In Search of Redemption: Approaching Dalit Masculinities in Article 15 (2019) and Jai Bhim (2021)

The predominance of the feminist concern and a patriarchal metanarrative within the gender metaphysics of India[1] has long subsumed the issues of masculinity. The existing study around the representation of masculinity in Indian cinema primarily remains limited to its hegemonic and sparsely appearing non-hegemonic representations. The critical contention falls short of surpassing the analysis of historiography, Brahminical gaze,[2] and generic (or slowly evolving) representation of the Dalit communities, even in cases of films where the caste question becomes predominant, like Aarakshan (Reservation) (2011),[3] Manjhi (2015),[4] Guddu Rangeela (2015),[5] Sairat (Wild) (2016),[6] Mukkabaaz (The brawler) (2017),[7] Kaala (Black) (2018),[8] Asuran (Demon) (2019)[9] and more. To approach Dalit masculinity, one must comprehend the location of a Dalit man within the spectrum of caste-conscious, socio-cultural and socio-economic systems. The Dalit man claims a traditional and hierarchically superior position within the domestic space, reflecting the essence of hegemonic masculinity, but they are identified as inferior to upper caste men. This inherent complexity of Dalit masculinity as a simultaneous subversion of, and compliance with, hegemonic masculinity fosters the scope of this investigation. The article aims to provide a thorough analysis of the depiction of Dalit masculinities (both as a reflection and subversion of hegemonic masculinity)[10] within the grand narrative of Indian masculinity and the emergence of several strands of non-hegemonic masculinities in the films Article 15[11] and Jai Bhim.[12] The primary texts selected for this article belong to two different canons of the Indian film industry.[13] While Article 15 directed by Anubhav Sinha, emerges from the œuvre of Hindi Cinema, Jai Bhim directed by T.J. Gnanavel comes from the ambit of Tamil Cinema. A consideration of the current trend of popular films being dubbed into multiple Indian languages foreshadows a tendency to bring in a wide array of audiences for these cinematic texts. Besides Tamil, Jai Bhim was dubbed in four other Indian languages, that is Hindi, Telugu, Malayalam and Kannada. Similarly, Article 15 was remade into a Tamil film Nenjuku Needhi (Justice for the heart) (2022),[14] a couple of years after its release.

Sinha's work opens with a sequence of three girls being sexually violated in a moving bus, with two of them being killed. This is followed by the arrival of Ayan Ranjan (played by Ayushmann Khurrana), an Indian Police Service (IPS) officer who was assigned to the village Laalgaon. A police case is reluctantly launched by the local authority for the missing girls. The rest of the film is a search for the third girl, a struggle against the tampered investigation, and an attempt at decoding the identity of the killers. A parallel plot runs through the film concerning the conflict between a young Dalit leader, Nishad (played by Mohammed Zeeshan Ayyub), who is simultaneously fighting against the hypocrisy of the Dalit leadership and the upper caste repressions. The film ends on a bitter-sweet note with the death of Nishad and the last missing girl being found alive.

Jai Bhim builds up the narrative of oppression and paints an arc of the context through the first thirty minutes of the film. The cinematic narrative goes back and forth in building up the situation. When Rajakannu (played by K. Manikandan), the Dalit male lead of the film, goes missing from police custody after being wrongfully arrested and tortured for a crime he did not commit with a few of his family members, lawyer Chandru (played by Suriya) gets introduced. Rajakannu's wife Sengeni (played by Lijomol Jose), and her fight for justice with the help of Chandru build the crux of the film. The courtroom drama ends with justice being exacted and the criminals behind bars.

