The Great Indian Kitchen: A familiar unease

If all the thoughts that run through your feminist mind during mealtime at a typical Kerala --or an Indian-- household had a fitting cinematic representation, it would be The Great Indian Kitchen.

The movie is the story of a newly-wed couple who embark on their marital journey with no route-map in hand. To one of them, this makes no difference as it is life as usual; nothing appears to have changed. For another, however, the world is no more the same. No prizes for guessing who had to trudge painfully along this path. 

Nimisha Sajayan and Suraj Venjaramoodu play the married couple, but we never hear their names. This is, perhaps, because it makes no difference. What’s in a name, when the story is the same home after home? (For this review, we will refer to the couple as The Wife and The Husband)

In this house, The Wife is from a “Gulf family”. This is important because while a family settled abroad promises exposure and a plethora of opportunities, it also carries with it the desperate baggage of having to “stick to one’s roots.” So she is educated and is trained in dance, but will she have a career? Oh, that’s something the husband or his family will decide.

Nimisha, a state award winner, sinks her teeth into the character of a woman who wants to keep her parents, in-laws and husband happy, but is disgusted by the fact that clearing the drain off their leftovers day after day is an integral part of the “happiness project”.

Suraj, a national award winner, embodies several men you know. He forgets to call the plumber, believes he can’t eat restaurant food and decides when his wife will work. He believes he is progressive. He tells himself that he isn’t like his father who doesn’t let his mother do what she wants; all the while completely oblivious to what his wife wants. 

Suraj reminds you of the several 'progressive' men who encourage their wives to have a ‘girls’ night out to unwind’, but only after making sure that dinner for them is cooked and set on the table. He isn’t a ‘bad’ man/ partner, one could argue. He isn't a cheat or violent. So, is he a good partner or is the bar just too low?

The film’s greatest victory lies in director-writer Jeo Baby’s comfort with monotony and unease. His camera, supported ably by a brilliant soundtrack, rests for long stretches on women going about with their household chores. Chop, cook, clean, rinse, repeat. With a familiar unease, you watch these women slog and slave. You know you've either been one of these women, witnessed this or even encouraged it. 

The unapologetic slow pace gives you no room to escape and hence, the experience becomes more personal. The scenes that focus on the hands of the women at work feel daunting, and so when The Wife breaks down in anger and disgust you want to comfort her.

The film is interlaced with several poignant moments. In one scene, when The Wife’s mother-in-law steps out of the household, albeit for another motherly duty, she leaves behind her sweat-drenched sarees for the more comfortable salwar kameez. And in that moment, you are left wondering who this woman really is -- or who she could be-- if not for the hurdles of pressure cookers, washing lines and hot dosas. Despite years of internalised patriarchy, she is also somewhat of an ally to The Wife.

We also see tender moments between The Wife and The Husband in the kitchen. On other occasions, it would have made you smile, but in this kitchen, even a hug feels stifling. The widening gap between the couple, therefore, comes as no surprise. Whether things change or remain the same, is a question the film answers beautifully. 

The Great Indian Kitchen should be made mandatory viewing at family get-togethers where men sit in the living room, and women stand around in the kitchen laughing over their son’s inability to boil water or fretting over their daughter’s lack of culinary inclination. At a time when we are discussing the possibility of paying homemakers a salary, the film rightfully demands your time. It is at its very least a lesson in empathy, and at its best, a call for emancipation.

The Great Indian Kitchen is streaming on Neestream. Watch the trailer here: