Rima Kallingal Interview: It’s frustrating to be reduced to labels like “bold and beautiful”
More than a decade into her film career, actor Rima Kallingal refuses to be boxed by industry expectations. Although she was last seen in Neelavelicham (2023) on the big screen where she was also the producer, Rima’s name continues to make headlines for the interesting projects that she chooses to work in. The short film Lalanna’s Song (currently streaming on Mubi) is one of them, where she plays Miriam, a quiet, yet fierce witness to religious hatred and prejudices in the heart of Mumbai, along with Shoby (Parvathy Thiruvothu). “This piece was liberating,” shares Rima. “As both a human being and an artist, these issues have always troubled me, and it gave me a medium to confront those concerns directly—to look them in the eye,” she adds.
In this interview, Rima elaborates on these themes, why the ripples of the Hema Committee report haven’t died down, exploring different platforms to share stories, the importance of creating inclusive spaces for art, and more…
Lalanna's Song has a myriad of themes involved in it — death, microaggressions, religious hatred, women's agency, and more. How did you unpack the film's world and make profound meaning out of it?
When I first read Megha (Ramaswamy)'s script, the immediate impression was how wacky and surreal the story unfolded. But once we met each other, and did readings, I understood her vision and artistic intent. Her clarity made it easy to trust her and go with the flow.
In the world she created, themes like microaggressions and religious hatred—things we see around us in many forms—started to feel deeply personal.
While it didn't offer total clarity or resolution, it helped me process the chaos and reflect on what has been quietly weighing on me. Even if I haven't faced it directly, I know it's all around us, and that’s reason enough to care. In fact, the role and the script gave me a way to work through those emotions.
At its core, Lalanna’s Song is a horror film that feels both surreal and deeply real. Do you think we’ve made any real progress in confronting these horrors off-screen? And within this narrative, there's also a powerful thread of female friendship between Miriam and Shoby. Yet, mainstream cinema still shies away from exploring such bonds.
There’s definitely been a cultural shift when it comes to women’s agency, especially in the digital age. Women are more aware of what they deserve, vocal, and know that they have agency. But the world isn’t fully ready for that change, yet. Like all shifts, it comes with backlash, but progress is inevitable.
As for female friendships in cinema, they’ve long been underrepresented because the world has not woken up to the fact, or they do not want to wake up to the fact that it exists in the world that we live in.
Cinema is a very capitalist and very money-controlled industry. The industry often assumes there's no audience for movies on female friendships or female-led narratives. But that’s changing—women now have economic power, platforms, and are demanding to see themselves on screen and in pop culture. Films like Lalanna’s Song and Backstage are signs of that revival, and it's only going to grow from here.
Lalanna’s Song feels like a stark reminder that the religious tensions of the past still echo in today’s India, even as heartwarming stories of communal harmony continue coming up...
Yes, I think good and evil have always coexisted—the hatred and the harmony. That chaos is exactly where artists like Megha draw their questions from, as we see in Lalanna’s Song. Events that are unfolding in Gaza or the unrest within our own country leave us confused and helpless.
But works like this help me process that chaos—to live through it, understand it, and hopefully become more empathetic.
You have spoken about stepping behind the camera as a director. What kind of stories do you feel only you can tell as a director, and how do your experiences as actors and women in the industry shape that vision?
Yes, direction and writing are two areas I’m eager to explore. As a woman in the industry, I’ve realised that real change begins behind the camera—where decisions are made and stories take shape.
If you look at 100 years of cinema and simply swapped male protagonists with women, there are still countless untold stories. We’ve barely scratched the surface of what women go through—be it inspiring, dark, or even horrific. There's so much narrative ground left, and I truly believe both men and women are ready to see these stories on screen. I’m excited for that journey.
The Hema Committee report had exposed the Malayalam cinema industry's ugly side and several cases were registered on top stars. However, the wave has started to ebb as many weren't willing to fight the battle, and several women have lost their jobs. The cost of speaking out has become too high for many...
I want to clarify that what happened isn’t unique to the Malayalam film industry—it exists across industries. The reason it came to light here is because Kerala, being one of the most progressive states, had the systems, government, and society to support such a conversation.
At least we have reached this far in exposing it, trying to find a policy and a way out of this mess. It has not died down. The change has begun, and its ripples are already visible across the industry. Many have told me that this change has helped them. That is all that matters. Even if it helps just one woman feel safer or find her voice, that progress is worthwhile. I remain optimistic—we’ve started the conversation, and that’s the first step.
As a feminist who stands for your beliefs, what have been the hard lessons that you have learnt - personally and professionally?
Well, not a hard lesson, but one lesson is that you can’t unpack centuries of a patriarchal system in a day. It takes waves of feminism and generations of women slowly hammering away at it to get there. Sometimes there are big waves—WCC was one of them. And that’s okay. It goes on, it keeps changing, and there’s no stopping it.
You’ve spoken before about going through an identity crisis. In an industry that thrives on constant hustle, how do you align your personal well-being with your professional goals?
Yes, for a while, this industry and the world did confuse me—but I think that’s a rite of passage. I wouldn’t say I’ve figured everything out, but I’ve definitely centered myself. That crisis helped me break the myths I grew up with and rethink a lot about life. The difficult times teach you the most. As for what I did about it, I just owned who I am. And this time, I’m 100% sure of who that is. That feels great.
Although you have been on and off mainstream cinema, you have been busy working in these shorts, your dance production, and mostly concentrating on a space that you want to be in. Was this shift a deliberate move to reclaim your creative space?
I wouldn't say it was deliberate, but as an artist, you're always looking for avenues to express yourself and tell your stories. It’s a constant process. Today, with platforms like Instagram and other digital spaces, there are so many more ways to do that—and I want to use all of them. There's never really “enough” because there's so much to say, so much to do, and you want to live fully as an artist.
It’s been liberating not to stick to just one medium—to break that monopoly in your head. Exploring the stage the way I’m doing now has been fascinating. These platforms, especially OTTs, have given us freedom—where subjects like female friendships or the sexual spectrum, which were earlier untouched, are now being explored. I’m lapping up everything that comes my way—and I’m loving it.
How important is it for you to draw boundaries and resist being boxed into societal or industry-driven expectations?
It means everything to me—being human, experiencing every shade of emotion, and fully living all that life has to offer. I can’t stand the boxes we’re put into; they don’t do justice to anyone. As an actress, it’s frustrating to be reduced to labels like “bold and beautiful”. It is so one-dimensional and unfair, especially when male actors aren't held to the same standards.
Actors like KPAC Lalitha, Thilakan, Nedumudi Venu, or Kalpana had the freedom to play a range of roles. I feel envious of that. Heroines, even today, are often stuck in very stereotypical roles.
The West has long celebrated Broadway and theatre as mainstream entertainment. While India has a rich tradition of theatre and dance, accessibility and visibility remain challenges. Do you think enough is being done to bring these art forms to a wider audience, especially beyond urban cultural circles?
So true. We need to do much more to build and attract the right audience for stage productions. The beauty of connecting with a live audience and working within its constraints is such a beautiful process.
I was in New York recently and watched The Lion King. The fact that they have back-to-back shows all year round, and every single one is booked out, proves that a great production will always find an audience. I believe our government and society should do more—we have so much to offer the world.
I recently staged a contemporary piece called Neythe based on the handloom industry, but was told I couldn’t present it at the only government-hosted dance festival in Kerala. I was told it’s only for classical arts. So, where do contemporary artists go?