rani Ki Prem Kahani.’ Early on, Bobby recognises the importance of learning English, telling Simmy that this will grant her freedom. In her spat with Harry, we hear her throw out some popular culture phrases, such as ‘may the force be with you.’ It is evident that she is learning English through the television. When I went to India, I drew attention for speaking English, and although I was slightly chastised for not knowing Panjabi, my intelligence was not called into question. Simmy deals with the opposite sentiments in this film and is looked down upon for her lack of English. It is interesting that, despite their distain towards her lack of knowledge, no one in the family actively tries to help her.

Despite this divide, Harry and Simmy use language to express their feelings to one another. They use a little English, and a little Indian. By using both they literally form their own love language, and their intimacy comes from their sharing of identities with each other in this form. We see this visually when they paint their names on the wall, in each other’s languages. They both adopt a little bit of each other, championing a cultural cohesion and understanding that, up until this point, we have not really seen in the film. This is also a win for Simmy in her quest to bridge the multitude of divides that she is trying to manage, which is reminiscent of British Indians today. Ultimately, the film teaches us that if we talk and listen to each other, this is possible.

A little side note on names. I wonder if the names Harry and Simmy are a play on ‘When Harry met Sejal,’ which itself is a play on ‘When Harry met Sally.’ If so, nice touch.

‘Little English’ is available on ITVX now!

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‘Kaur’ 2022: An Analysis

Short film ‘Kaur’ manages to start a complex discussion by zoning into an intimate conversation between father and daughter. Not only does it shine the spotlight on young British Sikhs today, grappling with traditional and cultural ideas, but it also puts a feminist spin on the debate by centring around a young woman, Avani, and her desire to wear a turban against her father’s wishes.

In the past year, I have been trying to delve into Sikhi more myself but have struggled to reconcile my perceived modern British upbringing and the traditional Sikhi practised and preached in Panjab. This was presented to me directly when I went to Panjab for the first time in March. However, what I discovered was summed up at the beginning of ‘Kaur,’ and maintained throughout.

‘He who regards all men as equal is religious’

Guru Nanak Dev Ji

Upon my research prior to flying out, it struck me that this was the core teaching of Sikhi, and that if one lives with this assertion, one is a true Sikh.

Avani argues that it is her connection to her faith that encourages her to wear a turban. Can she be a dedicated Sikh, and not have a turban? Her mother seems to think so. ‘Cutting your hair doesn’t mean that your faith is any less worthy than anyone else’s’ opines Avani’s mum. The relationship between Avani and her mother highlights the value and worth of female solidarity, and although Panjabi culture appears predominantly patriarchal, it still harbours a strong matriarchal presence.

Avani’s mothers’ statement concerning her daughter’s hair felt particularly validating, as part of the reason there is divide between the old and the young is because of judgment. While it is taught in schools that Sikh = turban, quite literally, the nuance of our religion is forgotten. Being a member of the Khalsa dictates that you should not cut your hair, as set up by Guru Gobind Singh Ji. Guru Nanak Dev Ji’s Sikhism did not include this detail. Both are equally valid.

I would argue that some of the older generations do not subscribe to Avani’s mum’s sentiments. I tell myself this when I get criticised for not having a turban, and this poignant quote is also affirmed by Guru Nanak’s teaching detailed at the start of the film. From my perspective, sometimes it feels like the older generations forget the core teachings and scripture of Sikhi, and this is echoed at the start of the film. Guru Nanak Dev Ji preached charity, equality, on all accounts, and earning an honest living to provide for family.  The way that we treat those around us surely is evidence of our faith, it should not be measured solely by the length of our hair.

It is important to remember that Avani’s fathers’ concerns come from a place of love, and this is key to the story. It is not judgement, or sexism, he is purely concerned for her welfare. He argues against her decision because of the racial abuse and violence he suffered when coming to this country, which climaxed in school bullies cutting off his hair. My own family when they moved here suffered racial abuse, and the effect of it is still felt by some of them today. I have detailed in other posts that, perhaps in different forms, racism does still exist in society, so it is understandable that Avani’s father shows apprehension.

It is Avani’s generation that is pushing into the unknown more than ever. I am sure that we all have examples of times when our grandparents did not, or could not, understand our chosen path. It may not mean that they loved us any less, but it took them extra understanding and adapting to something that to us, felt normal growing up today.

‘Kaur’ also demonstrates that generational trauma is ever-present. Avani tries to convince her father to see his point of view, but he maintains that he cannot support her decision. Perhaps Avani’s father will only come round once he sees Avani thrive in her new life, free from harm and discrimination. Perhaps the only way to heal generational trauma is to let the next generation fly, and hope that history does not repeat itself. It is a lot to ask the older generation who experienced this kind of abuse to let it go, and it will take work and understanding for them to work through this fear.

In a patriarchal Panjabi culture, the film does well to put women at the centre of the piece, especially considering it is tackling the issue of a turban, something that is largely associated with men. The fact that the short is named ‘Kaur,’ meaning ‘princess,’ tells us from the start that this will be a female-centric story. Although there has been progression, old fashioned views on female roles, especially within Panjab, do persist, and seeing a woman wearing a turban on platforms like ITVX and Netflix does shed light on a marginalised, minority group. The story reminded me of media personality and life coach Harnaam Kaur. Kaur is a Sikh woman who wears a turban and has a beard. Kaur has a beard due to polycystic ovary syndrome, which encourages excessive hair growth, and because of her faith she stopped cutting it off. She received online bullying and abuse for her appearance, and I remember reading about her story as early as 2014/2015. I could see nothing wrong with her appearance, and hopefully Kaur will help to normalise women with turbans and facial hair.

Avani’s father makes the universal comment that there is a ‘price to pay for being different.’ While Avani’s father specifically talks about wearing a turban, this can be applied to anyone, of any faith, colour, class, creed, or sexuality. Being different isn’t easy, but I always felt that Sikhi and its teachings on equality worked to eliminate that. Equality is a core part of Sikhi, and despite all the characteristics listed above, Guru Nanak Dev Ji preached that we are all born equal.

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‘Heeramandi: The Diamond Bazaar’ – Fact and Fiction

Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s long awaited Netflix series ‘Heeramandi: The Diamond Bazaar’ is set during the fight for Indian independence, and follows the lives of several tawaifs, in the title district in Lahore. While the series looks incredible and replicates the period detail of Bhansali’s other critically acclaimed works, I would argue that the real life story of Heeramandi is far more interesting than Bhansali’s fictionalised version.

