Kutch Express Shows Women’s Stories Can Be Box Office Gold

Kutch Express (2023) begins with an enchanting sequence: A group of giggling, whispering women emerge into the deserted streets of Kutch after having administered doses of sleeping pills to their husbands and mothers-in-law. They pool into a chhagdo [a large autorickshaw] and convene at one of Kutch’s many barren patches of land. Here, for one night a month, the women chatter freely and pass around a suspiciously fat, rolled beedi. This women’s club is called Sisoti, which means “whistle” in Gujarati.  The group’s matriarch, Baiji, played by Ratna Pathak Shah, explains the real meaning of the chosen name. “Why sisoti? Why not society?” a character asks her. “Society remains mute. We would rather whistle,” Baiji replies. 

Telling the story of an unhappy marriage, Kutch Express is the kind of small film that isn’t expected to set the cash registers ringing. However, since its release on January 6, it’s been running successfully in theatres across Gujarat and in Mumbai, as well as in Dubai and the United States of America. Actor and producer Manasi Parekh believes Gujarati cinema is “at this stage where it has suddenly discovered that it has wings and it can fly!” 

Parekh plays the protagonist Monghi in Kutch Express, but the film’s casting coup was to have Ratna Pathak Shah in the cast. This is Shah’s first Gujarati film and when asked why she hasn’t acted in one before – the actress is part Gujarati and knows the language – Shah told Film Companion, with characteristic candour, “Whatever little I had seen of Gujarati cinema in the past decades, none of it aligned with my taste. Most of them were old-fashioned and regressive.” That Kutch Express got Shah’s approval gives you some indication of its progressive politics.  

The film revolves around Monghi (played by Parekh), a vahu and mother in a Kutchi household. She is “good” in every way a cinematic woman can be – she is a doting mother, a selfless daughter-in-law and a graceful recipient of the constant insults from her husband. She is also a gifted artist — a fact her husband (who is, ironically, a curator at Kutch’s museum) is incapable of comprehending. This is a comment on both the power dynamics of a rural, heterosexual marriage as well as on the academisation of art and its relationship with the artisans of Kutch (why isn’t Monghi’s creative work worthy of the ‘art’ tag that is accorded to museum exhibits?). While Kutch Express can come across as schematic in its approach, the film is an honest attempt at portraying an unhappy marriage. Most notably, the film is worthy of praise for being a female-centric drama in a nascent industry that invests overwhelmingly in comedies with male protagonists. Parekh spoke to Film Companion about her labour of love. Edited excerpts below. 

You mentioned that you were advised to make this film in Hindi. Why was it important that you do this in Gujarati, that too in a dialect?

I think it was very important to do it in Gujarati because the soul of the story and the conception of the idea was in Gujarati. I feel that if the original thought and idea is retained, then there’s a freshness to it, which when you adapt to Hindi loses its organic essence. Also, the dialogue of the film is almost like a character in itself. We worked very hard on the screenplay (by Rahul Mallick, Viraf Patel and Karan Bhanushali) and the dialogue (by Ram Mori). Gujarati audiences watch as much as they hear the dialogue so we were very particular with that. It’s not just a line for the sake of a line. The language is fresh – it's not an urban Gujarati film set in a city, right? It’s set in a town, but at the same time it’s universal. There are Kutchi elements that we have added, there’s Kathiawadi Gujarati. These little things end up making the world seem very real.

This is Ratna Pathak Shah’s first Gujarati film. Did it take any convincing from your end to bring her on board? What was it like to work with her? 

It’s very interesting, while we were casting for the film we were very clear that we did not want to cast the obvious choices. Whenever you have a Gujarati saasu (mother-in-law) there are these six, seven names that are always mentioned. People normally cast from them but we were like, “No, we want to cast Ratna ben.” Because everybody associates [her] so much with Maya Sarabhai’s character – obviously she has done a lot of work after that – but that image of her is still very fresh in people’s minds. So, we thought that if she plays Baiji’s role, she’ll bring another element to it. But we weren’t sure if she will say yes because we were not sure if she wanted to do Gujarati films.

We sent an email to her manager and she reverted in 10 days saying that she wanted to do the film! She loved the way it was written, she loved her character, she loved the overall story and what it was trying to say, and that for us was great because it's only our – my husband and my – second production. We can't imagine anybody else as Baiji. 