The selected filmic texts address a pan-Indian consciousness through their representation of marginalised communities and the potential of the legal structure in exacting justice. The broader structures in both these films share a few commonalities that governed the initial sampling. The selected films belong to the niche of 'law films,' identified and developed by Orit Kamir. According to Kamir, law films function on two premises. First, both the discourses of law and film must simultaneously be addressed in the work and second, there must exist a large-scale legal indoctrination.[15] The premise of a petition of habeas corpus and further legal arguments around it provides the scope of indoctrination in Jai Bhim, whereas Article 15 uses the eponymous constitutional law that prohibits 'discrimination on grounds of religion, race, caste, sex or place of birth.'[16] Though Kamir leaves provision for fictional cinematic judgements and imaginary legal systems, Jai Bhim traces its inspiration to a real-life incident from 1993 in Muthanai village in Cuddalore district, Tamil Nadu India.[17] Sinha too offers a disclaimer that the film was conceived out of several real-life incidents. Therefore, a refraction of the empirical database might be expected in both media texts. In the works of Sinha and Gnanavel, we come across acts of violence (carried forward by the state, the misuse of the legal apparatus and corrupt officials) against individuals of marginalised communities, missing Dalit bodies, the intervention of a righteous government agent, the tactical use of law and the eventual justice. These structural similarities, coupled with a subtle didactic motif, while offering the complicated subjectivities of Dalit lives and variegated lived experiences, lay the foundation to approach the nuances of Dalit masculinities.

The term 'Dalit' is too malleable to conform to one definition. But the generic understanding of the identity stems from the chaturvarnya system.[18] The Dalits were considered to exist beyond this caste design. Within the legal context of India, these individuals are identified as Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes. In 2018, The Information and Broadcasting Ministry, working in tandem with the Bombay High Court[19] criticised and negated the use of the term 'Dalit' within socio-legal and socio-cultural discourse (specifically by the media organisations) of India. This directive was met with two different strands of criticism. On the one hand, the absorption of Dalit subjectivity into the metanarrative fold of the Scheduled Tribes of India was received as a rejection of identities.[20] The other argument was in favour of the judgement as it liberated the Dalit identity from the religion-specific subjectivities of harijan.[21]

In the film Article 15, during a conversation between Ayan Ranjan and Nishad, who is organising a rally to protest the alliance between Mahantji (played by Naval Shukla), an upper caste political leader and Shanti Prasad (played by Iccha Shankar), the Laalgaon Dalit leader, this troubled Dalit subjectivity gets deftly narrated. As their argument heats up, Ayan's assistant Mayank (played by Ashish Verma) asks Nishad if nothing has changed since the independence of the country (for more than seventy years). To which Nishad replies, 'A lot has happened … but sometimes we become harijan (untouchables). sometimes bahujan (scheduled tribes). We just cannot make our way through to the count of the common citizens so that we too can be a part of the nation and its anthem equally.'[22] The practice of this differentiation often ends in the victimisation of the Dalits instead of empowering them. The opening sequence of Jai Bhim (2021) takes a dig at this caste-based discrimination. Set in 1995, the film begins with the identification of Dalit convicts by their surnames. While convicts with the surnames Devar, Vaani, Gaundar, Naidu and Mudaliyar (upper caste surnames) were released, the bearers of Puruvar, Merlor, Ottar, Karovar and Irula (lower caste surnames) got re-arrested. Gnanavel uses the narrative technique of a third-person limited point of view to voice the pathos of these marginalised lives through one of the by-standing policemen who enquired from another official about the crimes of these separated convicts. He replied, 'For them, their birth is the crime.'[23] The intentions of the directors in their presentation of the Dalit lives become conspicuous through these instances. Both the films, at their onsets, set a paradigm of caste consciousness.

For the rest of this article the term Dalit will be used as a reference to individuals oppressed within the grand narrative of the nation as the other; individuals who are destined to struggle throughout their lives and never considered equal despite their efforts to rise above the occupational standards set by society and individuals who are institutionally convinced of their inferiority.