What the series does do well however, is shed light on a marginalised group in history. The complexities of tawaif’s, and their role in shaping the culture of India is often marred by British involvement, leading to the idea that they were mere prostitutes. This simplistic view lacks nuance, and although, I would argue that several of Bhansali’s plots are thin in this series, his establishment of the world of Heeramandi, and the impact its inhabitants had, is its strongest asset. Before we get into some of the dialogue, lets break down some of the terms that are used in the show.

Tawaif
A successful female courtesan who exclusively entertained the nobility, sometimes through dance, singing and theatre. They were regarded as cultured, and superior authorities and teachers in etiquette. Many considered them to be the ideal of womanhood. Their influence lasted until the 1980s.

Courtesan
Performing women, known for singing and dancing.

Nautch Girl
A term coined by the British, based on the Hindi word ‘nachna’ (to dance). Unlike tawaifs, nautch girls entertained men, women and children of all classes and castes on various occasions. Under the British Raj, they were branded as lewd and improper by the Victorian British elite and were forced into prostitution after losing their patrons.

Bhansali’s series really works to cement the importance and influence of the tawaif’s very early on in the series. In a pivotal scene in the first episode, chief tawaif Mallikajaan is offered a gramophone by a salesman, who explains that with this device, the music of the tawaifs can be transported and heard all over far and wide. Mallikajaan rejects him stating that the tawaifs at Heeramandi are ‘like the Moon, which can be seen through the windows, but it never enters.’

This simile implies the untouchability of the tawaifs, in beauty, mystery and status. They are visible to the naked eye, but their true complexity is unreachable, making them beautiful and mystical to the viewer. The physical position of the Moon, above our heads, cements the tawaifs status as above the common people and entertainers of Heeramandi, they are of a different class. The moon is not always visible, or available to us, and nor are they. Not everybody can afford the company of the tawaifs due to their high status and exclusivity. Their beauty can never be fully understood or obtained.

Their ‘performances are for connoisseurs of music, not merchants of music.’ Mallikajaan refuses to downplay and cheapen the tawaifs work, and emphasises the exclusivity and value of their craft. Mallikajaan describes the women at Heeramandi as the ‘queens’ of Lahore. That speaks for itself.

As well as this, their entrapment, and status as women in a gilded cage is also explored. Alamzeb, Mallikajaan’s youngest daughter, dreams of being a poet, not a tawaif. Her innocence and naivete throughout the series is slowly slaughtered, in part by those using her as a pawn in their power play, including her mother. To Mallikajaan, books are just hobbies, ‘anklets are the only way of life.’ Despite commanding the respect of the elite in Heeramandi, to others, the daughter of a tawaif is nothing more than that. Mallikajaan does not believe Alamzeb could be anything outside of Heermandi, her parentage will hold her back in an ignorant world. Mallikajaan claims that ‘here our destinies are written on our feet, not on our hands.’ Despite the control the tawaifs wield, it is still hampered by their position.

In the show, their freedom runs in parallel to Indian independence, and it is Bibbojaan, Mallikajaan’s daughter, that gets caught in the crossfire. After assassinating a British general at the end of the series, she is executed. When Mallikajaan’s adopted daughter, Lajjo, dies earlier in the season, Mallikajaan congratulates her on her freedom. At this time everyone in India is bound by something, their status as tawaifs, or their oppression by the British. It is only in death that any of them can find true freedom and escape these shackles. This might mean that in the series, everyone’s efforts for freedom are futile. Even after independence was won, historically we know that Partition caused serious bloodshed.

Tawaifs performing at Hyderabad

Historically, the status of the tawaifs was marred by British colonisers, who were both intrigued and repulsed by them. Realising the high influence that they had, the British set out to reduce their cultural and social status, which is accurately portrayed in the show. Eventually the tawaifs and nautch girls were deemed ‘unchristian’ by the British, which further reduced their status. In the British mindset, a tawaif was merely a prostitute with a different name. Tawaifs, like other Indians, also resisted British control and vied for their own autonomy. However, the British were successful in isolating tawaifs, forcing them to move into ‘black towns.’ These areas were disparaged by the British who resided in the opulent ‘white towns.’

The tawaifs also got caught in India and Pakistan’s cross cultural religious conflict. With the rising influence of Indian television in the 1990’s, Pakistan decided that female entertainers were more closely associated with India and Hinduism. Not only were tawaifs being shunned by the British, they were being shunned by the country in which they originated from. This led to a formal ban on female performers in 1998, imposed by Pakistani Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif. And with that, tawaifs being to fade away from history and media. In 2022, Bhansali shed light in prostitution in India, in his 2022 film ‘Gangubai Kathiawadi.’ The film features a star term from Alia Bhatt, and would say that those enjoyed Heeramandi would enjoy this feature equally if not more. It appears that Bhansali seeks to give a voice to these forgotten women, who were imperative in shaping the culture of India.

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‘EastEnders:’ Tackling Racism on Screen

Since January, EastEnders have been building a story about racism surrounding George Knight and his adoptive parents Eddie and Gloria Knight. At the beginning Eddie’s racial biases were hinted at, while his and Gloria’s motivations were unclear. It is only recently that George has learnt that his adoptive father Eddie is on trial for the murder of a black man, Henry Kofi Asare. He returns to his adopted son George, to win him round, to secure him as a character witness that would dispel any myths that the murder was racially motivated.

The episode revolves around three sets of characters, George and Eddie, Gloria and Elaine and Gina and Anna. This allows us to look at perspectives of the younger generation on the same overarching theme.

Before this poignant episode, Eddie’s racist attitudes had been alluded to, through the banter of his friends, and his comments towards Gina. Suggesting that she needed taming and offering her a comb for her afro hair fall into the category of microaggressions, and invasively highlight her different appearance in a negative way. The word ‘tame’ itself is frequently attached to animals. These criticisms imply that Gina is animalistic, wild, and uncontrollable, something Eddie decides based on her appearance. This links to the paternalistic views that were thrown around during colonial times, that people of colour needed looking after, educating, and taming by the west because they could not look after themselves. Their barbarism needed to be reined in.

George reveals to Eddie that he was present for the murder of Henry Kofi Asare, and recognises that he knew what the sound was, knew what the hounding footsteps meant. Asare’s fear mirror that of George’s as a child. They also mirror Gina’s uncomfortableness at Eddie’s party, being the only black face there.

George reveals that while having suspicions, he could never believe that Eddie was racist, as he was his son. This fits into the ‘I can’t be racist because I have black friends’ idea. Prejudice and racism can still be present, but just under the surface. Phrases such as this feel like a cop out and feel performative. Eddie maintains that he protected George, and defended George, but this does not seem that prejudices persist.

