Paradha Movie review:

It takes a lot of courage to cast the lead actor of Tillu Square and have her face covered for nearly half of your film’s runtime. To have to gauge the protagonist Subbu’s emotions as she embarks on a high-stakes journey, you have to really pay attention to her body language and read between the lines to be emotionally invested in her journey. Even when Subbu (a brilliant Anupama Parmeswaran) finally lets go of the veil, there is no attempt to glamourise her. But then, Praveen Kandregula’s Paradha is a risky film from the word go — it’s risky on paper, and in execution, and the film is sincere and impactful in its attempt to break new ground. For most parts atleast. 

Director: Praveen Kandregula

Cast: Anupama Parmeswaran, Sangitha Krish, Darshana Rajendran, Rag Mayur, Harsha Vardhan

Rating: 3.5 stars

The intent is clear here. Using a backdrop of a fictional village following a fictional (yet relatable) set of rituals, Paradha wants to explore the ideas of patriarchal conditioning, societal rules, free will, the lines where these intersect, and whether they should intersect at all. When a young girl insists she wants to play outside (even within the local rules, it’s permissible), she is reprimanded and denied her right, only to be smilingly told to choose a Mehendi design instead. Despite following all the rules, Subbu still finds herself labelled as ‘Ilanti Ammayi’ (this kind of woman) by her village heads. 

The opening scene of Paradha is a wonder — with an elaborate playout at a village mela, the writers introduce us to the key figures and their interpersonal dynamics. There is great world-building in this sequence alone than in most big-scale spectacles in their entire runtime. The early stretches struggle a bit with pacing, especially with its ambitious world-building goals and setting up the conflict of Subbu, who leaves in search of that one man who changed her life for the worse. 

Paradha makes space for all shades of femininity. Amishta (Darshana Rajendran), the reluctant catalyst in Subbu’s journey of self-actualisation, is a strong-headed independent woman, but she is no saint either. When an intern asks for menstrual leave, Amishta asks her to toughen up. When she agrees to help Subbu and Ratna, it still stems from a selfish need for time off from a toxic workplace. Darshana brings great freshness to the part, capturing Amishta’s skepticism without making her caricaturish. On the other hand, Subbu is a woman of strength and resilience, despite her conformity. When she is discussing the chaos back in the village, Subbu is clear she won’t apologise. She will go to all lengths to prove herself, but she won’t apologise.

Rathnamma (Sangitha Krish) is another fascinating figure — a married woman who can put up a fight for Subbu against all villagers, but not for herself. Rathnamma’s phone call sequences with her husband (did we have a name? If not, all the better) make for the funniest moments in the movie (including a scene where Rathnamma hilariously pretends to be her fictional ailing aunt), as she charts her journey from facade to guilt to pushback against her oppressive husband. Harshavardhan as Rathnamma’s husband is a great addition to the narrative because these moments capture the film’s themes with a great balance of text and tone — something which the film struggles to do otherwise. 

Unlike Praveen’s previous ingenious directorial Subham, Paradha doesn't always succeed in blending the messaging and tone. Here, after a point, the narrative becomes confined as a medium for its message. The film wants to say many things about patriarchy, societal conditioning, and feminism, and the only downside is, we are acutely aware of it each time it says something. There is a lot of nobility in it, but little magic. It’s a classic three-act structure, following the lives of three separate protagonists. Towards the end of second act and the beginning of third, Paradha begins to look like a series of statements under a garb of thinly veiled scenes. Be it the scene between Amishta and an army official who embraces conventional femininity, or an angsty phone call between Rathnamma and her husband, they are touchingly progressive, but are overwhelmingly verbose. 

Paradha is beautiful to look at (incredible framing and use of colors by cinematographer Mridul Sujit Sen). The blocking is inventive, and the frames consistently engage you. The pretty frames continue to thrive in the second half, except here they are channeled as a form of symbolic expression of its themes, rather than attempting to capture its atmosphere. Gopi Sundar’s music is dramatic, rousing, yet also almost overpowering — pretty much in sync with Praveen’s directorial choices here. The powerful climactic sequence, shot with great visual poetry, remains familiar nonetheless. Our protagonist has risen against all odds to question the system that oppressed her for so long, and in doing that, she becomes a guiding light herself.

The film is at its best around the half-point mark when we have Subbu, Rathnamma, and Amishta as three ordinary women sharing space, bickering, and discussing many things (with a lot of banter), like Subbu’s veil and her belief system by extension. They eventually reach a point where the arguments are not about men and society alone — these women are just there, talking. For a while, Paradha is also a road movie. In this journey, there is a stretch where the three women are just waiting for the landslide to clear, and Subbu says, “I just want to stay on the road a little longer.” When was the last film where you watched women just occupy the centre stage and live their lives without any expectations, barriers, or a male gaze? 

In one of the sequences, an army official tells Amishta, “Women have to be understanding of each other, because men can never empathise.” For an industry that largely caters to men as its primary audience, Paradha is a brave, brave piece of cinema, and we need more like it, despite its handful of hiccups. Why should only hero-driven stories have all the flaws?