The article employs the methodological tools of multidimensionality, context and mise en scène analysis to read into the complex threads of Dalit masculinity as a simultaneous subversion of and compliance with hegemonic masculinity. The coupling of multidimensionality and masculinity theory within the legal discourse was introduced by Athena D. Mutua in her article 'Multidimensionality is to Masculinities What Intersectionality is to Feminism.'[24] Though multidimensionality has a long history, this association offers a tangible model for analysing the experiences of marginalised men in society. Mutua celebrates the multidimensional turn in intersectionality theory as it better explains the synergistic interaction between categories like gender and race, as well as the part that context plays in that interaction. Multidimensionality situates masculine identities and practices within the framework of socially constructed hierarchies. Besides class, the context of India foreshadows the category of caste in identifying masculine subjectivities. The reference frame of identification for Dalit men integrates three primary threads (or dimensions), i.e., gender, caste and class. Hence, multidimensionality is a helpful tool for illuminating the gendered, racial and caste-based profiling of Dalit masculinities.

Mutua’s article can be read as an expansion of Darren Hutchinson's notions concerning multidimensionality. The criticism around intersectional models, where the experiences of different intersections were often considered overlapping (as seen in cases of black women), created the need for a parallel framework. The most thorough study of the effects of these criticisms was provided by Hutchinson, who pushed for the switch from intersectionality to multidimensionality theory. He preferred multidimensionality because it could better express the intrinsic complexity and permanently layered nature of oppression and everyone's identities. Mutua writes that multidimensionality reconfigures the fundamental focus of intersectionality as introduced by Kimberlé Crenshaw as a tool for defining multi-layered subordination (specifically for women).[25] In cases of men of colour or non-binary gender identity, the intersections can simultaneously be one of privilege and subordination.

This model can be appropriated in the context of caste dynamics for men in India. In Article 15, during the early hours of a hit-and-run investigation, Ayan walks up to the police officers inquiring about the temple conflict. They tell him that the Dalits cannot enter the temple and the ones who walked in were beaten up by Mahantji's ashram hooligans. On further probing, it surfaced that Mahantji is a Kaanyakubj Brahmin. The conversation becomes intriguing as Ayan attempts to decode the caste dynamics at work.

Ayan: Aren't you a Dalit, Jatav Ji?
Jatav (played by Kumud Mishra): Yes Sir.
Ayan: Same caste as that of the boys who got beaten up?
Jatav: No Sir. I am a Chamar, they were Pasi. We are way above them in the SC/ST list. We have nothing to do with them. We don't even eat the food they touch.

Ayan: As I cannot eat the food you touch?
Jatav: Yes Sir.
…
Ayan: Who am I then?
Mayank: You are a Brahmin Sir.
Ayan: So, I belong to the same caste as Mahantji?
Mayank: No Sir, he is Kaanyakubj, you're Saryuparin. He is the top Brahmin.
Ayan: What the fuck is going on here?[26]

What appears more disturbing than the complicated hierarchy of the convoluted glimpse of caste dynamics in the quoted extract is the ease with which the characters negotiate their identity. Without realising the men from the margin oscillate between a position of power and oppression as is observed in the case of Jatav, who feels empowered as a police officer but is conscious of his caste subordination. The use of legal narratives in comprehending the Dalit men in both films furthers the rationale behind employing the framework of multidimensional masculinity.

Besides multidimensionality, the article employs the methodological tools of contextual analysis[27] to aid the understanding of the culture, time and place that inspired the making of the film and mise-en-scène[28] analysis to approach the representation of on-screen Dalit masculinity in the selected films. Both in the cases of Article 15 and Jai Bhim, the following section will invest in the comprehension of Dalit subjectivity (as a male) within the broader context of society, the reflection of the timeline and their proximity to real-life lived experiences. The cinematic representation of the Dalit bodies, their dwellings, gestures and postures will add to the analysis. The analysis of dialogues as a wider exploitation of discourse analysis[29] will prevail over the entire scope of the article. Anchoring the discussed methodological models of multidimensionality and film analysis (camera angles, props, light, space, décor and appearance of characters), this article intends to approach two questions. How do Dalit masculinities function as simultaneous depictions of hegemonic and non-hegemonic masculinity? And what are the possible reflections of an alternative masculinity narrative?