George recalls that Eddie’s friends would comment on his hair or ask when he would go back home, to his ‘own country.’ All these things made George feel even more different than he already was, made him stick out more, made him feel even more out of place. This is not inclusion; this is not acceptance. George was not included in these jokes; he was the object of them.

‘It is not self-pity to be angry about the way you have been treated. To be confused, or lost,’ George says. Growing up, that’s what George was. And as a young person of colour, we can be scared to speak out, for fear of being accused of being woke, or for fear of being accused of playing the race card.

Gloria appeals to Elaine on an emotional level throughout the episode, but Elaine is quick to question. Gloria reveals that, when adopting George, she did not see his skin colour. She notes that, while pushing George’s pram, she would walk slowly, to endure the racial slurs, which does emphasise Gloria’s strength, and devotion to George. Gloria even tries to learn about George’s culture by taking a book out of the library, which Eddie throws in the bin, claiming that George needs to ‘fit in.’ What he means by this, is that George needs to be to conform, to suppress aspects of his culture and personality to appease the masses. This is not inclusion, or integration, as the only way George can integrate is by dispensing with a core part of his being.

Gloria praises Eddie for protecting them. However, it is revealed throughout the episode that this was out of love for Gloria and bred by Eddie’s conception of what a ‘man’ should be, and how they should behave – not out of his love for George.

I would like to take a second to praise Elaine, her staunch, and fierce, loyalty to George and his daughters is incredibly heart-warming – the ally that we all need.

For me, as a young person of colour, the conversations between Gina and Anna are the most interesting. Anna has always had a more childish naivete than Gina, and it is in part punctured in this episode. What plays out is Anna’s realisation that not everybody is equal, as Gina attempts to make her see Eddie’s true colours.

Gina criticises Anna for calling Eddie’s views ‘old fashioned,’ saying that she is ‘too scared to call it what it is.’ I would not want to believe that someone is being racist to me. We are told today that it is better, and racism is taught in much more explicit forms. Racial ignorance and microaggressions go unchecked. Racism is not just using explicit slurs, but spreads in subtler forms. Gina believes that Anna is in denial and is blind to it. Sometimes it will only occur to us later, when we think back to it, and we will wonder, should we have said something, do we have a RIGHT to say anything… we question ourselves and go round in circles. What is the risk if we do say anything? Gina is trying to end that cycle for Anna here.  

Gina tells Anna that her hair, clothes, and demeanour mean that Eddie treat her differently, and more favourably. Gina notes that ‘butter wouldn’t melt,’ implying that the perceived obedience and cordiality that Anna gives off is what makes Eddie approve of her. Gina goes further to say that Anna can ‘pass’ as white. While genetically, both Anna and Gina are mixed race, Gina points out that the world cannot see this, they can only see what is on the surface.

Gina does recognise the nuance also and argues that she is treated differently to women with darker skin. Although I am not black myself, this does translate to South Asians too. Fairer skin is favoured, in part due to the caste system that exists in India, and in part to colonialism. Those of lower castes would work outside all day, and therefore be more tanned –  this was a visual signifier to their low social standing. During colonial times, people of colour were looked down upon in all respects. Whiteness was seen as the ideal, the pinnacle of beauty and social status.

Gina brings up the fact that people ask to touch her hair – which may not seem an issue to some people. However, I doubt the reverse exists. This invasiveness only others Gina even more and points out her difference. People believing that they can touch her links to her overall view that people feel ‘entitled’ to her body. Boys saying that they have never dated a black girl before, and that she must be ‘wild’ in bed is something that persists for people of colour. Assumptions are being made based on race, which is not appropriate. The reverse would certainly not be acceptable. These kinds of comments and assertions do not put everyone on equal footing.

Racial and cultural ignorance is also a hard thing to contend with. Personally, I am happy for people to ask questions, but assumptions are less welcome, quite simply for the fact that they are not polite. When I think of comments that I have heard or received, and I imagine flipping it to the other way around, I do not think that they would be taken well, and I personally could not imagine throwing blind assumptions around about people. So, what is the difference? Kindness and empathy are universal, that should not just vanish when speaking to a person of colour. Especially when outnumbered, conversations can become tricker when we must educate the masses. It does increase the pressure on us, in part not to get it wrong, but the responsibility itself is pressure. And if other people say that we should not feel responsible to correct and check others, we ask ourselves, well, who else is going to look into this for us? Who else is going to be fighting our corner and protecting our interests? Who else understands our experiences?

While Anna points out that Gina is tough enough to contend with this racism, Gina makes her realise that she has HAD to be, because of the racism that she has faced. It is not a natural character trait that she possesses, but something that she has been forced to develop in the face of prejudice. Finally, Gina’s feistiness and spikiness is explained.         

The lines between the two sisters are harshly marked when Gina notes that Anna’s bullying stopped at school because she ‘dyed her hair, then straightened it.’ Anna protests that this was not deliberate, she just prefers it – but Gina struggles to see this as genuine because their mother, Cindy, is white, and she believes Anna changed herself to be like her. Perhaps Anna did do that, not to become more white to avoid racial abuse, but purely to perhaps look like her mother and feel closer to her.

This conversation in my opinion is toxic both ways, and the sisters’ lack of communication on the subject makes for an interesting dynamic to their relationship. It is harsh for Gina to carry this idea that Anna has purposefully made herself whiter to fit in, and she harbours resentment towards Anna because of it. Both girls are mixed race, despite both presenting differently. Gina’s chastising of Anna could be seen as her telling Anna that she is less black than she is, which does diminish her cultural identity.

Anna points this out, accusing Gina of making her feel like she ‘doesn’t belong.’ Gina wrongfully falls into her own trap when trying to calm Anna, by telling her that she is ‘overreacting.’ She dismisses Anna, and her racial concerns, as so many people of colour have been dismissed in the past.

It transpires that, while Eddie does harbour racist attitudes, his primary reason for murdering Asare was to protect Gloria. Eddie maintained throughout the episode that he was doing right by Gloria, and to save her pain, he dispensed with the man that would take their son away, Asare, George’s birth father. This complicates the story for the characters involved and is effective in a soap opera as multiple perspectives are exposed.

The ramifications of this ground-breaking episode are still being felt, so we will have to keep watching to see how it plays out.

EastEnders managed to deliver a thoughtful episode, packed with plot and character development plus a huge soap opera style cliff-hanger. An episode for the ages.

Thanks for reading!

