‘The Adamant Girl’: Berlin Review

Dir/scr: PS Vinothraj. India. 2024. 100mins

When a young South Indian woman falls in love with a man from a lower caste despite already being betrothed, she is taken to visit a shaman who will exorcise the spirit of love which is is apparently possessing her. The second feature from PS Vinothraj, The Adamant Girl is a ticking bomb of emotion with a distinct atmosphere of disquiet, restlessness and anxiety.

Simple and unsentimental, but piercing and poignant

Vinothraj’s debut feature Pebbles, which was also about a family hitting the road in South India, won Rotterdam’s Tiger Award in 2021, and was India’s Oscar entry the following year. While that was a small film made with a cast of local people and non-professional actors, The Adamant Girl is produced by Tamil actor Sivakarthikeyan and stars popular South Indian actors Soori Muthuchamy and Anna Ben. Its arthouse sensibility should result in a healthy festival run, but it also has the potential to be a local theatrical success.

Everyone surrounding 21-year-old Meena (Ben) seems furious with her; not least her soon-to-be husband Pandi (Muthuchamy), who is incensed that she has fallen in love with another man who is, like him, from a lower caste. As the two families embark on a day-long journey to a shaman who, they believe, will cure Meena, Pandi’s rage explodes, and he turns on everyone accompanying them on their black magic expedition. Vinothraj shows the furore up close before pulling back to look at the mayhem from a distance, illustrating both the acuteness and expanse of Panda’s bad temper.

More potent, however, is the silent anger of Meena who, we are told, has been confined and beaten for 15 days; her defiance is her only tool against the overriding forces of misogyny, patriarchy, conservatism and superstition, and disparities of caste, class, gender and privilege. Vinothraj is careful to show that, here, patriarchy is also internalised by women – Meena’s mother’s belief that they must obey Pandi’s family, or Pandi’s sister’s assertion that Meena’s education is the root cause of her rebelliousness. She would have been more malleable, they say, had Pandi married her straight after high school.

Vinothraj does inject some biting black comedy into proceedings. When the rooster intended for sacrifice falls ill, for example, efforts to revive it are played for humour. The rooster and the young son of Pandi’s sister are the only two creatures with whom Meena seems to form a bond; both are as innocent and vulnerable as her.

The Adamant Girl also conjures a real sense of community, if relatives face a problem, you must stand by them, whatever it takes. Throwaway conversation about real estate and infrastructure development give a sense of this place. The fine ensemble lends authenticity and rootedness to the depiction of the social fabric but it’s Muthuchamy and Ben who dominate the screen and make perfect counterfoils as they play off against each other.

As with his first feature, Vinothraj has created a distinct world, visual rather than dialogue-heavy. His approach is simple and unsentimental, but piercing and poignant, and he presents The Adamant Girl as a transformative journey into the gaining of perspective. A sense of propulsion is achieved by B Sakhti Vel’s camera, constantly on the heels of the characters as they walk and going static as they stop. It’s an immersive tactic, placing the audience in the middle of the action. Ganesh Siva’s editing—moving between long takes and quick cuts—lends both gravitas and urgency to the narration.