The film is a love letter to Kutch – through the language, the artisans, the stunning cinematography and of course, the safed rann (the salt marsh). What made you pick this place specifically?

It was very important for us to place the story in Kutch because art is a very important element in the film and in Monghi's journey as an artist. Something that is amazing about this land is the creativity and the art. Be it the music, be it the weaves, be it the handicraft. Everything about this place is so beautiful. Also, we’ve seen a very stereotypical depiction of Kutch thus far. In films and in songs, you only see the White Rann, but Kutch has so much more! In the film we've shown Khadiya Dhro, which is almost like the Grand Canyon. We shot on the actual location in Madhapar; the village, the house, everything that we've shot in is [the actual location]. We haven't done up anything. So we thought that it would be very beautiful to have Monghi’s story (shown through) this town and the art. 

A lot of the artists, and a lot of women who are very good at art do not pursue it because their families think that it's lesser to be an artist. The idea of art being lesser is universal and happens not just in a Kutch but it can happen anywhere. We came across this lady in the US and she was obviously from a very well-to-do family. When she saw the trailer she had tears in her eyes and she said, “Oh my god this is literally what my husband said to me – ‘The women of our house do not work outside.’” This idea is especially prevalent in Gujaratis. 

Also, the museum – the way the museum over there has been archived is incredible. It's almost like the V&A Museum in London! And nobody knows about these things. We just thought it would be great to have all of those elements included visually. 

Monghi fits well into that mould of a pure, sacrificing woman. The only real deviation from that characterization is her decision at the end. Even Dharmesh is a familiar, entitled patriarch. Was there ever a time when you and your writers wanted to experiment a bit more with the characters?

Yes, we have seen this kind of depiction of a self-sacrificing woman but that's because it is a reality in a lot of ways. There are women like that. While I was enacting Monghi’s character, even though she is so completely different from me, there are so many elements to her that I connected with.

Even Dharmesh is a victim of patriarchy but doesn't realise it because he has internalised it so much. For example, right now in a Gujarati house specifically, the woman is asked to get the water for men. These are very small things, I would also do them in my house. You don’t question it. We thought that it was interesting that he's a curator, which means that he has an evolved sense of aesthetic, but also that he doesn't value the aesthetic that his wife brings. Even if he values it, he doesn’t care about it because she doesn't stimulate him enough. But at the same time when he has food that she has made, he cherishes it because he loves that taste and the familiarity of it. This tug and pull was something that we were playing with.

The film deals with unhappy marriages. Was there ever a fear that Gujarati audiences won’t be receptive to the content?

Yes, we were a little sceptical about audiences and what their reaction would be. But we are amazed … They all root for Monghi. Marriage or breaking up a marriage are very complex things. It’s a very mature topic that we’re dealing with. People tell us that in Gujrati [cinema] only comedies work, and you need a male-centric story or the box-office revenues won’t come. But we were very clear – let’s break these stereotypes with this film. It’s high time somebody did it. 

If you had to suggest three Gujarati films from different genres to our readers, what would they be? 

Apart from Kutch Express, I would recommend Hellaro (2019), Golkeri (2020) and Dear Father (2022). 

What about Gujarati cinema is the most exciting for you right now? 

There is so much potential because there is so much talent and there are so many stories from these small towns. My husband (Parthiv Gohil) is a singer, he travels across the world and constantly interacts with Gujarati families – from the richest of the rich to those in villages. Because I perform with him many times, I get to witness this. There are so many complexities and conflicts and so many stories that just need to be told. That aspect is very exciting for me.

After the success of Kutch Express, we have realised one thing: If you give really good content, and it is marketed correctly, then people go! They buy that ticket and go to watch that film. They don’t care about whether it is a male protagonist or a female protagonist; they connect with the story and the emotions.

Kutch Express is the first Gujarati film that’s going to be created in the Indian Sign Language. Today, we’re going to meet the people at Indian Sign Hands, Worli. From the 12th of this month, every Sunday, there’ll be shows for the deaf and dumb. We have reached out to other kinds of people to make sure that the film gets visibility. We have had shows where 300 saasus and bahus (mothers-in-law and daughters-in-law) have booked a theatre to watch our film. It’s incredible, right? Somebody from Bhavnagar told us, “If 13,000 people have watched Pathaan in our theatres, then 10,000 people have watched Kutch Express.”