In Tamil popular culture, a film that claims to be based on the ‘plight of farmers’ is immediately looked down upon. One could say that the Tamil audience is tired of how filmmakers abused the trope of ‘save agriculture, save farmers’ in numerous films over the last few years. After the massive protests against the ban of jallikattu in 2017, movies on farmers were a hot commodity in Kollywood. Kavan (2017), Kadaikutty Singam (2018), Kana (2018), Seema Raja (2018), and Bhoomi (2021) are some of the movies that hopped on the bandwagon of the ‘save farmers’ trope.
However, romanticising agriculture and making movies on the struggles of farmers is not new to Tamil cinema. MGR’s Vivasayi (1967) and Sivaji Ganesan’s Pattikada Pattanama (1972) were some of the early films in this genre. Despite being a prominent theme, the political tone in the country, and sometimes the state, has had a bearing on how agriculture and its problems were presented in Tamil cinema.
After India gained independence in 1947, the first Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru wanted the country to be self-reliant and believed that industrialisation would pave the way for it. The 1960s were the time period when the Green Revolution, which pushed for modernising agriculture to increase output and reduce dependence on food imports, was introduced in India. The slogan ‘Jai Jawan Jai Kisan’ (hail the soldier, hail the farmer) popularised by India’s second Prime Minister Lal Bahadur Shastri in 1965, gave zeal to soldiers and farmers after Pakistan had attacked the country. The attempt at invoking patriotism and self-reliance found its way to the movies as well. For instance, Vivasayi, starring MGR revolved around the story of a young man who wanted to revolutionise agriculture and increase yield for altruistic purposes.
In the 60s and the 70s, Tamil cinema began focussing on the problems surrounding agricultural land and took a slightly left-leaning approach. There were several movies where agricultural labourers would revolt against the landlords. This phenomenon extended to the 80s as well, which saw movies like Alai Osai (1985), Idhu Engal Needhi (1988), Sivappu Malli (1981), and Kann Sivandhal Mann Sivakkum (1983), to name a few. The hero almost always rebelled by helping agricultural workers organise themselves and demand better wages.
With the 90s and early 2000s, Tamil cinema began focussing even more on movies set in villages and centred around agriculture. But unlike the movies of the previous decade, they romanticised village life and the unofficial caste hierarchies that prevailed. Movies like Nattamai (1994), Chinna Gounder (1992), Thevar Magan (1992), and Surya Vamsam (1997), among others, not only solidified feudal systems that had developed around agriculture, but also conformed to pre-existing gender roles. Stalin Rajangam, a film critic and writer who has written extensively on Tamil cinema, says, “Movies in the 90s encouraged people to take pride in their regional caste identities and the dominant caste man’s muscle power [in terms of wealth and physical prowess], which can be seen as extensions of agriculture itself.”
However, this theme, which saw a gradual decline over the years, resurfaced post the Jallikattu protests of 2017. With the ‘save farmers’ trope coming back to mainstream discussion, movies once again began connecting Tamil identity to agriculture. Any threat to agriculture was seen as a threat to Tamil identity itself, as popularised by movies, other pop culture artefacts, and politicians like Seeman.
A group of young men charging towards an aggravated bull, in what can be considered a brash display of masculinity, is no new sight in Tamil Nadu. This sport, known as jallikattu, has long been a part of Tamil culture and has had a visible impact on the popular imagination. It was then no surprise that thousands of youngsters gathered in Chennai’s Marina Beach when the Supreme Court banned jallikattu in 2017. The jallikattu protest was one of the largest cultural movements of that decade in Tamil Nadu. Soon enough, there was worldwide support for the cause and the ban was lifted shortly after.
Apart from close ties with agriculture, jallikattu has also been a source of caste and masculine pride for generations. The sport is by nature casteist, with only dominant caste Hindus allowed to conduct the sport. Even as recently as January 2023, a bull raised by the Paraiyar community (Scheduled Caste) was not allowed to participate in the jallikattu in Madurai’s Palamedu, despite the intervention of the Madras High Court. Jallikattu has also been the vehicle for masculine pride and Tamil cinema has seen the fathers of many a female protagonist declaring that whoever tames the bull will wed his daughter.