Karen Shetty in ‘Mean Girls’ 2024: Representation, Reflection and Progression

When I spotted that Avantika Vandanapu, known professionally as Avantika, had joined the cast of 2024’s musical ‘Mean Girls,’ I admit that I was surprised. Although it is less rare to see South Asian actors in Hollywood roles than previously, it is still rarer to see them in leading roles. I was also surprised at the immediate racist backlash that Avantika received.

As a younger person of colour who was born in this country, I would not say that I have experienced the extreme racism that previous generations have received, although it does creep up in subtler forms. Avantika received comments such as ‘why is one brown,’ ‘imagine getting bullied by an Indian girl’ and ‘the head wobble would scare me the most.’ Avantika shared them on her social media to highlight the issue and received great support, especially from her fellow South Asians – and rightly so. I would not be surprised if more South Asians went to see the film because of her presence, myself included.

Avantika’s presence in the teen classic, paired with the backlash received made me realise the significance of her casting, something that she herself has discussed in the press tour. A point that came up was the character’s name, and to reflect Avantika’s South Indian heritage, Karen Smith transformed into Karen Shetty. Names is always something that I have focussed on, and I debated whether Karen’s first name should be changed as well. However, Karen Smith is an iconic character, and it does seem quite ground-breaking that an iconic character played by a Caucasian actress can be taken on by a South Asian one, Avantika herself pointed this out. I do not believe that this works in all genres, especially when cultural background is relevant.

For a teen comedy satire, Karen’s South Asian heritage does not influence the plot per say, so I would personally allow for more lenience. In ‘Bridgerton’ it is a massive plot point that the Sharma sisters have arrived from India, so if they had no ounce of culture whatsoever the entire point in which their story was predicated on to me would not make much sense. In soap operas, which try to accurately reflect communities, an Asian family without a hint of culture to me would seem unrealistic, and nothing more than a tickbox. It would also be a missed opportunity for storylines, and the chance to educate the masses.

Avantika is right in saying that the name ‘Karen’ does stand on its own. The real stroke of genius is the changing of Smith to Shetty. This shows extra care, as Shetty is a distinctly South Indian name. As Asians, we do have a general sense of where Indian people are specifically from, from their features to their speech. To me, Avantika looks South Indian, so a surname from another region of India would raise my eyebrows. This ‘specificity’ which Avantika notes that South Asians often lack in film, means that her casting is not a tick box, but more authentic and reflective of her personal heritage. This effort should be commended. The default Asian names that are repeatedly used again because they are the first ones that pop into peoples’ heads have not cropped up here. Credit to Tina Fey for starting this conversation.

Karen Shetty is not the typical Asian female that we see on screen. There is the downtrodden, oppressed stereotype, or the nerdy schoolgirl with braces and plaits. And yes, these stereotypes come from somewhere, but for the sake of how we live our lives in the 21st century, and more importantly how other people perceive us, this should not be the norm in media. Some Asians may be disheartened that she portrays the ‘dumb promiscuous’ third of the Plastics, but on the flip side, this could be a positive change. We rarely celebrate women, let alone Asian women in their endeavours to be exactly who they want to be. As an South Asian man, I recognise that Asian women are subject to very different pressures, from society and the community. Karen Shetty is unapologetically herself, and, by and large, she is celebrated for it. This is something young women, and by extension, all young people struggle with today. Karen’s number, ‘Sexy’ highlights the progressive nature of the character. She proudly sings that she can be ‘sexy,’ and can be whoever she wants to be. Karen is confident in this way. While she is known for being promiscuous, it is only Regina who uses this is ammo, and Karen is visibly hurt by it. If Karen is being safe… is it any business of anyone else’s to comment on? Should women be slut shaming other women?

Karen is also celebrated for her beauty and popularity. Essentially, Karen’s spot in the Plastics celebrates South Asian beauty, unlike the original film. Beauty is currency at North Shore high, majority of Regina’s Queen Bee status comes from her beauty, Janis cites it as her ‘only achievement.’ Regina invites Cady into her clique because Cady is also pretty, and she is therefore a threat. If other people catch onto this fact, Cady could be a rival. Karen’s presence in the Plastics means that perfection is not just skinny and blonde. In a world where fairer skin Asians are favoured, Bollywood stars skin increasingly seems to get lighter, Avantika’s darker skin tone and presence is a triumph, as well as her long, curly hair. Bridgerton also does well in this category. Some South Asian women feel the need to straighten, or ‘tame,’ their natural curls, as to not appear ‘messy’ by Western standards. This is a hang-up of colonialism. Despite the toxicity of the Plastics, we have a South Asian girl who is desirable, people want her, and people want to be her. I cannot think of another film where this is highlighted so explicitly and do believe that it is rare in Western films.

Interestingly, Karen’s dress sense also seems more youthful than the others, as a reflection of her childish innocence. Karen wears pins and clips in her hair for decoration, and frequently wears pastel colours to reflect her childish innocence and wide-eyed wonder. Her unique style complements her ideology that she can be who she wants and is comfortable in her own skin. Take Karen’s Halloween costume, it is pink, it is more girlish and childish than Gretchen’s catsuit and Regina’s vulture. Gretchen does not have Karen’s confidence, and she only feels that she has value if she is in Regina’s favour. Her preppy style and darker tones seem more mature than Karen because Gretchen wants to be taken seriously, and seen as an equal to Regina. Karen is more concerned with being herself than anyone’s equal. Regina’s style is sexier than her counterparts, and includes corsets and black leather. She uses her clothes to stand out and exemplify her beauty, because, as previously mentioned, beauty is currency at North Shore. Also, black clothes are rarely seen in the film, and, from her first appearance, cements Regina’s status as a dangerous force, akin to a Black Widow Spider.

While her childish and naïve nature does sometimes affect her intelligence, Karen possesses a love and empathy that no other character in the film possesses. She is not unkind like the other girls and does not have ulterior motives like Regina and Gretchen. When Cady’s Mean Girl era blows up in her face, Karen is the only one to assure her that she is there for her, and still friends. The entire point of the film, that we should be kind to one another is embodied by Karen throughout the film, people just do not take her seriously enough to notice it. She is side-lined due to her lack of intelligence, but, and although I doubt this was intended, an Asian voice being drowned out and side-lined is nothing new in Western society. Karen’s kindness and empathy alludes that of everyone else. While her empathy, unlike her beauty is not massively celebrated in the film, eagled eyed moviegoers would recognise that Karen gets the last laugh, and comes out of the whole affair relatively unscathed. Her belief system is championed and parroted by Cady at Prom.

Avantika and Tina Fey have managed to put together a character that is representative, progressive, empathetic, comedic, reflective, and celebratory of modern, Asian female independence.

Now that IS fetch.

Thanks for reading!

