‘Neela Nira Sooriyan’ film review: Samyuktha Vijayan’s poignant drama is a ray of hope for Tamil queer cinema

A still from “Neela Nira Sooriyan” | Photo Credit: Moviebuff Tamil/YouTube

In mainstream cinema, films that attempt to forge a new path are judged based on whether the experiment does justice to the themes without alienating the masses of that milieu. Queer topics are, unfortunately, still considered niche. And the criterion for a “good” mainstream queer drama is how accurately the queer characters are portrayed; whether it also appeals to the larger audience viewing it from the perspective of cisgender heterosexuals; and if it could dispel the idea that all issue-focused queer films are melodramatic sobfests. In this sense, Samyuktha Vijayan’s directorial debut, Neela Nira Sooriyan (Blue sunshine), is a breath of fresh air.

For those familiar with European queer films, the story of Neela Nira Sooriyan Perhaps it seems a bit too simple at first: a teacher who was born male from a conservative background transforms into a woman. However, within the confines of this story, the writer-director manages to incorporate a whole range of unexplored ideas into the space of Tamil queer cinema, making the film a fascinating film. The very first scene of this film shows Aravind (Samyuktha Vijayan) on a secret journey to Bhanu and takes steps to perfect vocal feminization. In another shot, we see as a fleeting detail how they (Aravind’s preferred pronoun during the transition is not clear) remove the binding from their chest to hide the breast formation, as they still present themselves as male to the outside world. Later, when she dresses as a woman for work for the first time, we learn that she took her time making sure she looked as perfect as she wanted, battling a world of dysphoria. The careful formulation of such ideas deserves recognition.

Neela Nira Sooriyan stands out as one of those rare queer films set in a rural setting (in Pollachi) and populated by compelling characters. The people in this world – no matter how little time they have – leave an impression by how naturally they interact with the protagonist and her situation. They see a mother (Geetha Kailasam) grappling with the reality that her son is her daughter and that she is not allowed to call her with male pronouns. You can see how much it hurts Bhanu when her name is not mentioned and how uninformed the people around her are about her gender identity, but the text doesn’t vilify her unnecessarily either.

The film turns into a socio-drama as we see how people in the private school where Bhanu works as a physics teacher refuse to accept her as a woman. While the contemptuous deputy director (KVN Manimegalai) and his colleagues make life difficult for Bhanu, one loses hope when one sees that even the correspondent allows Bhanu to be herself only because the company is aware of a targeted PR exercise would benefit. One storyline, involving a fellow teacher, even involves how cis-het men fetishize women who have transitioned.

Samyuktha’s attempt to expose the sensitive social environment of our educational institutions offers a discourse on toilet choice for transgenders. Given the reality that even those who empathize with trans people refuse to accept gender queers, it’s helpful that we get a subplot about a non-binary student at the school, Karthik (Masanth Natarajan), who is bullied will because he is himself When he witnesses Bhanu’s bold move, he confides in her. This subplot initially seems quite contrived, especially given the lack of space for a compelling case study of gender plurality in a cis-heteronormative society. Luckily, Samyuktha organically connects Karthik with Bhanu’s world to draw a parallel. It also takes real conviction to portray your trans protagonist as someone who is not well equipped to understand the plight of other queer identities. Given the fragmentation of some LGBTQIA+ sectors, this is a pretty bold move.

Karthik’s case and the reality Bhanu must live in is a heartbreaking example of how the larger system exploits those who refuse to conform to its norms. A scene set in a government institution shows how even the measures taken to “help” queer people ultimately become just orders to be followed or a weapon for other people who fall outside the binary cis-gender spectrum. Is it so difficult to understand that some trans people want to be identified by their fluidity and others want to identify by the gender they are transitioning into?

Well, the grouse in question Neela Nira Sooriyan That is why in this exercise of criticizing the system, one is tipped and there is no room to understand Bhanu as she is. We learn about her only from her relationships with others, not from her relationships with herself; Even when she shares her feelings with a psychologist (Kitty), they remain on the surface. In the same scene, we get a spectacular dialogue about how the world only knows Aravind and vice versa, and that it’s time to give Bhanu some space to experience this world. Such a deeply personal discussion could have been an undercurrent throughout the entire film.

Such nuances are also why you wish the film had a little more breath. One hoped for a moment or dialogue about how she expressed her femininity in front of closed doors before coming out; Did she have a private safe with pictures of her wearing women’s clothing? How difficult was it to hide her makeup? However, Samyuktha’s film had other purposes.

Neela Nira Sooriyan is a step forward in the right direction for Tamil queer cinema. Neat performances, deft writing choices, excellent sound design and subtle treatment make it a compelling film to invest in.

Neela Nira Sooriyan is currently in theaters