Quietly, smoothly, Shruthi Sharanyam’s B 32 Muthal 44 Vare flows from one woman to another, and to a queer person in their midst, like a sheet of paper in the wind. You wouldn’t notice when the shifts between the stories end, because by then they have somehow floated into each other’s lives. Without drama, without preaching about sisterhood, one becomes the pillar of support to another. The film, Shruthi’s first as a director of feature films, touches the lives of six such people, going through various crises, small and big. But the way they are resolved, without daredevil moments or a tiring monologue, you can leave with a comforting picture in your head.
Shruthi chooses to introduce each of her six protagonists with their name and bust size. Ramya Nambeesan, Zarin Shihab, Ashwathy B, Anarkali Marikar, Krishna Kurup, and Raina Radhakrishnan play people of different ages, backgrounds, and sizes, going through one or another crisis related to their bodies. One has had a mastectomy after which her husband seems to treat her differently. Another worries over her petite size becoming a hurdle in her much-needed job. Yet another has had a teenage pregnancy, while the fourth person is queer.
The script fills each of their stories with seemingly casual moments that can resonate badly with one of the characters. For the woman who had a mastectomy, the distance kept by the husband comes through in the way he avoids looking at her or simply enjoying a casual conversation. To the minor mother who goes to school, the hurt comes every evening when she returns home and has to pretend like she didn’t just have a baby. The script is as careful in catching these minute details, as it is in conveying the more drastic ones, viz. the sexual harassment of a woman behind closed doors that ends with a slap and an angry slamming of the door. Cinematographer Sudeep Elamon’s frames begin with an overview and then let you in on the scene, closer to the women and their faces that change.
Most of the performances effortlessly draw you to the story and keep you there. Anarkali looks and acts like she has done a lot of research to play the queer person who seems mindless of appearances. Zarin’s expressions flicker quickly from excitement to disappointment as the loudness around her ends and the camera takes you closer to her. Ashwathy as Jaya, a woman from a lower income household, is easily the most helpless of the lot, but raises her voice at the first sign of disrespect. Only some part of the script, especially the exchanges between a married couple, sound unreal, sputtered.
The men – Harish Uthaman, Sajin Cherukayil, Gibin Gopinath, and others – play their supporting characters appreciably well without vying for attention, the film obviously belonging to the women. Music by Sudeep Palanad is, for the most part, unobtrusive, but occasionally becomes hindering to the film.
What the film misses is the story of a plus-size woman, the one who is always cast aside because of her size. When the title of the film suggests a story of women with different body sizes, you expect that. But Shruthi has done plenty with the available resources and brought out a smooth, telling story you can’t help but connect to. Hers is one of the films that the Kerala State Film Development Corporation (KSFDC) is producing as part of its project to fund women filmmakers.
The film had a preview in Thiruvananthapuram on March 13, and is expected to release in theatres on April 6.
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.