Jai Bhim offers two strands of Dalit men, the community of the pest catchers and the communist Dalit leader. The individuals in these groups appear in contrast. The opening credit scene in the film shows Rajakannu (see Figure 1), his family and other members of the community in an expedition of pest (rats) control. They appear essentially different from the upper caste people in their complexion, choice of fabrics, use of language and so on. Their physical appearance manifests despair and insecurity, specifically when they are put against upper caste individuals. This introduction sequence can be studied in contrast to the introduction of Chandru[64] which is more cinematic in its glory and empowerment.

The visual representation of the Dalit communist leader, who politicised the event of police brutality and missing convicts in an attempt to find Rajakannu at his wife Sengeni's request manifests more structural strength than that of the first group of Dalit men. Despite feeling threatened the Dalit leader anchored on his organisational strength and walked up to the regional head of the police. He resisted by saying, 'All the missing men are tribals. If you don't take any action, you have to answer the DGPO, Home Secretary, SC/ST Commission.'[65] The marginalised location of the Dalit communist leader was trumped by the structural resistance he could ignite. There is a stark contrast in the appearance between these two sets of Dalit men. While Rajakannu’s dress is worn out and his appearance is dishevelled, the Dalit leader is presented in a bright white dress with a pristine mien. The white dress, in the context of India symbolically represents direct political engagement. Therefore, the appearance not only introduces a divide between the Dalit men and the non-Dalit men but also fosters a structural difference within the Dalit community as well.

The introduction of the Dalit characters in Article 15 is varied. The opening sequence depicts the fathers of the victims singing in a group (see Figure 2), and the lyrics reflect the imbalance of lifestyle owing to caste and class differences. The men cannot be differentiated from the crowd. There is a stark contrast in the selection of the introductory background music. While Ayan's journey is marked by the song 'Blowin' in the Wind'[66] and a copy of The Discovery of India, suggesting a journey in his search for the soul, the song of the Dalit stands close to their basic survival needs.[67] The dingy shade with the rainy background appears in stark contrast with the flamboyant government car of Ayan. This consciously introduced difference in depiction creates a dichotomy between hegemonic masculinity the peripheral masculinities.

Through conceiving these real-life-inspired narratives, the makers bring into question the subaltern crisis and make their voices audible. These films' critical and commercial success conveys a positive change in their reception. The directors consciously abstain from being didactic and focus on telling gripping tales. But both these works ended up creating an atmosphere of consciousness-raising concerning the position of Dalit communities and their plight. This article's focus has been exploring variegated aspects of Dalit masculinities by employing the model of multidimensionality. The multidimensional masculinity model depicts how, within the schematics of Dalit masculinities that can assert or subvert aspects of hegemonic masculinity, one can identify the emerging threads of non-hegemonic masculinities that function as the cornerstones of an egalitarian society that we envision. A focus on the context and overlapping subjectivities become significant instead of assigning a generalised perception of male-sex-roles and masculine idiosyncrasies.

The history of masculinity in India has neither been lateral nor monistic. Unfortunately, within the ambit of popular media productions, the formation of hegemonic masculine images of mythical proportions has guided the material needs of the industry. The creation of hegemonic male characters that stand akin to the men the audience envisages accelerated the popularity of these productions. The surfacing of multiplex theatres in India indexed 'a larger transformation of a booming globalised economy and its domestic social changes.'[88] That said, the introduction of the over-the-top (OTT) platforms in 2008 started offering the makers avenues to delve deeply into the subtle socio-cultural and socio-economic issues[89] that have previously been limited to either the niche of parallel arthouse films or remained in conscious oblivion. The accessibility, and the ever-widening œuvre, have promoted the exploration of non-hegemonic contents within 'popular' space. The popularity of new non-hegemonic masculinities with the advent of modernity is a sign of advancement and inclusivity.[90] The film industry, the audience and the nation, in general, embark on a utopian journey where equality, autonomy, democracy and newly conceived spaces of sex prevail.[91]