‘Nagina’ 1986: An Analysis

‘Nagina,’ was released in 1986 and is now seen as a watershed moment in Indian cinema. Sridevi’s turn as Rajni, an ichchadhari naagin, proved that a woman-centric move could be a commercial success. The film centres around the relationship between Rajni and Rajiv, played by Rishi Kapoor, as they battle against Amrish Puri’s villainous Bhairon Nath. In Indian folklore, ichchadhari naagin’s are shape-shifting cobras and devotees of Shiva, and have taken on a whole film genre on their own.

The film itself is quite gothic in tone, and Rajni herself figures as a gothic heroine. We first find Rajni, in human form, at Rajiv’s abandoned, ancestral home. The idea of a building in disrepair, along with a family and empire with it, is a classic gothic trope, and presents mystery and secrets to the viewer. Especially when tied to Indian folklore the presence of ruins links to the idea of ancient ritual, something that Rajni and later Bhairo Nath adhere to. The ruins remain untouched, a physical reminder of a past that does not move, forever haunting and impeaching on the present. This is also personified in Rajni.


Rajni’s status as a naagin blurs the lines between appearance and reality, she is both snake and human at the same time. Although we physically see her change in the film, her life as a snake, and later as the wife of Rajiv are forever intertwined. While in human form, Rajni’s snake like persona is signalled with turquoise eyes. She first appears wearing white and pink. This marks her clearly against the grey of the ruins, and despite being a snake, implies the purity and good nature of her intentions. White is also commonly worn by widows, foreshadowing the later revelation that Rajni is mourning her snake husband. Her youthful nature also contrasts the desolate nature of the ruins.

Through years of meditation, Rajni has acquired the ability to shapeshift, whereas in folklore, it is through penance that Lord Shiva that grants this quality. Naagins also possess a Naagmani, a precious stone, which is referenced in the film and the object of Bhairo Nath’s desires. Like in the film, upon hearing the music of a snake charmer, naagins lose control of themselves and return to their snake form. It is the climactic dance sequence in the film, ‘Main Tera Dushman’ that references this note, and blurs the lines between woman and snake, as, in her human form, Rajni dances like a snake.

Identity is a prevalent theme throughout the film, especially for Rajni. She can choose her physical identity through her ability to shapeshift, however who she wants to be as a person comes from her mind. She chooses to identify as the devoted wife of Rajiv, and when facing off with Bhairo Nath she asserts that the divine power she draws from this role is her greatest strength. Perhaps her strength comes from the love and family unit that she is now surrounded by. Rajni also asserts that she will destroy Bhairo Nath’s ‘identity’ should he harm her husband. While this could be lost in translation, if taken literally, it is worth thinking about. Both and her and Bhairo Nath can change their identities, so perhaps Rajni is threatening to destroy one of his, or in other words, just a part of Bhairo Nath.

Female relationships and maternal love also heavily feature in the film and are explored through Rajni’s role. Rajni is both subversive and traditional. Subversive because she is a snake, but traditional because she chooses to inhabit the role of the dutiful wife and daughter in law. Rajni later tells Rajiv’s mother that the soul of her late snake husband resides in Rajiv, and she initially wanted to kill him to release it. She abandons this plan upon seeing Rajiv’s mothers’ ‘suffering’ and love for him. Rajni maintains that her love for the family will protect them and makes her strong enough to withstand Bhairo Nath. Essentially the bonds of family can break all others and explain the characters’ motivations. Female love influences and alters the plot. It is this presence that sways Rajni’s intentions and gives her enough power to fight Bhairo Nath, even though he is more powerful than her.

Rajni uses her role as daughter in law to influence and protect Rajiv. At one point in the film, Rajiv is threatened by his ex-lover’s father. Rajni intervenes and distracts him, stopping him from leaving the house and falling into the trap. This displays her domestic power as his wife, as well as her ability to manipulate other snakes to protect her husband.

At the end of the film, Rajiv’s mother is killed by Bhairo Nath while she tries to protect him. It is her motherly love that saves her son, but also kills her. She was originally the obstacle to Rajiv and Rajni’s marriage, and upon finding the truth about Rajni she went to Bhairo Nath for help. With her and Bhairo Nath removed, there is no obstacle to Rajiv and Rajni’s marriage. Rajni also, because of her promise to Rajiv’s mother, destroys the body of her snake husband to stop Bhairo Nath getting the gemstone. Both obstacles are removed, which ensures stability and security of Rajni and Rajiv.

Rajni also tried to save Bhairo Nath, proving her inherent goodness and humanity despite her snakelike form. Bhairo Nath sees this goodness and allows her to remain human. Despite her conflicting identities her human form is cemented permanently, granted because of her morality. By the end of the film, all obstacles to the union of Rajiv and Rajni are removed.

It is never revealed whether Rajiv finds out the truth about Rajni, but perhaps in this instance, ignorance is bliss. The film does state that they live ‘happily ever after,’ which I suppose fits with the ethereal, mystical quality of the film. Shapeshifters frequently appear in fairytales, and like a fairytale the film depicts the triumph of good over evil.

Thanks for reading!

‘Barbie’ 2023: An Analysis

Hi Barbie!

Barbie is well on its way to being the highest grossing film of 2023, and along with Oppenheimer, is probably the most talked about. I was not sure what to expect when I saw the film, but in retrospect I see it as a smart, satirical almost coming of age story that manages to comment on femininity, masculinity, feminism, patriarchy, individuality, and existentialism. Not bad for a film about a plastic doll from the 50s.

The opening scene immediately aims to smash gender norms – literally. We see a bunch of young girls playing with baby dolls, so from a young age, girls are already thinking about motherhood. The arrival of Barbie is seen as a new epoch, a message to young girls that says: you do not have to just play mother, you can be what you like.

We also see this in the opening few scenes, that Barbie in Barbieland can do anything and is everything. From Journalist Barbie to Physicist Barbie, Barbieland is a matriarchal Eden in which women can do anything. In Barbieland, Barbie is every woman. What really messes it all up is the real world.

When comparing Barbieland and the real world, one is clearly a utopia for Barbie, and the other a dystopia. Every day for Barbie in Barbieland is perfect, whereas Ken’s happiness depends purely on Barbie. Barbie quickly learns that women are hindered in the real world, unlike men. It is her learning of the patriarchy that makes her realise that in a way, she has fallen from grace. Barbie and Ken’s travelling to the real world from Barbieland is their fall from grace. We see that like Adam and Eve, who are embarrassed by their nakedness after the Fall, Barbie is particularly conscious and embarrassed because of the male harassment that she faces. The reverse is true for Ken, who finds his utopia in the patriarchal society of the real world.

