‘Nayanthara: Beyond The Fairytale’: A heartfelt yet incomplete portrait of a superstar

A contemplative Nayanthara is seated among her team, doodling in a notebook, just ten days before her wedding, as they try to sort confusions over a change in the event venue. She then gets up and walks out onto the lawn of her sprawling mansion and takes a moment to explain why she, who seldom gives interviews, said yes to a Netflix documentary on her life. “I just want everyone to feel a little bit of hope…a little bit of happiness when they see other people’s happiness,” says Nayanthara, just before the title Nayanthara: Beyond The Fairy Tale appears on screen. The film stays true to her words – a feel-good narration that focuses on the emotional ups and downs of a lone woman who made her way to stardom in a rigidly patriarchal industry. But beyond that, in Nayanthara’s world, love takes centre stage.

Amith Krishnan’s documentary pieces together the making of Nayanthara from when she was Diana Kurian, daughter of an Air Force officer and a homemaker, hailing from Kerala’s Kottayam. Through anecdotes from her mother Omana Kurian, director Sathyan Anthikad who launched her acting career with Manassinakkare (2003), director Fazil, actor Raadhika Sarathkumar, Nagarjuna, and many others, we see how this young woman became ‘Lady Superstar’, a moniker given to her by fans. 

In a particular scene, actor Tamannaah Bhatia says, “To break the pattern, you have to be part of the pattern.” She points out how Nayanthara used versatility to her own advantage while also staying part of mainstream cinema, branding herself as commercially viable. 

Though family and colleagues describe Nayanthara as a steadfast woman of grit, when she speaks, there is a running thread of a long search for love and company amidst all the bustle, and how conflict pushed her to be what she is. This is perhaps the most endearing payback of watching Nayanthara: Beyond The Fairy Tale — it lets us in on the actor’s inner world, one that most women may find too relatable, irrespective of where they are positioned in life. Strong women are glorified, but should they be pushed to that corner in the first place? Nayanthara answers this question gently, but poignantly.

“I have always been a loner. When you go through a low phase, no one stands by you. For me, no one did,” Nayanthara says, recalling the severe body shaming she faced post her Tamil film Ghajini. She also touches upon her romantic relationships without naming any of her ex-partners. “I left the industry because one man told me to. I was never given an option,” she says about her two-year break, which was reportedly on the insistence of her then romantic partner. Explaining how that phase “broke” her, she says that she hoped a day would come when the world understood that she was not the problem and that falling in love should not cost a woman so much. 

Nayanthara addresses the slut shaming she has been put through over the years for her relationships, asking why only the women are questioned on these and not the men. Subtly, but movingly, she reveals her vulnerabilities, unpacking the female experience in a male-dominated industry. After this point, all her wins begin to feel personal, because, in many moments, she becomes many women most of us know and live as.

Vignesh Shivan, director and Nayanthara’s husband, is a big part of the documentary. She sees him as the lover “her soul has been searching for,” the calm to her chaos. I must admit that though their story exudes a certain sense of romantic hopefulness, at many points, Nayanthara’s pedestalisation of her partner for simply being there for her is jarring. But considering how most women who have had turbulent relationships are tuned to consider basic emotional safety as the only benchmark, it is evident why a stable partner makes her so happy. And in Nayanthara’s world, love, companionship, and a sense of home are everything. 

But what makes Nayanthara: Beyond The Fairy Tale appealing also becomes its undoing. As a biographical documentary, the film comes across as an incomplete portrait of the actor, focusing very little on her professional choices and her foray into film production and entrepreneurship. There is little commentary on the film industry as well, especially at a time like now when women are vocal about systemic harassment and income inequality.

The film also plays it quite safe, touching no nerves about star privilege, considering she has worked with industry stalwarts. It also ignores aspects like the patriarchal standards of female representation on screen. Nayanthara's career has also seen many controversies, triggered by personal and professional events. But the documentary steers clear of such incidents, which is quite surprising, making the whole endeavour look like an attempt to project a certain carefully curated image of the actor.

In effect, the film leaves the viewer feeling they know Nayanthara a little better, but never really tells us how she became one of cinema's most bankable female stars. Where did her strength come from? What did she do to pick the right roles that set her career on a blazing trail of success? Has she cracked the code for how women can propel themselves ahead in an industry where their lives are unfairly audited down to every minute detail? We don’t know. 

Disclaimer: This review was not paid for or commissioned by anyone associated with the film. Neither TNM nor any of its reviewers have any sort of business relationship with the film’s producers or any other members of its cast and crew.