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The fantasy fiction of Section 375
The film would have you believe the Indian legal system operates in favour of women and that allegations of sexual assault destroy the careers of men
On May 9, a small crowd gathered at Dadar for the #SupremeInjustice protest, in support of a woman who had accused the Chief Justice of India of sexual harassment. The protesters sang songs and chanted slogans. The police stood around and watched. No one came forward, no one stepped back and after a few hours, everyone went home peacefully.
That’s the reality of feminist protests in Mumbai. (Not so in Delhi, where protesters were in police detention for hours.)
Then there’s the fantasy that Section 375 shows us – women screaming, people climbing over police barricades and general lawlessness. All this is happening, we’re told, because the public will not let a man get away with rape. Pick up that dropped jaw. No one ever said Indian popular cinema is realistic.
In Section 375, film director Rohan Khurana is accused of raping a junior crew member, Anjali Dangle. After a lower court finds Rohan guilty, criminal lawyer Tarun Saluja takes Rohan’s case. Tarun is pitted against prosecutor Hiral Gandhi, the “torchbearer of feminism”. It turns out this torchbearer missed key discrepancies in the case, on which Tarun shines a light during the trial. Also, Hiral’s knowledge of current affairs is evidently weak since she fails to point out that Tarun’s claim of the juvenile convict in the Nirbhaya episode being the most brutal was a rumour refuted by the Juvenile Justice Board. Anyway, the point is Tarun raises questions that neither Anjali nor Hiral can answer. It’s to no avail. Outside, that violently feminist public is determined to not give the accused any benefit of doubt. You may now shed a single tear for Rohan. (Anjali does, literally.)
This vision of a man-hating public isn’t the only bit of fantasy in Section 375. The film would have you believe the Indian legal system operates in favour of women and that allegations of sexual assault destroy the careers of men. Section 375 also imagines women can breezily walk around after ramming their crotch into a railing repeatedly. Pain? Pshaw. We’re strong. The only thing we feel is (out)rage.
While a psychiatrist could probably write a thesis on director Ajay Bahl’s apparent fascination for sexually manipulative women – his first film, BA Pass, had an older woman who first seduced the younger hero and then became his pimp – there’s a lot to say in favour of the alternative reality in Section 375. Sure, the film isn’t particularly favourable towards women, but on the flip side, it imagines a world that isn’t biased against women; where those complaining of sexual assault are considered credible; and men accused of sexual offences suffer consequences.
Contrast that with the reality. All the #MeToo accused in the Indian film industry are cheerfully getting on with their lives. Vikas Bahl’s Super 30 released in July – it wasn’t coy about him being the director – and went on to become one of the highest grossing films of the year so far. Actor Aamir Khan is back on director Subhash Kapoor’s film Mogul (Khan had stepped away from the project after allegations against Kapoor surfaced). Lyricist Vairamuthu is rumoured to have bagged the new Mani Ratnam film. So much for ‘cancelled’ careers or loss of popularity.
If a world with consequences for the accused is what you want, watch Section 375. Just make sure you leave at intermission, before the film reveals the woman-hating twists to its tale.
