Watch Angry Indian Goddesses, don't expect much from it
Angry Indian Goddesses is not entirely bereft of joy. It’s a film that allows its heroines to be themselves and exist to not appease men by the sidelines. The women here are “significant” and not significant others. So here we have them abuse, drink, laugh, eat, discuss relevant social issues and take on bigoted men. With Goa as the backdrop, the destination is apt for letting their hair down. Only after a point the film begins to feel a girls’ trip which won’t end until all the hip joints and scenic sights have been covered and something goes wrong.
Frieda (Sarah Jane Dias) is a photographer who has convinced her friends to come to her spacious abode in Goa. Suranjana aka Su (Sandhya Mridul) is a businesswoman who has no time for her daughter, Pamela aka Pam (Pavleen Gujral), a Punjabi housewife, Madhurita aka Mad (Anushka Manchanda), a depressed singer, Joanna aka Jo (Amrit Maghera), an aspiring actress with an accent, and Nargis (Tannishtha Chatterjee), a social activist, and along with Frieda, doesn’t have a pet name. They all are spirited, open-minded and sexy. The coolness quotient of the gals is highlighted by how they involve Lakshmi, (Rajshri Deshpande) Frieda’s house help, into all their fun activities.
France-based Indian filmmaker Pan Nalin, best known for Samsara and the documentary Faith Connections, makes no pretensions that this is a female buddy flick and that it wants to empower women. That’s all a good cause only if Angry Indian Goddesses didn’t feel so preachy most of the time. The ladies chatter about feeling suppressed and constantly judged for what they do in the current Indian social environs. These dinner table conversations are candid but they also feel like contrived scenes in which statements are to be made on all sorts of issues – from homosexuality to sexual assault. Amidst all of these exchanges, the ladies have all but forgotten as to who Frieda is marrying.
Meanwhile, the men are mere afterthoughts. There is a dutiful boyfriend (Arjun Mathur) who rides all the way from Mumbai to check up on his bae, Mad, only to be told that he has ruined a girls’ night out. If Adil Hussein is the misogynistic cop, Anju Choudhary here is employed to wholeheartedly celebrate the female gaze and desire. So we have Choudhary shirtless and adorned in low, tight jeans washing a car. It’s one of the few moments where Angry Indian Goddesses succeeds in its objective of appeasing the female audience.
All characters embark on a voyage of self-discovery which feels rushed. Pam suddenly knows, hanging out with her more liberated friends that she isn’t meant to be with her husband. Su decides to call off a meaty contract to safeguard the rights of the poor and homeless. Lakdumshmi decides to not let vengeance consume her life. And Frieda takes her own sweet time, using a game of charades, to share a relevant detail with her friends. Meanwhile, Jo shuttles between practising Hindi film clichés – practising jhatkas and reciting banal Hindi dialogues – and sexually fantasising about the above-mentioned dishy neighbour.
“Nobody in Bollywood industry has any idea of women,” says Jo as she struggles to play the part of a damsel in distress and loses her cool with the director. The next minute Nalin goes on to include a scene which shows Jo, who didn’t want to be stereotyped, practising Bollywood moves in a bikini and shorts. What is that meant to accomplish? Nalin’s film has worked on the international festival front winning over the audience.
It may be because they are happy to see a changing India that is voluble in a setting that they would like to holiday in. Trouble with Angry Indian Goddesses is that it is happy going on listing out the myriad problems facing women and revelling in its feminism without really touching on the root of the problem. The film is worth a watch largely for its talented female cast which brings a genuine camaraderie and spontaneity to the proceedings, with Mridul, Gujral and Manchanda especially impressive.