Roughly six months before the protests, independent music artist Hiphop Tamizha, aka Adhi, released a jallikattu anthem titled ‘Takkaru Takkaru’. In the 12-minute music video, Adhi weaves a web of conspiracies about how destroying native cow breeds by banning jallikattu will pave the way for corporate companies who are vying to destroy Tamil identity. The argument made in the video was that bulls have become redundant with the introduction of tractors and the banning of jallikattu would further threaten their existence, as farmers would not see the need to invest in them.
The air in Tamil Nadu was charged with a pro-farmer, anti-corporation sentiment after the jallikattu protests. In fact, some theatres even stopped selling Coca Cola and Pepsi after the protests. Tamil filmmakers capitalised on this sentiment and made a string of movies centred around agriculture and the ‘struggle’ of farmers. The Vijay Sethupathi-starrer Kavan released in 2017. A year later, Kadaikutty Singam, Kana, and Seema Raja hit the screens. While the central theme of these movies was agriculture, they had vastly different takes on the profession and the struggles around it. However, these movies neither delved on the feudalistic nature of the profession, nor looked at agriculture through the lens of caste and gender.
In Seema Raja, the antagonist Kannan (played by Lal) tries to acquire large swathes of land to set up wind farms. The movie not only compares Kannan to the colonising British but the protagonist Seema Raja (played by Sivakarthikeyan) enters a similar deal to construct wind farms with a small ruler from Udaipur. Seema Raja, however, does not ‘exploit’ farmers. In its attempt to ‘save farmers’ from an exploitative villain, Seema Raja romanticises monarchy and reinforces the idea that certain outdated hierarchies are necessary for the larger good.
In Kadaikutty Singam, Gunasingam (played by Karthi) is a farmer who not only succeeds in his profession but also encourages students to take up farming along with their chosen careers. Directed by Pandiaraj of Pasanga fame, the movie is peppered with anti-caste dialogues and monologues from Gunasingam about the glory of agriculture. Yet, it does not examine the caste privilege that Gunasingam hails from. Nor does the movie explore the gender dynamics at play, as Gunasingam’s father Ranasimgam (played by Sathyaraj) is in the pursuit of another wife because his first wife did not give him a male child. Family life and agriculture is romanticised to such an extent that Gunasingam argues with his brother-in-law about stating his profession as ‘vivasayi’ (farmer) in an invitation card. However, seldom do we see him engaging in any type of physical labour required for agriculture.
Bhoomi was another movie that romanticised agriculture to no end. The Jayam Ravi-starrer made a weak case on why agriculture needs to be the most important profession in a country. Bhoomi not only follows the tried and tested trope of an evil corporate villain, but parrots some of the militant Tamil nationalist ideology propagated by the political party Naam Tamilar Katchi (NTK) and its founder Seeman.
In Bhoomi, the protagonist Bhoominathan is an astronaut who decides to return to his native village and pursue agriculture after a tragic family death. He rubs shoulders with Richard Child (played by Ronit Roy), a man who is part of the 13 families that are said to control all the corporations in the world. Bhoominathan vows to make farmers self-reliant with seeds stored in ancient temples and claims that ancient Tamil society had an advanced scientific temper, which he borrows from to achieve his goal.
The idea of the 13 families who are part of the Illuminati, a secret society that controls all the happenings of the world, is something that Seeman has legitimised in several of his speeches. In one such speech, Seeman explains how corporations run by 13 families exercise control over everything including agriculture. He also makes a racist comment, saying that these corporations “plan to turn Tamil Nadu into Somalia” by introducing chemical fertilisers, pesticides and genetically modified seeds that would strip the land off its fertility. This exact argument finds space in Bhoomi, racist Somalia dialogue and all.
As laughable as Seeman’s claims may appear to be, it is no joke that they are further pushed into mainstream discourse through movies like Bhoomi. Neither Seeman nor the makers of Bhoomi take into account the role of education and corporate jobs in helping a significant population from villages to escape the exploitative nature of agricultural labour. NTK and the movies on agriculture seem to hold educated youth accountable for the ‘destruction of agriculture’ rather than landowning farmers who have built a culture of exploitation around farming.
On similar grounds, Seeman has issues with the Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Act (MGNREGA) as well. The scheme too is targeted in Tamil movies for ‘destroying agriculture’. A popular argument put forward in the movies, such as Draupadi (2020), is that such schemes make labourers ‘lazy’ because they would get paid whether they work or not. This theory was popularised and legitimised by the NTK.
