It was gut wrenching. The violence and depictions of rape are intense and realistic and constant. Poolan Devi's brutal punishment of her husband, murder of 20 men in the village where she was gang-raped are equally gut wrenching but also almost liberating. I mean, it feels good to see a woman fully express her anger at the right people, but it feels awful to know just how complicated and entrenched the issues are between men and women, how prevalent the abuse of women and girls, how continuous the conflicts between high and low (caste, class...i don't think there's so very much difference, in terms of the world-wide patterns of oppression.)

In terms of the politics of the movie, I have two thoughts. First, I am not Indian...and the whole time I thought to myself, "This happens everywhere." What was hardest for me to understand was how quietly villagers stood and watched the abuse. Second, I agree with the movie review that the larger, national politics were swept aside. The ending scene was of Poolan "surrendering", to cheers of low-caste crowds. This was an amazing scene to me...that a "criminal" could make a surrender under such ceremonial decoration. I wanted to know more about that, and also I wanted to know why the bandits were as entrenched in caste issues as the villages.

I avoid violent movies almost entirely. _Bandit Queen_ used violence appropriately, I thought, because all of the violence was crucial to the unfolding of the story, and because every death was marked as significant to someone. The inclusion of widows mourning for 20 funeral fires was a good example: each man who died was part of a grieving family.

My problem with violence in films, and depiction of women under severe oppression is this: the day after I saw the film I found that it was difficult to take a walk through the park where I go regularly. Every man on the trail became a potential rapist. Though _Bandit Queen_ is a story about how a woman fought back, the truth is that for all the times that Poolan Devi was tough and ruthless in extracting her revenge, she had also been overpowered, helpless to defend herself, and her abuse was witnessed, EVERYTIME, by caste-members, family, women, villagers who could or would do nothing to help her. The story seems to say that abuse of women is usual, and only an extraordinary woman can fight back. There are no sources of strength, justice, protection for the ordinary women. For this reason, I wonder how we can tell the story of abuse and sexual harrassment of women without increasing our fear and sense of helplessness, making it more likely that we will all hide in our houses and be quiet when witnessing the abuse of another.

-- Anonymous

I saw the Bandit Queen on Monday night and it took almost two days for my shattered nerves to recover (btw I had already read the book) and think objectively about the movie. I recommend not seeing it if you can't stand violence. Usually I avoid all films with violence but I made an exception in this case coz of all the controversy.
Shekhar Kapur did a good job in the filming of it and showed quite a spectacular Chambal Valley. One could feel the desolation of the area and the ravines in particular. The characters talked in the local Hindi dialect and the dialogue was good but lost at times in the translation. The music was great and there wasn't enough of Nursat Fateh Ali Khan. However, as soon as one started appreciating any of this, wham...

Kapur starts off the movie with the words "This is a true story" and then proceeds to create his own interpretation of what he thinks Phoolan Devi was like and takes total liberties with the sequence of events that happened to the real Phoolan. Viewed through his eyes, I saw her an emotional, animalistic person who operated on instinct and had revenge as her primary motive for existence. At times I expected her to start grunting rather than talk. She displayed no intelligence and if she had any she hid it very well. I couldn't figure out on what basis did the male dacoits join under her leadership after Vikram Mallah (the gang leader and her lover was killed). I would think that being a dacoit is no picnic and one would wish for an intelligent and cunning leader.

The only message the movie had was the mindless violence perpetrated by the upper castes on the lower castes and especially on the lower caste women and the cruelty and inhumanity of marrying off eleven-year olds to 35-year men. I'm not saying this is not true in India but in the instance of Phoolan Devi, despite truly horrendous things happening to her she was able to empower herself. Maybe Kapur couldn't handle the thought of a woman not only managing to save her sanity after numerous gang rapes, beatings, humiliations, and every possible adversity but to rise above them, lead a gang of hardened dacoits in the notorious Chambal Valley after the death of her lover, and then negotiate a quite a surrender agreement with the police. Maybe it was safer for him to think that women who can survive such ordeals do so purely on a basic animalistic survival instinct. (If you have ever heard her in TV interviews, she comes across as an intelligent and savvy woman.)

I also found the end of the film quite implausible. Kapur shows Phoolan having a hysterical breakdown after all her gang members except one are killed and she is on the run with no ammo or supplies (all of this is untrue by the way) but she manages to arrange a pretty extensive list of surrender terms. Kapur couldn't resist the Spielberg "the end of the movie should be as action packed, nerve racking, and exciting as possible even if it is untrue and ruins the previous 2 hours of the film" phenomenon (e.g. Schindler's List).

