Why Dhanush’s Thanga Magan mocks modern women

There are two ways to look at Thanga Magan (*Golden Son*), national award winning actor Dhanush’s film that released at the Tamil box office this weekend: Either dismiss it off as an average feature starring one of South India’s bright young stars or seriously look at some of the regressive stereotypes it presents.

The film is an out and out Dhanush vehicle, and brings back the team that gave the 2014 smash hit Vellaiilla Pattathaari (The graduate without a job). Most of the the technicians return in Thanga Magan and even the urban middle class setting and characterisations remain very similar.

Dhanush undeniably is one of the better actors around and has a phenomenal fan following among the youngsters, most specifically young men.

Which is why the film is hard to overlook as there are some really jarring notes in the script that attempts to play to the galleries.

The film’s protagonist is named Tamizh (தமிழ்) and seems to  represents all things good and bad (well mostly bad) about Tamil culture, as it seems to stand in the eyes of the director Velraj, who also takes the writing credits for the film.

Some of the dialogues — especially of the hero especially when he keeps referring to Tamizh (தமிழ்) in a self-aggrandising way and the characterisation of the lead female roles — played by British actor Amy Jackson and young upcoming star Samantha — is thoroughly repressive.

The so called “progressive female lead” Hema DSouza (played by British model and actor Amy Jackson) in the story is a girl who dares to drink some beer, gets physical with the hero before marriage (though pre-marital sex is not implied) and even slaps her boyfriend casually.

But Tamizh rejects her because of her dream of having her own home that won’t feature his parents as occupants. “I will respect your parents and we can visit them on weekends. But I want my home to be my own and they can live where they are,” she says.

Tamizh, who is quick to reconcile with other modern aspects of his lover, refuses to buy into her dream. The break-up is abrupt and absurd at the same time.

So after the break-up, both the characters have arranged marriages.

Tamizh’s wife eventually is Yamuna (played by Samantha), who is shown as the perfect house wife. She stays at home, helps Tamizh’s mother cook and clean, can’t stand anyone — even her own parents — criticise her husband, bears his child and runs behind him every time he forgets his tiffin box to work. She does not even mind that Tamizh does not tell her “I love you” all that much.

There is further insensitive portrayal of women, especially involving Hema D’Souza marriage to a husband, who balks at her and tells her that he married her only to score a point over Tamizh. Despite the massive humiliation suffered at her husband’s hand, Hema does not walk out on her marriage. The modern girl who once dreamt of her own home has surrendered fully to her husband’s will.

The shoddy representation of women alone is not what is jarring in the national award winning actor’s home production. There is the constant whipping up of Tamil nationalist frenzy, every time the hero is challenged simply because of his name.

Tamizh often picks petty phone quarrels with his bete noire the “handsome fair-skinned better personality boy who is a childish villain”.

This is once again a repeat from “Vellaiilla Pattathaari” and many other previous films of Dhanush’s where the upwardly mobile are repeatedly shown to have very loose morals. At least in VIP, the antagonist was an elitist real estate baron’s son. Here even that is not the case. The villain is simply a guy who looks better than Dhanush.

In Dhanushverse, good looks in men = devious and mentally retarded. Scream and run, ladies. Of course, guys have all the liberty to woo the fair-skinned woman with perfect waist to hip ratio, and if need be dump her in a jiffy after getting jiggy with it.

In a bizarre dialogue retort to the villain (her the fair-skinned cousin brother), Dhanush responds to the provocation that he might lose with incredibly banal: “தமிழ் நாட்ல English தோக்கலாம் Japanese தோக்கலாம் German தோக்கலாம் French தோக்கலாம் ஆனா தமிழ் தோக்கவே முடியாது”. (In Tamil Nadu, English can lose, Japanese can lose, German can lose, French can lose, but Tamizh will never lose)

Denigrative representation of women is nothing new as far as Tamil cinema goes. Many top heroes have constantly acted in films that border on misogynistic. A more recent controversy featuring a top actor and a music director centred over a “Beep Song” that denigrated women.

But somewhere somehow, more sensitivity is expected from the current from of young actors and film-makers.