Seeman also rants about how there are no agricultural labourers to work on his farm, furthering the narrative that schemes like the MGNREGA pave the way for north Indian labourers to be employed in Tamil Nadu’s fields. It is to be noted that Seeman’s party is infamous for their anti-Telugu and anti-north Indian sentiments.
Seeman and NTK’s ideas on the MGNREGA scheme are similar to the anxieties of dominant caste landowners over not being able to find cheap agricultural labour. Nowhere in Seeman’s speech or movies like Draupadi and Seema Raja is there an inquiry into why schemes like MGNREGA were introduced or why people prefer to work for the government rather than the landed dominant caste. NTK seems to take this idea one step further by claiming that north Indian agricultural labourers are out to destroy the Tamil way of life, once again serving his party’s problematic ideals.
According to Stalin Rajangam, MGNREGA comes with its own set of problems but such schemes make agricultural work more organised. He says, “With schemes like MGNREGA, there is room to complain about the employer if wages are not paid or if they are reduced. There is no such space in traditional agriculture. So if traditional farmers wanted labourers, they should pay more than what the government does. This reluctance to pay an equitable wage is reflected in the movies, especially when they are made by dominant caste persons.”
Since the release of the Vijay starrer Kaththi (2014), an evil corporate villain appears to have become a necessity for movies on agriculture. The critique against corporations levelled by Tamil movies does not touch upon capitalism or any exploitation of labour that corporate companies are guilty of. Rather, it is almost a means of deflecting criticism around the nature of agricultural labour and projecting it onto an external threat i.e., corporate companies.
Stalin Rajangam says that it was common perception in the 90s that agriculture was in danger after globalisation and popular cinema reflected this. He says, “There are not enough labourers for agriculture now. The feudal set up that sustained agriculture began falling apart as more people got educated and moved to cities for work. While agriculture was in a crisis after globalisation, movies do not look at the oppressive culture built around this profession. Agriculture had bonded labourers who were not paid and were not treated as equals to landowners. These movies look at agriculture in isolation and oversimplify the problems it faces.”
The Atharva-starrer Boomerang (2019), for instance, subtly encourages youngsters to come back to their villages and take up farming instead of slogging away at IT jobs. The premise does not examine why these youngsters left the village in the first place or whether they will be able to practise agriculture if they do go back. “When these movies present the dangers facing agriculture because of growing corporatisation and the exit of agricultural labourers without any nuance, the profession is romanticised. Corporate companies are notorious for exploiting workers as well, but that is not why these movies villanise them. They are seen as the ‘villains’ because they are ‘stealing’ the labour, often from marginalised backgrounds, that could have been directed towards agriculture,” Stalin says.
Movies on agriculture in Tamil cinema have had little to no space for women, especially women farmers. Whether it is Vivasayi or Bhoomi, women are relegated to the margins despite reports stating that women outnumber men as agricultural workers and farmers. Senior journalist and founder of People’s Archive of Rural India (PARI) P Sainath states that women farmers’ suicides are not treated as farmer suicides, as women are not considered to be farmers in the first place. This sentiment is reflected in Kaththi, where all the farmers who die by suicide on camera are men while the women are painted as helpless widows and daughters of dead farmers.
In the earlier movies on agriculture, women were either dutiful wives of a wealthy landlord, who stood by their husband through all the trials and tribulations, or agricultural workers who toiled alongside their husbands or sons. The female lead did not fare any better. She was often city-educated and had to be ‘tamed’ by the hero, making her more suited for village life. This was particularly evident in the movies that came out in the 90s where the female protagonist was often used as a foil to pedestalise the male protagonist and/or the pleasures of village life.
Senior journalist Kavitha Muralidharan says that the absence of women in agriculture films is an extension of the social perception around agriculture. She says, “Women are often involved in dairy and poultry, which often do not find as much screen time as more ‘traditional’ aspects like sowing and harvesting. Despite women playing a major role in farming, they are largely invisible because of the patriarchal nature of agriculture. And Tamil cinema simply reflects this mainstream perception.”
Tamil movies have been closely intertwined with significant political events in the country. However, a majority of them continue to present male, dominant caste perspectives that romanticise agriculture and the ‘idyllic’ village life. With the industry making space for anti-caste filmmakers like Pa Ranjith and Mari Selvaraj, there is perhaps room for movies that delve deeper into the exploitative practices in agriculture without rose-tinted glasses.