This sounds nitpicky (and probably is) but it brings to my mind the phenomenon of exoticizing the mysterious East/Orient. Phoolan Devi's name is translated as the Goddess of Flowers to further the exotic myth of a female bandit in mysterious, strange, fabulous India. Phoolan does mean flowers and devi is goddess. So where's the nit? Well, the use of Devi after a female name in this instance is the same as using as Bai in Maharashtra, Kumari in UP (?), Kaur among Sikh women, and Singh among the Sikh men. It is a means of identity not to be translated literally. I could just see Amrit Singh being translated as Lion of the nectar of the gods. Sounds a bit ridiculous doesn't it.

You were wondering about the hoopla surrounding the surender of a "criminal" like Phoolan Devi. The Chambal Valley (extending through Madhya Pradesh and Utter Pradesh) has had a long tradition of dacoity and a number of these dacoits turned to dacoity because of feuds, oppression, or some sort of injustice. A number of them were from the lower, oppressed castes and frequently distributed their spoils among the poor villagers who gave them shelter and food. Also, many of them directed vendettas against specific segments of society and of course, in many instances, like Phoolan Devi, the upper castes. So to a lot of the poor and lower caste people, the bandits were heroes.

If you can get hold of Mala Sen's "Bandit Queen"--the book on Phoolan's life, I think most of your questions will be answered. The book is excellent and pretty well written. In fact I found it hard to read about the rapes and the other graphic details. You will be interested to know that Phoolan Devi never referred directly to her rapes using the word "balatkar" (rape). She referred to it as "mazak" literally tranlated as joke. She says of her first gang rape, when her uncle got her arrested and taken to the local police station, "police ne bahout mazak kiya" (the police had a lot of fun with me).

The book also discusses some of the media coverage of Phoolan Devi and what happened to her family members afterwards. I believe from what I've read about the film, it differs from the book. Since I haven't seen the movie I don't know if it's enough to get my goat (one of my pet peeves). Phoolan's problems started when her father's younger brother took over their family field and she constantly tangled with the uncle trying to get the field back. The uncle also incited the villagers against her and teamed up with the local, upper caste landlords against her.

y the way, there's a book on Phoolan Devi going around written by some Frenchwoman--avoid this book like the plague. It's a badly written, fictionalized account (she never met Phoolan Devi or talked to anyone who knew her) of Phoolan Devi's life and falls into the category of heaving-bosoms-and-cheap-grocery-store romances. --

-- Sonya Pelia

In my view, it certainly was an emotional roller-coaster ride, with all of the above emotions, but it was also an irreverent portrayal. I'm not sure I'd call it sleazy but I got the strong impression that the filmmaker was cashing in on what the reviewer calls "moral depravity"/ what I would call the very strong need for certain audiences to watch graphic violence, gang rapes and the like. I'm not sure what Shekhar Kapur's intentions were, but I suspect that he doesn't mind the controversy too much. The fact is that the movie was an interpretation of Phoolan Devi's life --and while I was watching it, I was constantly reminded of it. Phoolan Devi was a true outlaw, but from what I was told (from a private conversation between the filmmaker who showed this in Ithaca and Shekhar Kapur), Shekhar Kapur really didn't believe that a woman in India could be a true outlaw. The result is that with this film, you're left with an image of Phoolan Devi that doesn't quite fit the image one has of her from several years of media coverage. Shekhar Kapur has "typical- Indian-woman-ized" her, i.e., defined her in the context of her relationships with men, being victimized at all points, and being an avenger throughout her "career". But where's Phoolan Devi the victimizer? It's a bit patronizing. According to several sources, she didn't like the film at all and refused to give her consent to its release, until Channel 4 paid her 40,000 pounds. One of the things that the censor board wants removed (apart from the gang rapes by the police) is the statement in the beginning of the film, "This is a true story." That's only fair.
The main effect that this film had on me, after it bombarded me with scene after scene of rapes, gang and otherwise, and blood and gore, was (well, relief that it was over, and) this feeling of helplessness... life's a bitch and then you have a movie made of you! I really wouldn't recommend it to anyone --I think I saw it because I hadn't seen an Indian movie in over a year, but after this film I felt like I had just seen a year's worth of the most awful American movies, the kind that "Pulp Fiction" was making fun of.

-- Mona Oommen

On another note, I am currently reading the book on Phoolan Devi, "India's bandit Queen" by Mala Sen. I found the book very interesting. Sometime earlier there was a discussion on sawnet about it and the moviev and I remember that some thought that the movie was exploitative. The book isn't and I highly recommend it everyone. The events therein seem so fantastic, that they do appear movie-like. Also, it is not just about one person, but rather about the community of dacoits (or rebels as they call themselves) from Chambal valley. It is interesting how the author established a rapport with Phoolan Devi and her family.

-- Manisha Ranade

Film description: Based upon the life of Phoolan Devi, who led a gang of dacoits in the Chambal Valley.