(Dangal Spoilers Ahead)
After much trepidation, I was dragged to a 5:30 show of Dangal today by my sister. I went in with a lot of preconceived notions of what the movie is. The premise itself seemed a little jarring, and I’m not a fan of Aamir Khan’s ability to turn himself into a messiah in every role he portrays. I’m especially not a fan of big bad male saviours swooping in to save the day (Pink, anyone?) for female characters. So yes, I did go in with prejudices.
It took about an hour of the film for me to set them aside. Dangal is not a feminist movie, despite what the trailers would have you believe. It’s also not a patriarchal movie (well, any more than all movies are, at least) like a lot of reviews would have you think. Dangal is a biographical account of the triumph of human spirit in a context that boggles the mind, and that’s about it. When someone watches Dangal hoping for feminism front and centre, they assume the movie is about the women in the movie. It’s not. They prop up the man.
The first scene of the movie is where this demarcation is made clear. Mahavir Singh Phogat is shown defeating a man younger to him, and that’s where he’s established as The Man in the movie. For the most part, the movie is about his hopes, his aspirations, his struggles. Even in the most pivotal scene, where he’s locked away from his daughter’s moment of triumph, the focus is tilted towards his anguish, not her tangible, physical struggle. When his daughter defeats him in a bout, the audience is made to sympathise with his loss, not cheer for her win.
Having kept that aside, Mahavir’s character was fascinating to me. Despite his sadness brought about by a lack of a son to carry on his burdens, he’s kind to his daughters. He never mistreats them, and in a raw, unfiltered moment, he’s shown helping one of his younger girls with her homework. He’s a good father, and he accepts his own inability to be a ‘guru’ and father simultaneously. This felt like a commentary on the Indian idea of parenting itself. Parents are untouchable, unreachable paradigms never to be questioned, just obeyed. Mahavir’s vulnerable moments flout this idea, albeit very fleetingly.
The biggest, most encompassing ideal that feminism espouses is ability of choice. If a woman is equipped to practice her agency, she is a beneficiary of feminism’s struggles. Dangal portrayed a very crucial question for me. Where does Mahavir’s own thrust end, and where do the girls start with their own struggles? At which point does their own autonomy come to play? There are three moments I can pinpoint. One, when they attend a 14 year old friend’s wedding and realise that despite their father’s methods, he’s creating an escape hatch for them. Secondly, when Geeta gets a taste of her first fight, and decides she wants more. These are unequivocally feminist moments. The last moment is when Geeta tries to reclaim markers of traditional femininity without giving up her position in a male dominated world. While this attempt fizzles out, it’s important to take note of it.
I think this brings us to an even simpler question. What is feminism? What is feminism, more specifically, in this movie’s context? Legal terminology has two concepts which I’d like to bring here. Mens Rea and Actus Rea. The former represents the thought behind the action, and the latter, the action supplementing the thought. While Mahavir’s thought wasn’t feminist, driven as it was by his own selfish need for glory, can we completely discount his actions? He pushes his daughters into flouting rules of the society, protects them from the backlash, and indeed, stands guard for their attempts at breaking free. In this context, however miseducated, his actions are, most definitely, feminist.
This actually is why I had a huge problem with that feminist spiel he gave about how Geeta represented so many women still shackled by preconceived notions of womanhood. Mahavir Singh Phogat probably never thought on those lines, and that’s okay. The audience doesn’t need concepts fed to them in such literal terms. They see the impact on screen themselves. Mahavir is not a feminist man. And that’s okay. He’s not a faultless protagonist. And that’s okay. He doesn’t need to be. A biopic is never about perfect people. It’s always about real, flawed, ordinary people making extraordinary choices.
So, go watch Dangal. It’s not about how flawed his parenting was. It’s not about feminism taking centrestage. It’s definitely not about Geeta and Babita. Hell, it’s hardly about honesty either, considering the real Mahavir Singh Phogat was never locked up in the Commonwealth Games.
What Dangal is about is a rare glimpse of Indian cinema trying. Trying to break stereotypes, trying to break limitations, and trying to break a string of jarring masala movies. Is this the most gritty, hitting, impactful movie of the year?
Probably not.
Is it a great watch, despite its flaws?
Yes.