Barbie learns the harsh realities of the real world, and must fight against them when they bleed into Barbieland. While the patriarchy is one thing, Barbie also learns that she has not been the empowering female figure that she thought she was. Barbieland shows that women can do anything and are, but Barbies controversial presence in the real world relating to inclusivity and body image is put to her quite harshly.

What we see is Barbie having an existential crisis, her entire world, literally and metaphorically, has disappeared from under her, and for the remainder of the film she is left questioning who she is, and what her role is. She is already considering this before she makes the journey to the real world, beginning with her question ‘do you guys ever think about dying?’ Her perfect world is punctured by this thought.

The question of individuality also comes into play here, as while all the Barbies have different jobs and roles, they lack a smidge of individuality because they all have the same name… Barbie. Barbie is trying to find out where she fits… is that not something we all think about?

While Barbie struggles, Ken flourishes in an amusing but dangerous way. Going back to Adam and Eve, in the Bible Eve is created for and from Adam, in the film Ken occupies this position. Ken is Barbie’s inferior; he represents the underclass – he exists only for Barbie. ‘She’s everything. He’s just Ken,’ as it says on the poster. He is nothing compared to her, and nothing without her. What he learns from the real world is that he can be the opposite, he can gain respect, and, because of the patriarchy, he feels he deserves it without earning it, by nature of being a man. The film shows how the patriarchy can spread, and how harmful ideas about toxic masculinity can infect the lost or the vulnerable, Ken is both. It is his insecurity that makes the idea of the patriarchy attractive to him.

It is only at the end of the film that Barbie helps him realise that he can be who he wants, and encourages him to find that, in the same way that in Barbieland, the Barbies could be whatever they wanted. The film encourages men and women to understand and listen to each other better, so while it comments on the gender divide and recognises it, it also works to heal it. The Barbie’s agree at the end of the film that some Kens should sit on the Supreme Court, advocating not a matriarchy, or a patriarchy but an egalitarian society. Something the real world could learn from. Much like young men, and any human ever, the Kens just need a bit of help and guidance to learn what is right and what is wrong.

Some critics have stated that the film is anti-man, which is a simplistic view. The film is anti-toxic man, which is something we should all be. Toxic masculinity is harmful, Ken proves that, as do we in the real world. In the film, after it is stamped out in Barbieland, an egalitarian society is advocated. I see no problem here.

After encouraging Ken to find out who he is, Barbie must do the same for herself. At the end of the film, she wears a yellow muted dress, her hair is simple, and she sports less make up. She is slowly letting go of her Barbie world. She still looks perfect, as the narrator reminds us, it is Margot Robbie, but unlike the other Barbies that have specific jobs and careers, she holds the mantle of stereotypical Barbie. Her creator, Ruth Handler, reminds her that Barbie was an idea, and ‘ideas live forever.’ In the same way that Barbies can be whatever they want, Margot Robbie’s Barbie can too. Ruth and Barbie’s relationship proves that humans and Barbies can learn from each other.

Margot Robbie’s Barbie sticks to the idea that she can be anything and becomes human. Ideas change and evolve, just as Barbie does. She manages to do the impossible; she is a plastic doll that becomes human. She again reinforces that women can be anything that they want to be, and that if we believe in Barbie, and by extension in ourselves, we can do anything. Barbie becomes human by learning what being a woman truly means, she sees the entire cycle of woman, in a montage, including birth and childhood and motherhood. It is through feeling that she becomes human, and her heart begins to beat, and her true journey of self-discovery begins.[1]

It is at this point where we say, bye Barbie! But do not forget, ideas live forever.

Thanks for reading!

[1] Barbie, dir. Greta Gerwig (Warner Bros, 2023).

Rani Padmavati: In Film and Literature

Rani Padmavati is a legendary Rajput Hindu queen. Her story has been most recently bought to modern audiences by Sanjay Leela Bhansali, in his 2018 film ‘Padmaavat,’ which still remains one of the most expensive Indian films ever made. It tells the story of Rani Padmavati, and focuses on the war that her husband, Ratan Singh (Shahid Kapoor) becomes embroiled in with Muslim Sultan Alauddin Khiliji (Ranveer Singh).

In the film, Khiliji sets his sights on Rani Padmavati, played by Deepika Padukone, after hearing of her legendary beauty. Khiliji captures Singh, but in retaliation, Padmavati agrees to meet with Khiliji if she can see her husband first. He agrees, but instead of meeting Khiliji, she cunningly flees with Singh. Incensed by this, and consumed by his desire to claim Padmavati for his own, Khiliji goes to war with Singh, killing him in a duel. In order to ensure that Khiliji does not emerge victorious, and to protect herself and her honour, Padmavati leads 16,000 women to commit Jauhar – mass self-immolation to escape persecution or capture. It is this act, as well as her beauty, that has cemented her in legend. She is seen as an icon if chastity, and is generally seen as the ideal wife and woman.

The film is based on a Sufi poem written in 1540 by Malik Muhammad Jayasi, which has formed the basis of several different versions of the same story. Historian Ramya Sreenivasan notes that all versions influence each other. Jayasi’s version and the film are broadly similar although there are some details that are omitted. A particular favourite is the inclusion of Hiraman, Padmavati’s talking parrot. In the film, while hunting in Sinhala, modern day Sri Lanka, Padmavati meets Singh by accidentally shooting him with an arrow. In the poem, it is Hiraman that flies to Singh to tell him of Padmavati’s beauty – it is for this reason that he travels to Sinhala to find her. Another difference is the time at which Padmavati commits Jauhar. In the film she hears of her husband’s death, whereas in the poem she goes ahead with her plan once she is assured that defeat by Khiliji is imminent. Speaking of Khiliji, his portrayal in the poem, and his character in real life, varies to that of the film.

It is worth nothing that Singh and Khiliji are both historical figures, and Khiliji’s siege of Singh’s kingdom of Chittor in 1303 is well documented. In the film, Khiliji is greedy, adulterous and ruthless. His desire to possess Padmavati appears to stem from physical desire throughout the film. Historians such as Subimal Chandra Datta note that Khilji’s siege of Chittor was more likely for political gain, not desire for Padmavati. The desire present in the film directly contrasts Singh, Shahid Kapoor’s pious Hindu King. In the poem, and in real life, Khiliji was seen to be honourable and pious, and at the end of the poem is remorseful at the deaths of Singh and Padmavati, noting that man’s insatiable desire is destructive.

