Dirty Picture (2011) and the Dance Hypocrisy

The role of Indian film in shaping gender norms in India is widely debated. Moreover, the discussion has risen to particular salience in the wake of rape cases widely covered by the global media and the resulting domestic and global focus on the experiences of Indian women.

But importantly, Indian films are not just reference points in such discussions; they are debate platforms themselves, as well as discussants in their own right.

Through a series of posts, I hope to highlight the possible role that Indian films play in shaping, reflecting, and commenting on gender in India. And I want to start this series with a look at the 2011 film, The Dirty Picture.

Why start here? Because The Dirty Picture starts the conversation with us, the audience. And this is important, because if one is to honestly reflect on the role of film in shaping society, one must reflect on the role of society, or more specifically, audience members, in shaping film. The film industry is, after all, deeply affected by the pushes and pulls of supply and demand.

Speaking of audience and society, I’d like to comment on the fact that I’m an English-speaking American – I’m not, in short, the commonly intended audience for Hindi-language Indian films. As such, do I have standing in any discussion about the effect of audiences on Indian cinema?

I’d argue yes, because in our increasingly connected and globalizing world, film audiences are no longer defined by the parameters of geographic and linguistic barriers. Audiences are now global, and thus the forces of global supply and demand affect the content of films…everywhere.

The Dirty Picture, based on the true-life story of Silk Smitha, follows Reshma (stage name: Silk), a Tamil actress played by Vidya Balan, who rises from obscurity to the big screen in the 1980s, as a result of the provocative dancing she provided to movies.

But her fame comes at a cost. The men who watch her films in relative privacy (in one scene, men file into a movie theater to see her dancing and then file back out as soon as the music ends) disparage her honor in public. The men with whom she has romantic relations behind closed doors are ashamed of her presence among their friends. She is both wanted and unwanted, the pendulum swinging from one to the other with the fluctuations of private desires and public personas.

This theme is most directly addressed during Silk’s speech at an award ceremony, and I’d argue that despite occurring just before the film’s intermission, this scene is the film’s most important.

In the scene, Silk is about to walk onto stage to accept an award when Suryakanth, a former companion played by Naseeruddin Shah, questions her inclusion among the other attendants, calling her “the fantasy from last night that nobody talks about the next morning”; their “dirty secret.”

But when Silk reaches the microphone, she doesn’t bend to his words; she acknowledges their implications directly. As the crowd looks on nervously, she castigates their “so-called honor”, and notes that while they make, sell and watch dirty pictures, they’re “scared to acknowledge them.” Further, she indicates that she will continue to make such films, which underscores that she, not filmmakers or film watchers, is the ultimate decision-maker when it comes to her actions, her body, and her worth.

This scene, as well as The Dirty Picture as a whole, asks for a nuanced consideration of sexuality in film, and especially for introspection from the audience on their role in influencing and judging it.

How common is it for us to privately accept, normalize, and thus perpetuate norms that we may publicly disavow?

Are we, the audience, as much shapers of gender norms as we are spectators to them? Is it common to scapegoat others (actresses specifically) for content that some find questionable instead of considering a collective responsibility for the creation of that content in the first place?

And lastly, is it possible that in pushing against sexual exploitation in film one can perpetuate a more stealthy, even if unintended, suppression of sexual expression?

I really appreciate that The Dirty Picture asks these questions of its audience. Because how are we to make judgments of others, or of films, if we can’t ask the hard questions of ourselves.

It is with an introspective spirit that I look forward to further exploring the relationship between film and gender. And throughout this process, I will try to keep in mind that films are more than presentations; they are relationships – between actor and audience, content and society, supply and demand – of which we are all an integral part.