Remembering Shyam Benegal – and the Feminine Spirit in His Cinema

Shyam Benegal, one of the most outstanding filmmakers in Indian cinema, passed away on 23 December at the age of 90.

Shyam Benegal did not subscribe to the theory of 'male gaze'. Even when he made films centered on sex workers, he saw that they were strong 'subjects’ and not 'objects’.

(Image: Namita Chauhan/The Quint)

Shyam Benegal, one of the most outstanding filmmakers in Indian cinema, breathed his last on 23 December at the age of 90.

Benegal never claimed to be a 'feminist' filmmaker, but his films clearly showed his regard, respect, and concern for women across caste, class, status, and education.

They defied Laura Mulvey’s 1975 theory of the "male gaze”, in which she says that women in films are essentially reduced to 'objects’ to pleasure the male audience – and not 'subjects’ of the films they featured in.

Benegal did not subscribe to this theory. Even when he made films centered on sex workers, he saw that they were strong 'subjects’ and not 'objects’.

Benegal’s Films Dabbled with Women in Socially Sensitive Contexts

Benegal's first feature film Ankur (1974) introduced the powerful FTII gold medalist Shabana Azmi. She is the wife of a deaf-mute farmer who is a Dalit wage-labourer, played by Sadhu Meher, in the village zamindar (Anant Nag)’s home where his wife works as a housemaid. The young zamindar manipulates an affair with the maid though he is a married man. Through these incidents, the film defines a sharp critique of casteism, sexual exploitation, silent abuse of the zamindar's wife played by Priya Tendulkar, and physical torture of the deaf-mute labourer.

Bhoomika (The Role, 1977) was based on the autobiography titled 'Sangtye Aika' (Listen to this) penned by a famous Marathi-speaking actress of her time, Hansa Wadkar. For Bhoomika, Benegal based the film on Wadkar's autobiography and had actress Smita Patil play her on screen.

The film was much ahead of its time when the audiences could hardly be expected to digest a film with a woman protagonist who lived a very controversial life completely on her terms after a stormy and exploitative girlhood in which she was victimised and exploited by her own mother and her lover, financially and sexually.

It explores the invisible and little-known areas of female subjectivity. Although biographical in intent, Bhoomika's structural complexity seems to suggest that the journey of self-exploration undertaken by Usha (portrayed by Patil when she was very fresh in films), is circular, full of snares, forever incomplete.

Portrayal of Complex and Conflicting Themes With Ease Was His Forte

Mandi (Marketplace, 1983) is one of the very few films that revolve around an old brothel the existence of which stands threatened because of land-grabbers, including local politicians, and landlords. The brothel, located along the fringes of Hyderabad city, is headed by a madam portrayed by Shabana Azmi.

Benegal used burlesque as the mode to explore the dynamics of a whorehouse. He tempers the film with an air of black comedy, allowing for some crude voyeurism in keeping with the social environment in which the women live.

Mandi makes a delightful case of depicting the conflicting and complex aspects of prostitution.

Sooraj Ka Satvan Ghoda (The Seventh Horse of the Sun, 1992): Based on Dharamvir Bharati's noted Hindi novel of the same name, this film is not only a classic example of the transcription/interpretation of literature on celluloid, but also, one of the few celluloid experiments with the lost art of storytelling.

Characters of one story telescope and move freely in and out of the other two, growing with time, and subtly hinting at the changes in their lives, as seen from the point of view of Manek Mulla (played by Rajit Kapur) who grows from a gawky adolescent with a big crush on young girl Jamuna in the neighbouring house to a young man in the second story. In the last episode, he is a fully grown adult trying to cope with the pained and tortured and exploited young gypsy girl Sakti (Neena Gupta) but failing to come to a definite closure in any of the relationships.

Suggested adultery enriches the tapestry and texture of Sooraj Ka Saatvan Ghoda. Of the three women who enter Manek Mulla's life, one is adulterous purely by suggestion, even before she becomes a widow. Jamuna, forced to marry an old widower, suddenly finds herself pregnant.

But can one rightfully call it adultery? The question is left hanging in mid-air, leaving you to find the right answer which would depend on your perspective on morals underlined by patriarchy.

Zubeidaa (2001) is said to be Benegal’s costliest film before Netaji – comprising four female characters that offers an insight into Benegal's mastery in understanding and handling the woman psyche from every angle transcending barriers of communal identity, age, background, status, and education.

Apart from Zubeidaa (Karishma Kapoor), there is Fayyazi (Surekhha Sikri) her mother, who is not very educated and is Muslim. She is submissive and never raises her voice against her domineering and abusive husband Suleiman (Amrish Puri) even when he openly flaunts his keep, Rose Davenport (Lilette Dubey), in public.

But Fayyazi takes a critical decision when Zubeidaa decides to marry her Hindu prince of Jodhpur, Hukam Singh (Manoj Vajpayee), though he is already married to Mandira (Rekha) and has kids. But she does not permit Zubeidaa to take little Riyaz with her.

When Riyaaz comes to meet Rose, she is a ghost of her former self, without work or identity because, post-Independence, the Anglo Indian was gradually falling out of favour with the newly formed Indian government. Mandira, the original queen of Hukam Singh, is officially acknowledged by the royal family and by the subjects of Fatehpur.

She speaks impeccable English but is always bejewelled and costumed royally like any Indian princess of her time. Her name is abbreviated to the British-sounding Mandy, probably motivated by the sycophantic allegiance Indian royalty bore towards the British.

But she had affection for the much younger Zubeidaa and was pleasantly surprised by her free spirit, her living life completely on her own terms, though it brought her not only unhappiness, but a lack of rootedness that finally led to her death in the plant crash. Was the crash a sabotage? Or was it just a crash? Benegal leaves the question open.

This article has been updated. It was first published on 23 December 2023.

(Shoma A Chatterji is an Indian film scholar, author and freelance journalist. This is an opinion article, and the views expressed above are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for them.)