Opinion The Bollywood male in 2023: A year-end reflection
It almost seems as if, with such diverse depictions of masculinity, Bollywood is in a roundtable conversation with itself, trying to figure out to what extent buttons can be pushed
There was the disfranchised tribal man Dasru, played by Manoj Bajpayee, in Devashish Makhija’s fantastic Joram, who is on the run with his infant daughter and governed by survival instincts. (Illuistration by CR Sasikumar) 
In a quiet scene of the rather restrained Vidhu Vinod Chopra hit, 12th Fail, the protagonist, Manoj (played by Vikrant Massey), is seated behind a police officer in his car. In a preceding scene, the policeman had shown the wayward Manoj how honesty can help bring about effective change in the world. Their eyes meet in the rear view mirror of the car. The scene plays out like a quintessential Bollywood romantic scene. Manoj is radiating unabashed admiration, the police officer is, at first, embarrassed, and later, in a beautiful way, receptive of that unabashed admiration. After the ride, a rapturous Manoj says he wants to be exactly like the police officer. Rarely have I seen such a naked depiction of a man idolising another man in Hindi cinema before. The scene stood out for me, especially in contrast to Animal. The clippings on my timeline, from the Sandeep Reddy Vanga film, had led me to believe that the only way cis het men can interact with each other is through hand-to-hand, shirtless combat on airport tarmacs at the end of which only one person walks out alive.
2023 has been a strange year for men in Bollywood when it comes to depictions of masculinity. This is the year when Shah Rukh Khan got to live out his teenage dream of being a no-holds-barred action hero and managed to give two of the biggest hits of his career, Pathaan and Jawan, by indulging this fantasy. SRK saved the country from terrorists (Pathaan) and moral depravity (Jawan) by being a hyper-masculine version of his Raj-Rahul screen persona in both these films. This was also the year when Karan Johar chose to depict the different shades of masculinity in Rocky Aur Rani Kii Prem Kahaani.
Ranveer Singh’s Rocky Randhawa seems all testosterone at first and is a direct contrast to Tota Roy Chowdhury’s effeminate Chandan. His arc is complete when he learns to be more like Chandan. There was the disfranchised tribal man Dasru, played by Manoj Bajpayee, in Devashish Makhija’s fantastic Joram, who is on the run with his infant daughter and governed by survival instincts. He is shorn of conventional masculinity, and there is something primal about his being. And then, of course, there was Animal, Vanga’s unabashed ode to Ranbir Kapoor’s body hair.
If we were to go by Twitter threads and Reddit discussions, Ranbir Kapoor, his body, hair and his underwear in Animal, are all a response to the “over feminisation” of men in Bollywood films. What do you mean your wife will leave you if you slap her once (Thappad)? How can we have films that talk about female orgasm (Veere Di Wedding and Thank You For Coming), when if a man is shown masturbating, it is considered offensive? The cacophony of whataboutery and false equivalences makes you almost believe that the (male) Indian audience is looking back wistfully at the “good old era” when men could be men and air their views (and undies) without worrying about being cancelled or called out. Vanga plays to that script quite faithfully in Animal, almost baiting us to call him out.
But then it would be unfair to say that Kapoor’s “animal”, or SRK’s “jawan” were the only kind of men that Bollywood celebrated this year. In Avinash Arun’s Three Of Us, the men — Swanand Kirkire and Jaideep Ahlawat — seem to have walked out of a feminist’s guidebook to finding the perfect partner. They are supportive, gentle and emotionally available. They dress to blend into the background, and they come to the foreground of the beautifully-shot Konkan landscape, only when they smile, laugh, blush, or display other “feminine” emotions. Even in the more mainstream Satyaprem Ki Katha, Kartik Aaryan, the poster boy of rants against feminism (remember Pyaar Ka Punchnama?), is made to cook, clean and take care of his earning mother and sister, and then find love in a woman who is struggling with trauma.
Unlike films of yore which followed the same template (such as Naukar Biwi Ka), the character played by Aaryan is never made to feel ashamed of not being the conventional bread winner — he is celebrated for being in touch with his emotions. In 12th Fail too, conventional machismo is never embraced, if not outright derided. Massey’s Manoj Sharma is never given applause-bait comebacks, even in the crucial UPSC interview scene. He is made to look and feel almost asexual for most parts of the film. His dogged dedication to his aim is not gilded with a sexy revenge story — it is just a man striving for a better life.
It almost seems as if, with such diverse depictions of masculinity, Bollywood is in a year-end roundtable conversation with itself, trying to figure out to what extent buttons can be pushed. Will it go back to celebrating the “alpha male”, a specimen of which Kapoor kept claiming to be in Animal, or will it choose to tell stories of men of various shades and stripes? I have a feeling this might end up being a deadlock. And we will be all the richer for that.
premankur.biswas@indianexpress.com
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