Minding The Body

However, the manner in which Manisha is trying to get back at Nair is proving to be problematic and self-defeating. The curtains on the drama could have come down with the high court stay on the film's release last week. Instead, she chose to take the battle to a number of other fronts: the National Commission for Women, Bal Thackeray, and i&b minister Sushma Swaraj. As one sms joke goes, she could be appealing to Osama bin Laden next. In fact, as we go to press, the Bombay High Court has indicated that it would take contempt action against her for taking her grievance to extra-constitutional authorities despite the pending appeal.

"She simply wanted some publicity because she wants to stand in the elections," claims Nair. If that's true, then, surely, there's something wrong with her sense of politics. "She has not fought with a mature, long-term perspective but like a celebrity who has been snubbed," says Pachauri. Manisha's action gives further fillip to Thackeray's unnamed authority within the industry. Ironically, his consent was sought once earlier for the release of another Manisha film, the Mani Ratnam-directed Bombay. Similarly, asking for a ban of a film even after the censor certification is anti-democratic and against free expression. "It has become a personal power game. This was an avoidable mess and the parties should have worked upon a solution in a more intelligent manner," says filmmaker Tanuja Chandra. "It's a battle of egos which will settle down only when the egos are busted," says an industry insider.

Understandably, not many are taking sides. Last heard, even the Shiv Sena supremo has turned down a request to see the film—a special screening was arranged for him in Mumbai on Thursday. For a cash-strapped industry, the timing of Manisha's move is off kilter. "She may be justified, but the order has meant a terrible loss to the theatres," says trade analyst Amod Mehra. "She has every right to protest but theatres were vandalised and exhibitors had to suffer," says Chandra. For actress Seema Biswas, it is nothing but a lack of understanding between the two parties. "As a woman I understand what Manisha's going through. This didn't happen with me because Shekhar Kapur and I had an agreement (over the use of a body double in Bandit Queen)," she says.

Manisha's now fighting a lonely battle in a divided industry. "It is the actress who allows herself to get into such trouble and should not complain about being exploited," Hema Malini is reported to have said. Unfortunate, because it brushes aside an opportunity for actresses to focus on a genuine problem, that of their on-screen representation. "The filmmaker must have the actress' consent on how she is portrayed on the screen. What if the producer had brought in another director to shoot some scenes for the film? Wouldn't it have interfered with Nair's authorship?" asks Shohini Ghosh of Jamia Millia's MCRC.There's another debate raging—in this sexist industry, would Nair have managed to do the same to a top-notch hero and got away with it? "It's exploitation. Manisha shouldn't have been subjected to all this," says actress Ayesha Jhulka. "She may have been naive but why condemn her for going to Thackeray and not take Nair to task for his indiscretion?" asks Komal Nahata, editor Film Information.

The contours of the issue apart, it has made an instant star out of Manisha's body double Jessica Choksi. In fact, the 18-year-old now claims that she's inundated with offers of character roles. She has also been threatening to approach the courts on the producer's failure to keep her identity a secret. For the film, in the meantime, the trouble has translated into good business—made in 16 days at a shoestring budget of Rs 60-65 lakh, it has registered great collections in the first week, driven, perhaps, by the audience curiosity. It mustered 90 per cent collection in the Delhi-UP territory and Bihar, and is doing well in Maharashtra. Losses, however, have been incurred in Bombay where its release got held up after the HC verdict. Also, the film's dubbed prints couldn't be moved to the southern territories.

Ironically, the film itself is not worthy of such attention and interest. A shameless copy of A Short Film About Love, Krzysztof Kieslowski's philosophical treatise on love and obsession, Ek Chhoti si... reduces the emotional depth and hypnotic imagery of the original into just another subpar chronicle of raging hormones. Despite the deletion of the "four" scenes, its gaze and frames remain indelicate. If there's someone who really needs to protest here, shouldn't it be Kieslowski?