It's amusing how our cinema is still predominantly stuck with the vestigial ideas of patriarchy. Very few feminine voices have actually garnered attention through their cinema and amongst the very few that have, only a few actually manage to narrate with authenticity. The real hope for Indian cinema lies in the small independent cinema scene. It is a matter of utmost pride that Roopa Rao, a young director in Kannada has managed to pull out something with such authenticity and charm through her debut film, Gantumoote . The film is precious in so many ways.
Whilst our commercial cinema is over burdened with toxic masculinity and its broken sense of morality, here is a film that celebrates the female gaze. A woman narrates her idea of romance and heartbreak without any inhibitions or forcing itself to be confined to archaic film formulas. This is a beautiful coming-of-age story of a young school going girl who discovers life, love and loss. The movie is set in the 90s and simple elements like a classmate calling on a neighbour’s landline, the Hum Apke Hain Kaun craze etc are all sure to ignite nostalgia in many a viewers. The real beauty of the film though is in the narrative. The unabashed, unapologetic journey of a girl finding passion and exploring it without inhibition. The camera here gazes at the male body through the female gaze. It is her stare, her pursuit and her passion in play here. The cinema understands and disrobes the real world through this very unique feminine gaze.
There is no unwanted drama, the protagonist is not a victim, she is not bowed down by patriarchy, but she stands despite of it all. She is emotionally and physically strong enough to go back to the cinema hall where she was sexually harassed, just because she loves cinema. She learns to deal with peer abuse too. When she is slut shamed, she ventures into the etymology of the word and finds peace whilst declaring that this sexist term must not be given the attention or importance that everyone generally grants it. After all, prostitution is a profession too, so what now? She can stare at the boy she is attracted to, express her desire to him without the fear or moral judgement and also say ‘No’ when she does not want to concede. She admires the sobriety of her lover and appreciates his nuanced understanding of peace, vis-a-vis his need to be toxically masculine and constantly expressing his machismo. She discovers that unlike the movies, in real life she can stand for herself and that she needs no male protector.
Meera (brilliantly portrayed by Teju Belawadi) introspects on the streets of Jayanagar, like you and me. She is as human as you and me. There is nothing larger than life about her and that is the most endearing aspect of the film. Just like she celebrates finding love, she suffers loneliness and the hopelessness that comes with heartbreak in myriad ways. Her soul begins to shatter while she watches her love interest spiralling down the depression alley. Even a nuanced and gentle soul like Madhu (her lover played by Nischit Korodi), is susceptible to patriarchal ego. He cannot bare with the fact that his girlfriend is successful and that he is a failure. The gaze here is not only towards objectification of the male body, but the gaze here meditates also on cinema, everyday life, education system and the loss of innocence.
Technically, the film is honest and minimalistic. The only drawback of the film is, the music. The music is totally disconnected from the film and fails to add anything to the storytelling. The closeups bring a sense of uncomfortable reality into the narrative and that adds so much value to the aesthetic structure of this film also. The steady camera movements add to the turmoil of the characters and the overall atmospherics is restrained and beautiful. The pace of the movie is pure poetry and allows the viewer to dwell into the protagonist’s journey. The undercurrent of feministic ideology is fed with so much seasoning, that nobody would realise that they have consumed it with empathy and love. The finale of the film leaves every viewer with a sense of emotional vulnerability and profound warmth. It makes you feel full, and empty at the same time.
