Pad Man, or: Bloody Men

As a Blog Collab that relies heavily on 90-minute B films, Bollywood Month has been a struggle. But guess what: we made it despite most of our picks this month clocking in at 2+ hours. For our final pick this month, we have the added bonus of a feminist theme that discusses menstruation repeatedly without making it a joke(!).

The Film:

Pad Man

The Premise:

Based on a true story, a man concerned for his wife in a rural village makes it his mission to produce cheaply made sanitary pads for women.

The Ramble:

Lakshmi and Gayatri enter into an arranged marriage, which quickly develops into romantic love. The unconventional Lakshmi may never be wealthy, but he is a devoted husband determined to care for his wife. For better or worse, he seems to take this duty a bit too far for Gayatri’s tastes and decides to do something about her reproductive health.

In the village the couple calls home (and in many rural parts of India), women who are menstruating are consigned to a screened-in part of the house so they will avoid making the rest of the residence impure. Women may lose two months of their lives every year, not to mention putting their lives at risk by using the same rag repeatedly to absorb menstrual blood.

Simple solution? Pads. Major complication? A single pack of pads is a luxury item, costing as much as 55 rupees. Lakshmi presents Gayatri with possibly the most romantic gift possible, a pack of sanitary pads; however, Gayatri is deeply ashamed that he has spent so much money, not to mention that he seems utterly fixated on her menstrual cycle. But Lakshmi’s gift does come in handy when someone is injured at work–instead of soiled rag, clean cotton fibers to the rescue!

Rejuvenated from the idea he’s on the right track re: pads, Lakshmi decides the best way to get his wife to use them is to make a low-cost alternative. Scraping together a small amount of cotton and muslin, he folds a pad of his own creation. Though Gayatri uses the pads, they are not absorbent enough, and a night of scrubbing blood from her sari puts her off for good.

After failing to recruit patients, medical students, and his own niece, Lakshmi is out of ideas for customers. Finally, Lakshmi decides to test the product himself with the help of the local butcher. Confident to a fault, he conducts the test while wearing light-colored pants with disastrous results. Jumping into the river to clean off the blood, he has made the water impure and is considered a pervert by many in the community.

Before Lakshmi can bring any more shame to the family, Gayatri’s brothers take her away to live with them. With nothing left to lose, Lakshmi pursues his dream full-time, working for a college professor and hoping to receive answers in exchange. Though the professor is pretty useless and discouraging AF, Lakshmi does learn about a supposedly low-cost machine that makes pads for women in low-income areas. The device costs millions of dollars, but Lakshmi is undeterred: he will simply build his own.

Feeling confident with his invention after much trial and error, Lakshmi still encounters the same problem that has plagued him constantly: women are much too ashamed about their periods to talk to a strange man about sanitary pads.

Luckily, a performer in town for a music festival is in need of a pad long after all of the drug stores have closed for the night. Lakshmi, sensing an opportunity, gives her one of his homemade pads to try. When he tracks her down for feedback, musician Pari is confused yet replies honestly: the pad was fine.

As it turns out, Pari is working on an MBA and is a perfect ally for Lakshmi. She encourages him to enter an innovation competition, where he wins the president’s award. Once he receives recognition, it doesn’t take long for Lakshmi’s invention to take off as he hires women to make and sell pads.

Developing feelings for Lakshmi and hoping for his success, Pari encourages him to patent his invention so he can make money from his idea. Lakshmi is so not on board for this as the machine’s purpose is to make a difference in the lives of women, who need only pay 2 rupees per pad. Besides this, he has yet to make an impact on the life of his own wife; can Lakshmi live with himself knowing he’s helped many women, but not the one he set out to help?

The Rating:

4/5 Pink Panther Heads

I truly enjoyed this film, and I’m not even mad about the underwhelming song and dance numbers. The lyrics to the song “Pad Man” are everything–and I sincerely hope the real-life Pad Man feels the song is the icing on the cake in consideration of all of his accomplishments. This film is an unapologetically feel-good piece telling the story of a real-life hero, and I’m so on board for that.

My biggest complaint is the love triangle, which is just completely unnecessary. I really enjoyed the relationship between Lakshmi and Pari but did it HAVE to be romantic? It all felt gross to me considering Lakshmi is married the whole time and still seems devoted to his wife.

Also it takes Lakshmi a RIDICULOUSLY long time to realize he should have women talking to other women about periods instead of him. Bloody men, eh?

Would my darling blog wife give this one the president’s award of her heart or toss it out like a soiled sanitary pad? Find out in her review here!

