Karlovy Vary 2024: Santosh (by Sandhya Suri) | Review
Shahana Goswami and Sunita Rajwar shine like bright stars in a grisly police procedural drama soaked in corruption and oppression, leading to a massive stir of events.
Santosh sits in a restaurant, showing one of the waiters a picture of a man she is looking for. As her food arrives and she prepares to take the next step to find this man, she notices a stranger watching her. He stares at her with an unsettling look, which agitates Santosh to an alarming level. She begins having trouble swallowing in peace, feeling trapped by those evil eyes glaring at her. She realizes that she is the sole female patron in the restaurant, wondering, “Can’t a woman have her freedom to even eat?” She starts binge-eating her food while occasionally looking at him. The next second, she vomits it all onto her plate while gazing at him with anger. The guy immediately looks elsewhere, without a sense of guilt.
Perhaps this year at Cannes 2024 was a celebration for India, as a number of exceptional Indian films have been selected, including All We Imagine As Light. Presented at the 58th Karlovy Vary International Film Festival in Czechia, within the Horizons section, Santosh by Sandhya Suri features a recently widowed woman who was offered to replace her husband’s job as a constable through a compassionate appointment by the government, which she agrees to. Santosh (Shahana Goswami), who initially handled minor cases of female oppression, goes straight into the murder case of a 15-year-old girl in the rural areas of Northern India, joining hands with Inspector Sharma (Sunita Rajwar). A game of cat and mouse emerges, leading her into a web of deception and realization.
Suri’s transparent approach provides us with a comprehensive understanding of the misuse of women’s safety in India, particularly in oppressed societies where caste is pinned as the primary culprit. It spreads like a disease, illustrating the abuse of power and the resilience of women in the face of exploitation. Suri, on the other hand, camouflages oppression metaphorically without fully exposing it, allowing us to solve the scattered puzzles ourselves. The point of captivation lies directly with Santosh and Sharma, in a polarized and contrasting view of personality and advocacy. Santosh utilizes her sensory organs, especially her eyes, to convey her inner thoughts, which are engaging and easily comprehensible. Her special ability to communicate deviously in order to gain information appears to be a trapping technique that Santosh has learned from her sour experiences. Sharma’s aristocratic yet caring manner evokes a mixture of doubts and relief, acting as a shifting mechanism that draws us into a world of endless possibilities, both good and bad.
Suri delves deeper into the roots of corruption, reflecting the politics that lie behind an inefficient police procedural system. The overall handling process, from evidence collection to body shifting, is almost gritty. There is no emotional involvement, giving us the impression that women and oppressed individuals are treated badly even on their deathbed. Male chauvinism is paving the way for these two women, one who has mastered the art and the other who has merely stepped into it. Some say hell is on earth, don’t they?
All in all, Santosh is a delicate gameplay that involves understanding each other’s weaknesses and navigating a world dominated by men, where rage manifests in a variety of forms. It questions the basis of justice, focusing on the perspective of comparing women’s rights with humanity. The film sheds light on a procedural blunder driven by misogyny, manipulating the truth to conceal a larger, inevitable agenda. It’s a game with no way out, where betrayal permeates every participant, leading to a state of self-destruction. The phrase “Don’t we women swallow enough humiliation?” in the film restricts women’s freedom, presenting them with the choice to either align with the politics of the system or retreat without any options.
This is possibly a spinoff version of Game of Thrones, with no dragons. Just mere women mortals against true humanity.
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