Incest in Indian films: 'Don't you see how sick this is?'

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"Don't you see how sick this is, don't you see what's wrong with this?" - That Girl In Yellow Boots

This is a fairly late post on a film that tackles incest not as a venereal disease but presents it with depressing clarity to an audience that understands its grim implications.

I have no illusions that filmmaker Anurag Kashyap, even with his avant-garde cinema, will ever be able to upstage the squeamishly saccharine social blockbusters of the Barjatiyas and Johars. But in his quaintly complacent way, he has dealt with one of society's worst tragedy - the death of innocence in That Girl in Yellow Boots.

In the last few years, themes of LGBT, wife swapping, fantasy role play and sado-masochism has silently but firmly crept into the Indian cinemaspace. But directors, even those who dared to push the envelope, have steered clear of the prickly subject of unholy familial bonds that has never been given the respect and exploration it deserves.

(TGIYB spoiler ahead)

Which is why Kashyap's strikingly bland depiction of the father who accepts handjobs (or handshakes as Kalki Koechlin calls them) from his daughter in That Girl in Yellow Boots is a standalone experiment. For a father tangentially responsible for the death of his 15-year-old stepdaughter under murky circumstances, he is remarkably plain. The underplayed creepiness is in the mehendi-coloured hair, the initial hesitation in the half-nod to Kalki's offer of a handjob and in the emotionless acceptance of his sick obsession.

In itself, Yellow Boots is not outstanding. It has mediocre performances by actors whose roles were scripted half-heartedly. But it has Kashyap's unique despondency in ordinary, understated situations of life.

TGIYB goes where few Bollywood films have dared to go. Mehboob's 1941 film Bahen that had Nalini Jaywant in the lead role had a strong underlying plot that hinted at a brother's obsessive-possessive love for his sister. Deepa Mehta's Fire was a quiet shout out against feudal patriarchal systems that berates sexuality in women or their need for self fulfilment.

The inherent sadness in two lonely sisters-in-laws exploring each other's bodies as a means self-expression was the high point of Fire. There have been weaker attempts at exploring the contentious subject of incest in Indian films. A ridiculously self congratulating effort was the film Janani starring Bhagyashree. It was derided for trivializing an issue that is a scourge.

A man falls in love and has premarital sex with a woman who may or may not be his biological sibling. As mainstream cinema goes it was a diluted version of a steamy potboiler that in the end did not dare to alienate a paying audience nor did it respect their intelligence.

The systemic adaptation and dilution of foreign cinema resulted in a feeble reinvention of the Korean masterpiece Oldboy. While Oldboy was a superb study of incest, vengeance and invasion of the sacred mindspace, its Hindi version Zinda missed the point completely.

Why are Indian directors uncomfortable when it comes to an issue that cannot be looked in the eye? Is commercial success the only barometer for Indian cinema?

Yes, I'm talking to you, don't look away. You who have rubbed yourself against your minor daughter, watched your sister bathing, who will tell your stories? It took a Kashyap to finally make a decent film that took a serious look at interpersonal relationships gone bad.