The Hindu/Muslim presence in the film is one reason that it caused such controversy. Due to Khiliji’s villainous portrayal, Muslims essentially saw the film as anti-Muslim, and Hindus disliked the idea of Padmavati being portrayed in film. Several Rajput organisations vandalised the set and attacked director Sanjay Leela Bhansali, who also received death threats along with Padukone. The release of the film was delayed, and the name changed from ‘Padmavati’ to ‘Padmaavat.’ Rajputs rejected the idea of having Padmavati involved romantically with Khiliji. No such scene existed, but the rumour caused such a furore that Bhansali released a statement dispelling it. Every character seemed to trigger some sort of political argument.

Back to the heart of the film – Padmavati. Unlike the two ment that fight for her, evidence that she actually existed is scarce. This makes her even more interesting, and powerful in the film. At first I felt that for the first half of the film she was side-lined, a lot of time was dedicated to both men and their feud. This speaks to the wider theme of the patriarchy, as despite her importance and legendary status, she is side-lined by man’s quarrels. It also speaks to the patriarchal nature of days gone by, and throughout the first half of the film Padmavati is not afforded much agency. This does turn when she springs Singh from imprisonment, although the focus then shifts to the duel between Singh and Khiliji.

Her final act is what cements her in legend, and where her power exceeds that of all around her. By committing Jauhar, she ensures that Khiliji’s victory is meaningless and although it costs her dearly, she, more than anyone emerges triumphant and ultimately has the last word. In the film, she leads all women into the frame. All the women wear red, seemingly mimicking the sea of blood spilt by Khiliji’s siege. Padmavati stands out in contrast in pink. He catches a glimpse of her walking into the flames, but is barred just before he can stop her. This only exacerbates the idea that he is obsessed with her, thus confirming her honour and piety.

In a rousing speech to the women, Padmavati states:

“Yeh shareer raakh ho jayega par Amar rahegi Rajputi Shaan, Hamara usool, Hamara swabhimaan, Aur Yahi Alauddin ri Jeevan Ri sabse badi haar hogi”

“This body will turn to ashes but the Rajput honour, our principals and our self-respect will remain intact and this will be the biggest defeat of Alauddin’s life”

Deepika Padukone as Rani Padmavati

She maintains that although they will suffer, their victory is assured in Alauddin’s defeat. It is this assurance that gives her strength. In the film she carries a white cloth with prints of her husband’s hands. This is interpreted as her husband’s permission, allowing her to commit such a grave sacrifice. While the story is epic, and Padmavati’s actions are nothing short of incredible, it does also comment on the history of India and the pain and atrocities that have occurred there. It speaks to the religious divide between Hindus and Muslims, all of which was worsened, especially for women, due to patriarchal ideas. Although it is Padmavati that has the final word, it is still the war waged between Alauddin and Ratan, for whatever reason, that led her into the fire, and by extension, into legend.

Thanks for reading!

Panjabi Representation in ‘Eastenders’: The Panesars

When EastEnders announced that they were introducing a Sikh Panjabi family in 2019 I will admit that I was surprised. Usually, Asian characters and/or families on screen were either Hindu or Muslim. When I was younger, if I did not fit into the category of Hindu or Muslim then people would be at a loss, prompting them to ask ‘well… what are you then?’ So, the prospect of having my religion and culture represented on a mainstream soap opera was exciting but also concerning.

Before the representation debate became a thing, I would probably say that I was bothered by it but unconsciously. Say if my family and I spotted a Sikh person on television, we would all stop, fall silent and rewind. The most we got was probably an extra on the market in EastEnders, but rest assured, that cameo would come up in conversation when chatting to other family members the next day.

Upon their announcement, what struck me most about the family were their authentic Panjabi names. I can name countless examples of Asian actors/actresses appearing on screen as westernised characters with Caucasian names. This of course happens in real life, but in my opinion, disproportionately. And, if an Asian name is used it may not always be correct. As in, it may not correctly communicate the characters’ cultural heritage. In Asian culture, names can tell us as much as where the family is from, their religion and their caste. The Panesar family comprises of parents Sukhwinder and Nishandeep, and their children Kheerat, Ashneet, Parvinder and Jagvir (plus Ravi and Davinder later down the line). It was obvious to me that the team at EastEnders did their research, as these are quite obviously Sikh Panjabi names, much like my own.

The family also are not listed as Sikh Panjabi for the hell of it – their speech and actions confirm that they are. While I don’t have a turban, like the Panesar’s, I will drop the occasional Panjabi phrase and attend Sikh ceremonies. This is not shied away from in the show, as highlighted by Jagvir’s funeral. The presence of the Gyani, sheets on the floor and the families’ white attire all mirrors the everyday practices of a Sikh funeral. Recently, Suki and Nish had an Ardas for their wedding, which is essentially a blessing. Up until this point, I had never heard or seen any form of Sikh prayers on television before, apart from in the odd documentary or news bulletin.

When introducing any character there is danger of falling into social and cultural stereotypes. Of course, these stereotypes are there for a reason, but EastEnders has worked to ensure that the Panesar’s recognise these, but also add to them. Yes, they own the Minute Mart, and yes, Ashneet is a doctor, like many South Asians out there, but the family also have a property empire and a pest control business. The stereotypes that exist are listened too, but the characters are not totally restricted by them.

The interesting relationship between culture and religion has also been touched upon. While Panjabi’s have a reputation for drinking, for example Kheerat was frequently seen with a whiskey, in the Sikh faith it is frowned upon. Nishandeep and Kheerat have this conversation when the former is released from prison. Whilst Kheerat criticises Nishandeep for cutting off his hair in prison, Nishandeep criticises Kheerat for drinking. Both arguments are valid and recognise the clash between culture and faith. This clash is something that we all navigate in our everyday lives.

Speaking of turbans, the inclusion of Kheerat’s was essential to the character and was used to highlight his faith. When facing a racist shoplifter, as most people of colour in soap opera do, Kheerat informs him that his turban is not a ‘hat’ but a ‘crown.’ As a child, I heard people referring to turbans as hats. While highlighting his pride in his faith, and the power that he draws from it, he lets audience members know the importance and significance of his turban, which may deter ignorance in the future. This is an important thing to remember about soap opera – they do have the ability to educate and influence.

During a scuffle in later scenes, Ravi accidentally tears Kheerat’s turban off. The shock on the Panesar’s’ faces communicates the enormity of what has just happened, a feeling that would have been felt by Sikh viewers. Suki later tells Ravi that he got off ‘lightly,’ informing Ravi and the audience that a Sikh man or woman’s turban should not be disrespected.