Hisss, or: Is That a Giant Snake or–It’s a Giant Snake

As much as I enjoy a good song and dance number, the marriage-driven Bollywood plots of our recent films are getting a bit much. The Blog Collab is returning to its roots this week with a Bollywood-ish feature about a snake goddess murdering dirtbag men.

The Film:

Hisss

The Premise:

A man’s plan to obtain an immortality stone from a snake goddess goes horribly awry when he kidnaps her lover to lure her out.

The Ramble:

According to ancient legend, the snake goddess Nagin holds a stone with the power to grant immortality. For a mere human to acquire the stone, they must kidnap her lover in snake form, which will draw Nagin out to find him. Keep in mind that Nagin is a goddess who can shift into the form of a large deadly snake at will. TL;DR: there’s an entire legend around Nagin cautioning you not to fuck with her. So don’t fuck with her.

Insert clueless white dude into the picture. George States (legit this character’s name), dying of brain cancer, is determined to track down the stone and avoid his fate. He recruits three guides to help him find Nagin, though they draw the line at actually participating in the abduction. Of course, George isn’t exactly an upstanding man of his word and forces the guides to commit the crime, and two of them end up dead. With the snake securely locked in a glass tank, all George must do now is wait.

Transforming into a woman, Nagin begins the search. As it is Holi, she is caught up in a crowd of dancers spraying each other with vibrantly colored paint. When she is distracted by a snake charmer, two sketchy dudes use the opportunity to kidnap Nagin in broad daylight. And people are just kind of chill about this?!?! Of course, this encounter will end much differently than these men imagine.

Meanwhile, police detective Vikram Gupta receives sad news when his wife miscarries. Despite his grief, he must continue work as usual; though a rather strange report of a naked woman who seems distressed is a bit of a change of pace. Vikram’s wife, Maya, and some other ladies take care of Nagin. Little do they know, she ventures out at night to find her lover, confronting men who are abusive, rapists, or all of the above. Again, these meetings go better for Nagin than the men.

Now Vikram is investigating the possibility of a serial killer, ignoring extraordinary claims of a giant snake committing these murders. Rookie Naveen arrives in town and urges Vikram to follow up about the snake; since Vikram owes his father a favor, he has no choice but to listen to Naveen.

So you’ve got the pattern of more people dying, Vikram having home life drama, George acting like an asshole; rinse, repeat. Eventually, George’s admittedly limited patience wears thin and he develops a stupid plan to lure Nagin out and catch her that somehow works.

Will George manage, however improbably, to succeed in his quest to be an immortal dickbag?

The Rating:

1/5 Pink Panther Heads

I tried. I really, really tried to justify giving this a better rating, but this is truly a horrendous film. The film favors absolutely abysmal CGI and scenes of Mallika Sherwat’s rockin’ bod (for real, girl is toned) over any semblance of plot or character development. So confident are the filmmakers in their impressive CGI effects that the film comes with a WARNING in advance reminding viewers that none of the snakes depicted are real. Unfortunate considering the CGI makes this film look about 30 years old rather than 10ish. Pride before the fall–you know how it goes.

There seems to be some feminist theme buried under all of this film’s nonsense, but it’s pretty difficult to know for sure. On the one hand, Nagin avenges women who are unable to stand up for themselves; on the other, the number of brutal attacks against women that are graphically depicted borders on torture porn. Nagin herself commits many acts of badassery but has almost no interiority. While I recognize the purpose of her role was basically to look good onscreen (including during a woman/snake sex scene no one asked for), it troubles me that she had no lines except occasional screaming or moaning.

George is really difficult to take seriously as he seems to be contending for a prize for overacting. It doesn’t help that he has all of the cliche villain lines, including overwrought sinister laughter.

I don’t even know where to begin with Vikram’s mother-in-law, who seems to be developmentally disabled…and later predicts her own death and dies? What.

The moral of the story here is don’t be a piece of shit dude. Piece of shit dudes get murdered by snakes. Don’t get murdered by snakes; don’t be a piece of shit dude.

Would my lovely blog wife defend this film with tooth and claw or head to the nearest warm rock for a sunbathe? Read her review here to find out!

Ek Ladki Ko Dekha Toh Aisa Laga, or: The Play’s The Thing

Bollywood. Lesbians. Elaborate stage productions. Bit of a spoiler there, but I can’t imagine viewers who seek out this film are overly committed to a heteronormative love story. If you are…eh, watch The Notebook again I guess?

The Film:

Ek Ladki Ko Dekha Toh Aisa Laga (How I Felt When I Saw That Girl)

The Premise:

A playwright pursues a young woman with a secret: she is in love with another woman.

