SONI: A Candid Depiction of India’s Gender Politics

Amongst the darkly lit backstreets of Delhi, Soni tells the story of two women fighting their own battles for equality, respect and for their voices to be heard. A directorial debut from writer-director Ivan Ayr, the film follows titular Soni, a young woman working undercover to expose sexual harassment and abuse on the streets of Delhi. An early altercation sees her pulled from her work by senior officer Kalpana – a woman who is dealing with demons of her own.

In this carefully constructed film, Kalpana (Saloni Batra) and Soni (Geetika Vidya Ohlyan) collide over their individual priorities, systemic sexism and traumas from their own past.

A Tale of Two Women

With her initial demotion to desk duty, the film details Soni’s difficult and fragmented return to work alongside Kalpana’s struggle with the (male) authority figures within the police force. Soni and Kalpana both experience the full force of sexism and discrimination throughout Soni, but they differ wildly in their ways of dealing with it. Soni’s anger and frustration with the system can be attributed to her personality but also to her age – Soni is indicative of many young Indian women who are standing up to tradition and convention to try and change the conversation. She harbours intense anger and is quick to rise which often results with her being reprimanded.

Kalpana, on the other hand, is dogmatic and logical. She is also subjected to sexism but from her own home. She is consistently asked about her plans to have a child and is chided by her relatives that her biological clock won’t wait for her. The assumption that Kalpana wants a child, or can even have a child, is a sticking point within the film. Unlike Soni, Kalpana keeps her cool and responds amicably, despite giving no indication that this is something she wants.

The two might differ in their attitudes and actions, but Kalpana’s final act is one of solidarity with Soni and is done out of respect for the changes which Soni is attempting to make. They may not agree on methods but Kalpana and Soni are very much both at the forefront of a quiet revolt. More than anything, Soni allows its female protagonists to be human – that is to experience a wide range of human emotion without it being dismissed as feminine. They are clearly accomplished, skillful and driven people with a lot to offer and the film makes this clear.

Documentary Style Authenticity

Central performances from newcomers Ohlyan and Batra are captivating – they work as well together onscreen as they do with the supporting cast. Particularly impressive is Ohlyan, who has a fundamental shift in a poignant scene in the second half the film. Her portrayal of Soni’s raw anger, grief and frustration at a broken system is tangible at all times, despite Soni’s reluctance to actually open up and access her emotions.

In addition to the performances, Soni’s camera work is another reason why the film works so well. In keeping with its gritty and authentic portrayal of life as a female police officer, cinematographer David Bolen has shot the entire film in exclusively long takes – one for each scene. A tactic employed by Alfonso Cuarón in Roma, but also before this in his other works, Bolen’s camera acts like a fly on the wall. Sequences are often shot in the wide, taking in the background and context around hushed conversations. The camera floats through each scene, taking us in and out of the action. Soni almost feels like an observational documentary from this perspective – unobtrusive yet engaging. Though impressive, this stylistic shooting choice is so subtle and understated that one might not even notice it until partway through the film.

With incredible tact and sensitivity, Ayr immerses his audience in a world where sexual assault, harassment and abuse is around every street corner. There is a near constant stream of assault victims in the police station, almost every interaction with strangers results in misogynistic vitriol and perhaps the most painful comments come from those closest to Kalpana and Soni. Though the commentary from strangers is disgusting, the assumption that Kalpana is softer on Soni because they are both women stings just as much.

A Unique and Accomplished Film

Soni, as a gritty realist portrait, feels fresh and unique – both in it’s portrayal of Kalpana and Soni and its technical achievements. Indian cinema does not often offer up difficult and dark narratives, usually preferring stories which conclude with happy endings, so perhaps Soni is an indication of a shit in Indian cinema. With its inclusion in both the 2018 Venice Film Festival and London Film Festival, and now with a global release on Netflix, Soni could take the indie-film world by storm.

What did you make of Soni? Do you think it has the potential to change the direction of India’s independent cinema? Tell us your thoughts in the comments below!

Soni is now streaming worldwide on Netflix.