September has seen a resurgence of sorts of the #MeToo movement, especially in Kerala. In picture, Congress workers during a scuffle with police personnel at a protest against actors Mukesh and Siddique, accused of sexual assault, in Kochi. (PTI)
As a tween growing up in the quintessential “gulf” Malayalee household of the ’90s, I straddled two very different cultural milieus. One was the Mollywood Cinematic Universe then, Kerala’s version of the MCU led by Captains Mohanlal and Mammootty. Good, clean, conservative, super-regressive-in-hindsight, family fun. The other, more taboo, borderline illicit, openly explicit cultural escape was hip-hop. Eminem had just been discovered, 50 Cent was still Curtis Jackson, and Will Smith was a TV actor/good boy rapper who wasn’t slapping people publicly. Hip-hop started finding its indigenous flavour on the Malayalee soundscape by the early 2000s, and is now firmly here to stay, something underlined this year by Mallapuram native Hanumankind. Big dawgs, anyone? I wish this article was more about the gloriousness that is the Malayalee rap scene right now, but unfortunately, it is another commonality that has sprung up in the last few weeks that compels this writer’s pen.
September has seen a resurgence of sorts of the #MeToo movement, especially in Kerala. With a barrage of accusations coming out in the wake of the Hema Committee report, ripples would be a vast understatement for the tsunami that is being felt across the Malayalam film industry right now. Police cases have been filed against several prominent actors and directors, young and old, while the actors’ association has quietly disbanded its executive council, raising more questions than answers. Some are confidently trying to clear their name, while others mumble a very unconvincing “baseless allegations” defence. While there has always been talk of untoward behaviour behind closed doors on film sets, to hear first-hand accounts that cast celluloid heroes in real-life villain roles has been heartbreaking, to say the least.
Meanwhile, halfway across the world, Sean “Diddy” Combs aka Puff Daddy aka P Diddy, one of modern hip-hop’s founding fathers and self-made media mogul, was arrested this past week. His crime? Allegedly heading up a criminal enterprise that “engaged or attempted to engage in sex trafficking, forced labour, interstate transportation for purposes of prostitution, drug offences, kidnapping, arson, bribery and obstruction of justice”. Meanwhile, on the surface, there is a billion-dollar industry revolving around him — music, reality TV, real estate, the works. This is the same man who was given the key to New York City last year. (The mayor asked for it back in June this year when the allegations started mounting.)
For years, this man and his associates have been allegedly using their position of power and influence to trap women, forcing, even drugging them into situations they did not want to be in, and resorting to violence when they didn’t acquiesce. It is the same position of power that the lot in Kerala have been accused of exploiting for years, with allegations based on incidents going back a decade or even more. Sexual entitlement is the name of the game. If you want to get ahead, you will have to “adjust”. It’s the way the industry “works”.
The thing is it’s every industry, every profession. The skeletons that have come tumbling out of Malayalam cinema’s closet are not a one-time affliction that is limited to Kerala’s borders or the entertainment sector. When the #MeToo movement first made headlines, one could see this sense of sexual entitlement rampant across every walk of life. What happened to the bulk of the other names that were bandied about then? Crickets. Which is why the holier-than-thou attitude on display currently is starkly hypocritical, especially from members of the media who are rushing to carry out their version of TRP justice.
Will the charges stick for Mollywood’s latest set of potential offenders? Going by what has happened to Malayalam actor Dileep, who was legally implicated in the actress’s assault case that triggered the creation of the Justice Hema Committee — probably not. Just last week, news reports surfaced of how he is actively delaying the legal proceedings. What has been heartening has been the call for similar commissions in other parts of the country, and more and more survivors finding the strength to come out with their stories. Hopefully, this will change the way the industry works for the better. Hopefully. One is allowed to hope, after all.
In Diddy’s case, an arrest has been made. Based on the overwhelming evidence (and there are reportedly reams and reams of it), chances are he will be serving 15 years at least with a possibility of life. If he did what he did, that’s still less. What makes all of this so much worse is that his musical legacy is truly genius. Without Diddy, there is no Notorious BIG, there is no Mary J Blige, there is no Usher. For this writer, it will be easier to disassociate Diddy from the others mentioned above. I was never the biggest fan.
It hurts even more when people you considered an ally suddenly appear to have clay feet. Case in point? The Tortoise podcast, Master: The Allegations against Neil Gaiman, which has been sharing accounts of the award-winning author’s sordid dating life. It will be harder now to dive into the world of The Sandman and Good Omens, as the age-old question pops up again: Should we separate the art from the artist?
Maybe it’s time we realise we are asking the wrong question. Maybe it’s time we start thinking about why we keep putting people on pedestals and allowing them to become someone who needs to be separated from their art. The line between fandom and cult is dangerously thin.
The writer is an editor and stand-up comedian
© The Indian Express Pvt Ltd
First uploaded on: 20-09-2024 at 14:22 IST