While Kheerat made headlines for this, the other Panesar children haven’t had much of the limelight. Vinny has ventured into DJ’ing and has a mobile phone business in the launderette, but other than that he has struggled to venture out of his older brothers’ shadow. I always saw Vinny as a character that spoke to the younger siblings, those that do not quite know what they want to do and might seem a bit different for being more creative and sensitive. Being caught between a businessman and a doctor cannot have been easy. Vinny’s future seems uncertain, and time will only tell if he will be able to, or whether he will even be allowed, to rise to the challenge of filling Kheerat’s shoes.

Conflicting desires and sexualities also seem to be at the heart of the Panesar family, which is refreshing but also risks being repetitive. EastEnders’ Muslim family, the Masood’s struggled to cope with their son, Syed’s, homosexuality; a story which the character is most associated with. Having bisexual characters in the family normalises the idea of South Asians belonging to a sexuality other than heterosexual, and this can only be a good thing. Also, unlike the Masood’s, Ashneet’s bisexuality is accepted by majority of her family, bar her mother… let’s talk about her.

I really did not see Suki’s romance with Eve coming for the simple reason that I never considered it. It has been cooking for a long time now, and while it may not have been intended, I see that storyline as a love letter to South Asian female oppression. Now that Nish has arrived on the Square it is not difficult to see that Suki has been controlled in all aspects of her life – he has already started slicing her out of various business dealings. His return has only catalysed her desire to be with Eve, which will no doubt have disastrous consequences when Nishandeep finds out.

All in all, I can only the praise the team at EastEnders for the work that they have put into the Panesar’s. Whilst ensuring that their culture and faith remains relevant to their characters, they have also embedded them into the fabric of the Square by allowing them to contribute to other people’s storylines as well as hold their own.

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‘Blonde’ 2022: Some Thoughts

Andrew Dominik’s latest film, ‘Blonde,’ centres around the life of Marilyn Monroe, and since its release it has caused some serious controversy. Generally critics are mixed in their reviews of the film, of which the defining feature seems to be Ana de Armas’s visceral, if not slightly haunting, performance. On a general note, the film itself is shot and organised differently. The lack of a linear narrative makes the film more immersive, but also harder to get a clearer grip on the story and Marilyn… which I suppose mirrors her real-life mystery. Maybe this lack of clarity was meant to reflect Marilyn’s fragile state of mind, especially towards the end of the film. Whether the film successfully got into Marilyn’s psyche is still under debate, but in the meantime, let’s have a look at some other moments in the film.

The film opens in black and white, a trick used by Dominik throughout the film. This seems to indicate particularly low moments in Marilyn’s life, perhaps explaining why her childhood is only seen in black and white. A theme that endures from this point in the film is the debate about who her father is, and her abandonment by her mother. This theme resurfaces throughout the film in Marilyn’s calling of her husband’s ‘daddy’ and her general questioning about her lineage. While other people’s influence on Marilyn throughout the film ebb and flow, the figure of her father remains, in a somewhat overbearing way. Already Marilyn is slave to the thought/memory of a man. Another theme that endures.

The use of black and white also adds to the nightmarish, and almost horrific, nature of the film. Monroe screams and wails frequently, as if she is featuring in some kind of horror film. The irony is, the horror film, as we are told to believe, is actually her life. The scenes with her mother evoke that of horror a film, as well as her abortion. Surrounded by men, as she is for majority of the film, Marilyn is subject, and almost forced, into having an abortion. She runs away in terror, whilst still in her hospital gown and struggles to find a way out. It reads like a scene in a horror film where the heroine is being subject to some sort of lobotomy and cannot break free.

Speaking of the abortion stuff.

Seeing the baby, and having it to talk to Marilyn is very strange, and only adds to her suffering. The second baby berates Marilyn for aborting the first one, and asks her ‘you won’t hurt me this time will you?’ It claims it’s the same egg, only making Marilyn suffer further through her guilty. I am not sure what this adds to the film, and am unsure how relevant it is, especially when there are bigger machines out there that cause Marilyn’s distress. These should be focused on and held to account. The way in which she miscarries this child also feels unfair. She trips and falls accidentally, which results in her miscarriage. Yet again, the use of the baby in the womb serves only to make Marilyn look guilty of killing her child, adding even more to her downward spiral.

Even though, in the aforementioned abortion scene, the focus is on Marilyn’s abortion, she is heavily exploited in this scene. There is one shot where, we see the doctor performing the abortion, from inside Marilyn. It is quite uncomfortable, and makes the audience wonder where interest becomes obsession. Do we really need to see inside Marilyn? Surely that interest is going a bit too far.

The film is pretty much seen through the male gaze, with Marilyn being the focus and centre. The scene where she stands on the grate, and her skirt billows, goes on for quite a while, panning from her legs to the male spectators. We know what the shot is, we know how she was perceived in her films, in which she portrayed fictional characters, do we need that as well to such a degree in a biopic… if we can describe this film as a biopic. The frequent nudity links to this as well, and as well as exploiting Marilyn, it exploits de Armas, as it is her body on screen.

Take the JFK scene for example. It feels unnecessarily graphic, we do not really need to see Marilyn fellating JFK, Dominik could have used other techniques to suggest that that is what happened. There is no conclusive evidence to say that this happened in real life, so from this scene it is unclear what Dominik was trying to accomplish. It does not allow Monroe or her memory any dignity. If he was trying to highlight Marilyn’s exploitation and suffering, then every other moment in the film ticked that box.

The film does not allow her much agency, so instead all we see is her suffering at the hands of one man, and then another. The difficulty is, if Dominik is trying to be true to life, then he probably has it right. However, the film is not true to life in some respects and cannot be hailed as a traditional biopic. Perhaps for this reason, Dominik should have tried to allow Marilyn some agency and some dignity, instead of infantilising her for over two hours. Not once is it mentioned that she set up her own production company, a plot point that has historical basis, and gives Marilyn the agency to push back against the men who wronged her.

So, in conclusion I am not really sure what to make of it all. This is probably down to the nature of the film as mentioned before, it is not a traditional biopic, it does not have a strongly linear narrative, and because of my reservations I am unsure what the filming is trying to achieve if anything. It does try to offer a window into Monroe’s life, the window itself being painted with the male gaze. What I am sure of though, is that it does not prioritise the subject… at times it side-lines her, robs her of dignity and ultimately turns her into a passive figure… when it does not need to do that ALL of the time. Dominik’s Marilyn is effectively the characters that she played onscreen, a breathy, blonde bombshell. Not much else is added to her, she is not multidimensional. That is probably the greatest flaw of the film. After over two hours, Marilyn remains a mystery… and maybe one best left alone.

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