Network Past Issues

The darkness of Pink

A movie that challenges the concept of the ‘fast’ Indian woman kicking up herheels and living the high life has been long overdue

A film that dares its viewer to look it in the eye is deceptively called Pink. Pink is a colour of prettiness, of gurgly baby cuteness. Yet Pink is neither cute nor pretty. Rather, it is a curt reminder of the way society – read Indian society – devalues feminity. When the police lands up in a “decent” South Delhi locality to arrest a young working woman living with two flat mates for “assaulting” a well-connected goon the buzz regarding “this is what to expect when girls live by themselves” says it all. No matter what happens, no matter whose fault it is, simply pin the blame on the fairer sex. So convenient.

Pink happens to be one of those movies that sit uneasily on the Indian (especially Indian male) psyche since it asks uncomfortable questions. Some of them are: does wearing short or skimpy clothes make a woman an easy prey? And if she drinks or lights up a cigarette in public – or otherwise – does she deserve undesired attention or worse?

One of the things about Pink is its refreshing lack of moralizing and preachiness. It shows without telling. Telling too much, that is. The tautness of the script and clever direction keep the viewer glued to the seat from the first scene, from the opening credits in fact. Three young women are seen rushing home in a cab in a condition so disturbed that none are talking, only interacting in monosyllables. It isn’t difficult to guess that these women had been out on a night of revelry that went horribly wrong. At the same time, a group of men are rushing to a hospital swearing to high heavens. One of them has a bloody gash over his eye. What follows is a saga of unmitigated terror with the boys, rich and powerful with political backing (how else?), bent on “teaching the girls a lesson.” The horrendous brand of male bullying that the women encounter is typical of cowards who dare not challenge their victims openly. The first half of the film is devoted to the nail-biting terror that the three women have to face, especially Minal (played by Tapasee Pannu) who is put through humiliation all because she had the temerity to take on her attacker. At no point does the script lose its pace even as it forces the audience to take a deep look into the patriarchal mindset that feels entitled to label independent and thinking women as “loose” or characterless”.

The second half is taken up by riveting court scenes at the end of which the aging defence lawyer played with aplomb by Amitabh Bachchan makes the point that ‘‘No, means ‘no’. Nothing more nothing less.” And that no one in society is entitled to make a mockery of woman’s right to preserve her dignity. Full marks to Ritesh Shah for such a brilliant script and director Aniruddha Roy Chowdhury for doing justice to it.

By: Nazar Dehalvi

Email: nazardehalvi@yahoo.com