Victoria director Sivaranjini J: I want to flip male-driven narratives with women
Victoria, the quietly powerful debut by Angamaly-native Sivaranjini J, is set almost entirely within the four walls of a modest beauty parlour in her hometown. Through its all-women ensemble and mostly single-location structure, the film becomes a delicate, immersive portrait of everyday intimacies: women talking, working, laughing, arguing, in a space carved out entirely for themselves. After a warmly received premiere at the 29th International Film Festival of Kerala (IFFK), the film reaches global audiences at the ongoing 27th Shanghai International Film Festival (SIFF), standing as the only Indian entry in the Asian New Talent competition.
Developed under the Kerala State Film Development Corporation’s (KSFDC) Women's Empowerment scheme, Victoria was written and directed by Sivaranjini as she was pursuing her PhD at IIT Bombay. A graduate of NID Ahmedabad with a background in editing, she brings to the film a deep attentiveness to texture, space, and unsaid emotions. In this interview, she reflects on the film's festival rejections, unexpected breakthroughs, what it means to create without the burden of industry expectations, and more.
Excerpts:
Victoria has now been selected for a prestigious platform like the SIFF. How does it feel to make that transition from the IFFK to such a major global stage?
Honestly, we didn’t expect it. After our premiere at IFFK, we were told that most international festivals prefer world premieres, and nearly all the rejections we got were because of that. We tried reaching out to curators, but the answer was mostly the same. Even in Shanghai, most of the films in this competition are having their world premieres, so I didn’t think we stood a chance. That’s why the selection came as such a lovely surprise. For a small, government-backed film with no big names, made by a team of first-timers, it really means the world to us.
What was the initial spark that led you to this story?
About five years ago, I used to visit a small beauty parlour in Angamaly quite regularly. It was nothing fancy, just a modest, everyday place for women. What stayed with me was this odd image of a rooster sitting near the toilet with its legs tied. There was even a board that said "No entry for men," and yet here was this rooster inside. That contrast felt both strange and poetic. I made a quick note on my phone that said, "A rooster inside a ladies’ beauty parlour." Around then, the KSFDC had announced a scheme to support women filmmakers. They were only asking for a synopsis, so I sent something in. I didn’t have a full script, just fragments and that vivid image.
The character of Victoria is partly based on a friend of the same name who works at that parlour. With her permission, I borrowed aspects of how she carries herself, how she speaks, and even how she moves. I also began observing the space more deeply. I noticed how women used it not just for beauty treatments but as a place to talk and unwind. Some would come by in the afternoon and stay until evening. I picked up on real conversations and mannerisms. I also included a relationship conflict from personal experience. That blend of the real and the emotional became the foundation of the story. Later, I was mentored by editor Priya Krishnaswamy, and eventually our project was selected by KSFDC.
What made you choose Meenakshi Jayan for the role of Victoria?
After writing the script, I had a clear idea of the six main characters. For Victoria, I pictured someone with a certain physicality. We put out a call for open auditions and, after several rounds, finalised Meenakshi (Jayan), Sreeshma (Chandran), Steeja (Mary), and the rest of the cast. Almost all of them had only acted in short films before, so we organised a workshop to help them ease into their roles. By the time we went on floors, everyone had grown comfortable. Meenakshi is a very intelligent actor who internalised the emotional tone of the character during pre-production. She also learned the Angamaly slang and spent time at a real parlour to observe procedures and mannerisms. The way she handles the rooster in the film, with such ease and spontaneity, is not something just anyone can pull off.
As a first-time filmmaker, what were some of the specific challenges you faced during the process?
Apart from a few college shorts, I mostly worked as an editor. Once I began my PhD, I drifted away from filmmaking and often questioned if I would ever return. Filmmaking is so collaborative, and I missed that energy. Working on a government-backed film came with its own set of challenges, including delays, bureaucracy, and limited budgets. We had complex mirror shots and VFX that needed specialist help, which slowed us down. But in the end, it all became an incredible learning experience.
Was it important for you, as a filmmaker, to explore how these women navigate their lives without the film feeling preachy?
Yes, absolutely. We often see films about women’s issues slipping into sloganeering. Right from the writing stage, we were clear we didn’t want to go down that road. We wanted to portray the everyday in a way that felt natural. Even now, I still feel there is room to make it even more subtle (smiles). But I also know that our audience often asks, “Message evide? Message evide?” So I’m happy to see that people are still responding, even without the film spelling everything out.
The presence of men in the film is largely conveyed through sound rather than on-screen appearances. Was this a conscious narrative choice?
Yes, it was deliberate. I wanted to create a divide between the inside and the outside. At both the beginning and end of the film, there are men in the frames, but never inside the parlour. I stayed true to that idea of the 'No entry for men' sign. Apart from the lover’s face on a phone screen, I didn’t feel it was necessary to show him. His voice already carries so much weight in the story. I also enjoyed leaving the men who came to the door unseen. It added a touch of playfulness and kept the focus on the women.
The film features several single takes with complex blocking and overlapping dialogue. How did you and your cinematographer Anand Ravi approach those sequences?
I had visualised many of the scenes as long takes right from the script stage, especially the opening stretch. Anand (Ravi), who shot the film, is a close friend and we’ve worked on short films before. He’s someone who never discourages you, no matter how ambitious the shot. He stays calm, listens, and genuinely enjoys a creative challenge. Because of that, I never had to hold back. We started finalising the shot compositions for the long takes during rehearsals with the actors. It felt like choreographing a dance, and it was one of the most creatively satisfying parts of making the film. The actual shoot was more demanding, especially with handheld camera work, mirror shots, and coordination between the camera, actors, and sound. But it was creatively fulfilling when we finally got what we wanted on the monitor.
Looking ahead, what kinds of stories are you interested in exploring as a filmmaker?
I want to do something very different from Victoria next, in both form and narrative style. I am drawn to stories with a bit of playfulness, and I admire filmmakers who keep surprising their audience with each film. With Victoria, since it was produced by KSFDC, there were no commercial pressures. That allowed me to take risks like casting newcomers, working with an all-women ensemble, and creating a story that does not follow industry norms. These are choices I may not have been able to make as easily in a more mainstream setup. I was free to choose every detail, even something as basic as skin tone, without wondering how it would be received. That kind of creative freedom is rare, and I feel very fortunate to have had it. Going forward, I hope to make more female-driven films. I want to reimagine the kind of gripping, character-led stories we usually see through men, and flip those male-driven narratives with women at the centre.
