Legendary actor-filmmaker Kamal Haasan often says that cinema is the most democratic of professions. Anyone can become someone in this field, and if they are persistent enough, they could even perch themselves right at the top of this world’s order. The allure of cinema stems from the seeming randomness of the people chosen from the millions who try to find their place in this world. Of course, there is nepotism, being at the right place at the right time, and even random strokes of luck. But that doesn’t stop anyone from thinking that they could be the next big thing in cinema. Democracy, indeed.
Even though there used to be seemingly no restrictions on the kind of talent that appeared on camera, the situation is very different for the other avenues. And if there’s one field in cinema where access to resources and the right platform played a huge part, it is film criticism. Before social media took our world by storm, there was only a certain kind of voice that rang loud when it came to film reviews, and a certain kind of person who could be a film critic. Before the pandemic created a lot of free time for many and opened their eyes to content that wasn’t manicured for their comfort, film criticism was a fortress with high walls. Probably why many today scoff at the high-handedness that has become synonymous with critics and criticism. Of course, the brick-by-brick demolition of this fortress didn’t start during the pandemic. It has been happening over the years, and the lockdown just accelerated it.
Often, there is a watershed moment where everything crumbles to the ground. While the responses to the two Dhurandhar films might be seen as the defining moment, the actual breakdown occurred in Purba Medinipur, a coastal district in West Bengal. Pujarini Pradhan, the person behind the Instagram handle ‘Life of Pujaa’, is the culmination of years of film criticism being democratised, thanks to social media giving many such voices a platform that was previously completely out of question.
Be it Orkut, Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram, these platforms have now ensured that authentic voices find an audience. You didn’t need fancy posters on the wall, AI-generated edits, high-profile collabs, or even flowery and poetic language to be taken seriously. Plastered walls, prosaic language, and a simple demeanour were enough. We have seen many homegrown video reviewers, without the backing of a mainstream publication, become important voices of the post-social media era. But Pujarini is different. She wasn’t just a film critic or a movie reviewer; she was doing it while being a housewife, a mother, a daughter-in-law, and a rank outsider.
Many of us get squeamish whenever a rank outsider breaks down the manufactured walls and gets into a field often considered to be the bastion of a select few. We like to celebrate them ironically, but the moment they become mainstream, we think it is time to show them their place. Probably why the internet was up in arms the past couple of days after a couple of influencers decided to give their two cents about Pujarini and her 'manufactured authenticity'. They questioned her USP and pointed out that her content wasn’t all her, but an agency backing her and providing her with resources to be ‘simple’. Her income, her authenticity, her book-reading habits, her cinema-watching habits, her editing capabilities… Basically, everything about Pujarini was questioned. But it raises an all-important question that rules them all: Why did it become a major concern in the first place?
Why are her movie recommendations being put under scrutiny? Why bother if this saree-wearing, shakha-donning, sindoor-sporting woman from East Midnapore is recommending David Lynch? Why are influencers calling out such an influencer whose influence isn’t making people do anything else but watch more movies, read more books, understand casteism, and come to terms with intersectional feminism?
We hardly see these influencers do such a deep-dive analysis of other rural content creators who sing, dance, or cook, etc., and have more followers than Pujarini. Of course, most influencers ride the tide on what’s trending to be in the trend. It is understandable why Pujarini was being discussed. But make no mistake, this 'analysis' happened mainly because she was becoming famous in a field that no one expected her to be in, and was doing it in a language no one expected her to be proficient in.
When Pujarini spoke about living in a simple home in Midnapore, people found it sweet. When she discussed her makeup routines, people found it charming. When she delved deep into the lives of villagers and how it is limiting by default, people found it real. When she gave glimpses of her everyday life and shared interesting recipes, people found it warm. When she talked about being married at a young age and learning the ropes of homemaking, people found it uplifting. But then… she decided to do something that didn’t fit the elite’s image of a rural woman: she spoke about cinema and literature, and did so with a conviction that was missing in many.
Now, of course, it might have been just a couple of influencers who decided to analyse Pujarini for the rest of us. However, these opinions don’t exist in a vacuum. It is a culmination of many such voices that question Pujarini’s place in this ecosystem. She became famous for the things that some thought they had a monopoly on. When that status quo is questioned, everyone becomes defensive. These influencers put words to the thoughts of many, which is why others have called them out for this blatant prejudice. They came for her language before, and authenticity now. Not sure what's in store in the future. It was almost as if many were waiting for Pujarini to take one step wrong to remind her of her place, and when that didn't happen, they manufactured a narrative. In response, she posted a really smart video that said what needed to be said without belittling her detractors, and she didn't explicitly elevate herself either.
But why did she receive such widespread support? How did Life of Pujaa do the rare feat of uniting most of the internet? In a time when uniformity and toeing the popular discourse are becoming the only acceptable forms of criticism, you need people like her who can say, “Do you think you need to be super intelligent or super intellectual to understand someone’s filmography? I don’t think so. Sometimes, you don’t have to understand everything. You just have to start somewhere.”