Subham movie review: A wacky, hilarious fable about female desire and masculinity
Subham(4 / 5)
We live in times where we are constantly distracted by memes, reels and everything on social media. The relationship we share with the Internet can be best described as addictive, keeping us in a perennial state of being stimulated. However, very few in the present generation know about the phenomenon of appointment viewing, a brief period of time everyday when we project all our inner desires and frustrations onto a fictional, garish TV show, before going back to reality — a phenomenon that overpowered our popular culture till just a few years ago before Internet became commonplace. Even more oddly, very few films and shows have attempted to capture the sub-culture. Praveen Kandregula’s Subham, produced by Samantha Ruth Prabhu, does that with great humour and precision.
Cast: Harshith Reddy, Shriya Kontham, Gavireddy Srinivas, Charan Peri, Shravani Lakshmi, Shalini Kondepudi
Director: Praveen Kandregula
There are little ways in which Subham captures the impact of popular television on our imaginations, while also satirising the TV industry itself. How the soap operas sell us on dazzling outfits, even amidst depressing story arcs. The opening scene — where a half-dead woman comes back to life to yell at the TV screen — is a stroke of pure genius. But it’s not just the influence of TV shows that this film focuses on. Under someone’s need for escapism lies a gaping hole in their personal lives, and under the obsessive soap opera watching habit lies a yearning for love, companionship, and respect — something most Indian women miss in their lives. Praveen, who previously made the much-acclaimed Cinema Bandi, hits the point home with subtlety, yet plenty of impact — and a huge credit goes to writer Vasanth Maringanti.
Also the writer of Cinema Bandi, Vasanth Maringanti explores some sharp themes while scripting this madcap fable about feminism and masculinity. Subham has the kind of unique premise that could go completely haywire while indulging in its wacky possibilities — but here, the narrative constantly moves in the right direction and escalates the tension amidst its many hilarious set-pieces.
Among the three male protagonists we have here, there is one of each kind — the one who is confused, the one who follows, and the one who leads. The last one (played by Srinivas Gavireddy), who also proclaims to be an ‘Alpha male,’ delivers the funniest moments as he gradually gets emasculated in the most uproarious of demeanors. In one of the developments, the ‘Alpha’ suggests a way that could help them get rid of their problem with ghosts. As that solution misfires later on, the three men learn one thing — they don’t understand their wives. And at the core of it, that’s what Subham is about — it redefines masculinity as the ability to understand and empathise with the women in your lives.
In an amusing throwaway visual, the protagonist’s friends stop him from getting down on his knees — even when he wants to make a proposal. There are bona fide commandments for being an ‘Alpha,’ and none of them include asking for help — something they unlearn with each hurdle in their journey of becoming a ‘good husband.’ Of course, Subham, for its all satirical tropes, is an optimistic movie — so the men come around. Yet, this doesn’t take away from the film’s biting moments of satire earlier where it takes a dig at the current obsession with ‘alpha’ masculinity.
There are so many delightfully absurd devices at play here. In a hilarious turn of events, the two worlds, divided by a TV screen, collide as the fandom directly confront their favourite screen idol, reprimanding him for everything problematic about his long-running TV show. Even the name of the TV show — ‘Janma Janmala Bandham’ (a bond spanning many lifetimes) — is a fabulous dig at how the world thrives in creating a never-ending quest for peace, instead of helping cultivate a society where the viewers don’t seek a closure with such desperation.
Later on, as the three wives sit down to write the perfect way to exorcise their own ghosts, you wonder if the writer is making a point about giving a space to their supressed voices, creating a world where everyone is equally listened to before the big decisions are made.
It’s also interesting that the film stages Srivalli and her husband (Harshith Reddy) as the protagonist couple — for it also gives us a peek into the inner life of a woman who lives with her in-laws, the most common family system in the Indian middle class. At one point, Srivalli, a working woman, feels guilty of distancing her husband because of her strong-headed personality, and suddenly starts behaving like a homemaker. You feel a tinge of fear, watching this moment unfold, knowing Telugu cinema’s tendencies to domesticate their ‘strong women’ — but that is where Subham stands apart. The writer-director team stage this moment as a momentary fear felt by Srivalli, not a permanent, personality-moulding experience. Srivalli’s fears, of not being an ‘ideal housewife,’ should be transient — and the team knows it.
Vivek Sagar deserves a special mention for his funky background music that keeps up with the manic energy of the narrative. Cinematographer Mridul Sujit Sen captures Bheemilipuram with disarming idyllicism and beauty — it looks like a town you want to settle down in, despite all its horrors. While all the lead actors — Harshith Reddy, Shriya Kontham, Gavireddy Srinivas, Charan Peri, Shravani Lakshmi, Shalini Kondepudi — put in commendable performances, Shriya and Srinivas particularly stand out. Among the ensemble cast, Rag Mayur makes a delightful appearance in a special cameo. Samantha Ruth Prabhu too flourishes in her brief cameo, bringing great deadpan humour to her scenes.
Subham, while making all the pertinent points it makes, is also written in a way that captures the truth of a specific phase in our recent history. It was a slightly different world 20 years ago, and much of the young generation might struggle to relate to. Yet what remains relevant, all these years later, is the need for more empathetic husbands, men who can communicate, men who know how to reach out for help, men who do not mansplain, and choose to admit that a plastic water tank is better than a cement tank.
In another absurd moment, Srivalli’s husband runs out on the street, escaping his wife’s wrath, only to see the street filled with all the other men in the town. They are all worried, scared, panicky, but they don’t utter a word to each other. The visual of hundreds of men worrying in silence — that’s the peak male loneliness epidemic we read about in internet discourse, and Subham captures it with inspired humour. As Oscar Wilde once said, if you want to tell the truth, be funny; otherwise; they will kill you. More Telugu filmmakers could take a leaf out of Wilde’s book, and follow in the footsteps of Vasanth Maringanti and Praveen Kandregula.