The Ramble:

Sweety’s family is a lively bunch, as evidenced by their joyful celebrations at a wedding all attend. In contrast, Sweety herself is rather quiet and reserved, shying away from the spotlight. Now that she has graduated from university, there seems to be only one expectation for her: find a husband and settle down. When a potential suitor at the wedding expresses interest with the help of his wingman sister, Sweety perks up–so why is she still in the small Punjabi town of Moga one year later when he has moved to London?

Practically under house arrest because of her brother Babloo’s disapproval, Sweety is determined to escape to London. She is eager to attend art school…but also plans to start a life there with her lover. Fate takes an unexpected turn when Sweety hides from her brother in the audience of a theatrical rehearsal. Catching the attention of the playwright Sahil, Sweety bluntly tells him the play is terrible; it’s clear the writer has never been in love.

Unfortunately, Babloo chooses this moment to interrupt, even getting into a fistfight with Sahil on a train car. Booked at the police station, Sahil uses the opportunity to gather some details–like where the siblings live.

WHAT IS THIS PLAY.

Sweety lives with her family in a beautiful house. Her father owns a garment factory, making him one of the wealthiest people in Moga–though his real passion is cooking. Angry with Sweety’s reckless actions that may bring shame to the family, Babloo tells his father that Sweety is dating a Muslim man in secret. The truth is there is no Muslim man; in fact, there is no man at all, but a woman. Even this comparably minor revelation causes upheaval in the household, and her father forbids the match.

This makes for some chaotic mistaken identity scenarios when Sahil arrives in town with aspiring actress Chatro to teach acting classes, clearly a front for spending time with Sweety. Believing the man in the kitchen to be the family’s cook, Sahil asks Sweety’s father Babil to deliver a letter to her.

After finally receiving Sahil’s messages, Sweety joins his acting class along with her grandmother. Both Sahil and Chatro are invited to the family’s house party. Balbir is instantly smitten when he meets Chatro, who runs a catering business and cooks divinely.

Meanwhile, Sahil gets drunk as family members push a host of suitors towards Sweety. Fed up when Sahil declares he’d like to marry her, Sweety reveals the truth at last–she won’t marry any man because she’s in love with a woman. Sahil very rudely laughs out loud…but don’t worry, he’ll stop being an asshole pretty quickly. The next day, Sweety meets Sahil and explains in detail the bullying and self-loathing she experienced as a child. Now a lovely and supportive bestie, Sahil is determined to help her.

Meanwhile, Balbir’s modern girlfriend opens up his mind with new ideas; perhaps Sweety marrying a Muslim man wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all. Balbir gives his blessing for Sweety and Sahil’s marriage, which is now the last thing either party wants. However, Sweety is tired of disappointing her family and agrees to go along with it. But don’t worry–there are schemes.

As the most self-indulgent playwright ever, Sahil convinces Balbir to sponsor a play that will also promote the company’s new fashions. The play will teach the audience to accept love in all its forms, rather unsubtly starring Sweety and her girlfriend Kuhu, the woman from the earlier wedding.

Everything seems to be going to plan–that is, until Babloo recognizes Kuhu and reveals Sweety’s shocking secret. The family will never be the same; can they learn to love and accept each other as they are?

The Rating:

4/5 Pink Panther Heads

I’m an inherently biased reviewer as I am always on board for a lesbian romance film. However, I’ll start with some critiques: this isn’t necessarily as fun as I expected, the pacing is quite uneven (the first half is pretty boring, honestly), and the dance numbers don’t stack up when compared with some other Bollywood offerings. It’s also really difficult to watch Sweety very passively accept terrible things for most of the film; GIRL, stand up for yourself! And OF COURSE we never get a kiss between our two leads, whereas I’m positive a hetero couple would’ve gotten more onscreen action.

I do enjoy the minor characters and members of Sweety’s family (except Babloo) who feel real with all of their quirks. I’m officially obsessed with Anil Kapoor (Kartar in last week’s pick), who is apparently Sweety’s father IRL??!?!

While the message isn’t subtle and feels a bit after-school special at times, this film’s strength is its heart. The film is firmly rooted in its beliefs and uses them to share an activist message about the acceptance of LGBTQ people. Sahil is such a good friend and I love that he becomes such a wonderful ally. The relationship between Sweety and her father is so lovely in the end (spoiler?), and I adore the way compassion and acceptance drive his actions. I DARE you to tell me you didn’t at least tear up in the last few scenes.

The people have spoken, Bollywood: give us more lesbian romance!

Would my gorgeous blog wife shout her love for this film from the rooftops or keep it secret forever? Find out in her review here!

Mubarakan, or: Wife Swap

I’m unemployed and don’t have a place to live beyond mid-August; what I mean to say here is that, rather than host a pity party, it’s the perfect time for impeccably choreographed dance numbers, glittering costumes, and a dizzying number of love triangles. That’s right—it’s the first ever Bollywood month on the Blog Collab!

The Film:

Mubarakan

The Premise:

Identical twin brothers raised separately plan to marry their girlfriends despite family disapproval and the disastrous attempts of their uncle to help.

The Ramble:

On a dark night in England in 1990, twin babies Charan and Karan survive a car crash that kills both of their parents. Their uncle Kartar is guardian of the two boys…until he realizes the whole parenting thing isn’t really his cup of tea. The boys go their separate ways; Karan to be raised by his aunt Jeeto in London, and Charan in Punjab by his uncle Baldev.

From even our opening song-and-dance number, it’s clear that Charan is the good Punjabi boy (and devout Sikh), while Karan is the flashy bad boy. Though far apart in location and in personality, the now grown twins are on the same page when it comes to settling down. Karan is ready to marry his girlfriend of two years, Sweety. Unfortunately, Sweety makes a dismally poor impression when meeting Aunt Jeeto, and Karan decides to hold off on his news.

Meanwhile, Uncle Baldev has arranged an engagement for Karan to Binkle, the daughter of a influential man. Determined to get out of the arrangement, Karan suggests it’s his brother Charan who should marry Binkle. Complications abound as Charan himself is eager to marry his girlfriend Nafisa, a Muslim woman he fears the family won’t accept.

After arriving at Uncle Kartar’s extravagant Mini Punjab in England, Charan does little to hide his dismay at his impending engagement. Due to the influential nature of Binkle’s family, Charan cannot back out of the arrangement; however, Kartar helps his nephew scheme to meet with disapproval. Kartar’s best plan is for Charan to pretend to be a drug addict. Of course, nothing could possibly go wrong here.

When Charan meets Binkle, she’s a total sweetheart and he’s instantly smitten. Though he changes his mind on his uncle’s questionable plans, it’s too late–when Binkle’s brother accuses Charan of drug abuse, a major dispute erupts, pitting the twins’ families against each other. To save face, Baldev vows he will see Charan married within one month, even if the engagement to Binkle has fallen through.

Now that Baldev is determined to make such a quick engagement, the time seems right for him to coincidentally meet Nafisa. If she charms Charan’s uncle, it should be easy for the two to become engaged. However, Baldev mistakes Nafisa for Karan’s girlfriend and, besides, is less than dazzled by her personality. Rather than Nafisa, Baldev has another young lady in mind for Charan…none other than Sweety! More than a little irked with Karan, Sweety agrees to the engagement. Just like that, not one, but TWO weddings are in the works, set for December 25th in London.

Please share my confusion over this dance number featuring a group of back-up dancers dressed in LA Lakers jerseys…?

What follows is scheme after scheme, each one ending in its own spectacular disaster. With the weddings fast approaching, the only option left seems to be elopement. Kartar is all for this until he is haunted by a dream of his late brother, who reminds him of the shame this will bring to the family. Done with elaborate plans, Kartar insists the young couples leave their fate in God’s hands. Will divine intervention bring about a happy end where mortal means have failed?

The Rating:

3/5 Pink Panther Heads

Oh my GOD, this film did not need to be 2 1/2 hours. After a while, all of the schemes feel repetitive and–sorry for the spoiler–the ending of the film doesn’t exactly defy expectations. Also, the potential for comedic mistaken identity is grossly underutilized considering our main characters are IDENTICAL TWINS.

I will concede that the cast here is great. Anil Kapoor as Kartar is a standout, and I love that he’s basically living the dream that I imagine all people of nations colonized by white people share: lavishing in a country estate with a white servant at his beck and call. Arjun Kapoor is also impressive considering he plays both main roles in this lengthy feature, quite often conversing with himself and occasionally mirroring his own dance moves.

Fun fact for my fellow clueless white people: there is a LOT of English in this film, with actors switching back and forth between Hindi, Punjabi, and English within the same sentence. I had to Google this, but it’s apparently a thing in a lot of Bollywood films since English is such a ubiquitous and, er, cool(?) language.

One of the few Bollywood films I’ve seen is Bride & Prejudice, and this film reminded me of why the Bollywood adaptation of Austen worked so well (see also: colonization. Again). Mubarakan, like much of Austen, is very much a comedy of manners, responding to rather strict expectations surrounding marriage and the discouragement of openly discussing romantic love. The couples in this film balance their feelings of love with the conflicting demands of family, duty, and restraint–plus there’s more dancing than you can shake a stick at.

Would my lovely blog wife accept a proposal from our film or shun it for the shame it has brought upon the family? Read her review here to find out!