Against the reference frame of hegemonic, casteist, aggressive, toxic masculinity (as depicted through characters like A.G. Ram Mokan (played by Rao Ramesh), D.G.P. Radhakrishnan (played by V. Jayaprakash), S.I. Gurumoorthy, Veerasamy, Bhramadatt Singh, CBI Officer Panikar (played by Nassar), Anshu Naharia and more) the non-hegemonic masculinities of characters like Ayan, Chandru, Perumalswami and the Dalits create resistance. They redefine the epithets associated with masculinity, like machismo and caballerismo. Their masculine virtues can be carried out by anyone beyond their gender identity as Sengeni and Gaura fight for justice, keeping their hopes alive and performing the acts of protectors. These non-hegemonic narratives of masculinities offer a component of solidarity, a brotherhood that stands tall in the face of repression and manifests the dream of a nation that finds unity in diversity.

[1] Riya Mukherjee and Smita Jha, 'Reconstructing Dalit Masculinities: A Study of Select Dalit Autobiographies,' Sociological Bulletin 71(3) (2022): 454–70, specifically p. 454. doi: 10.1177/00380229221094790.

[2] The word ‘Brahminical’ is an epithet coming from the noun 'Brahmin.' Brahmins are considered the pinnacle of caste identity within the varna system of India.

[3] Aarakshan, 164 mins, 2011, produced by A.A. Nadiadwala and Firoz Nadiadwala, directed by Prakash Jha, Prime Video, accessed 11 December 2022.

[4] Manjhi: The Mountain Man, 114 mins, 2015, produced by Bilal Khan and Deepa Sahi, directed by Ketan Mehta, JioCinema, accessed 9 December 2022.

[5] Guddu Rangeela, 124 mins, 2015, produced by Sangeeta Ahir, directed by Subhash Kapoor, Hotstar, accessed 12 December 2022.

[6] Sairat, 174 mins, 2016, produced by Nitin Keni and Nikhil Sane, directed by Nagraj Manjule, ZEE5, accessed 11 December 2022.

[7] Mukkabaaz, 155 mins, 2017, produced by Aanand L. Rai, Vikramaditya Motwane, Madhu Mantena and Anurag Kashyap; directed by Anurag Kashyap, JioCinema, accessed 13 December 2022.

[8] Kaala, 159 mins, 2018, produced by Dhanush, directed by Pa. Ranjith, Hotstar, accessed 12 December 2022.

[9] Asuran, 140 mins, 2019, produced by Kalaippuli S. Thanu, directed by Vetrimaaran, Prime Video, accessed 13 December 2022.

[10] The concept of hegemonic masculinity is borrowed from the model offered by R.W. Connell. He arrived at that definition after investigating the notions for more than a couple of decades (1983–2005). The framework functions on two rudimentary principles, i.e., the repression of women and a consciousness of an intermale hierarchy. The explanation is derived from: R.W. Connell and James W. Messerschmidt, 'Hegemonic Masculinity: Rethinking the Concept,' Gender and Society 19(6) (2005): 829–59, specifically pp. 832–33, doi: 10.1177/0891243205278639.

[11] Article 15, 130 mins, 2019, produced and directed by Anubhav Sinha, NETFLIX, accessed 10 December 2022.

[12] Jai Bhim, 164 mins, 2021, produced by Jyothika and Suriya, directed by T.J. Gnanavel, Prime Video, accessed 10 December 2022.

[13] Started in 1912 with the release of the first silent film Shree Pundalik, Indian Cinema stands as anœuvre defining term for films produced within the geo-political territory of the country. The industry is further divided into language-specific terrains and productions e.g., Bollywood (Hindi), Mollywood (Malayalam) and so on.

[14] Nenjuku Needhi, 132 mins, 2022, produced by Boney Kapoor, directed by Arunraja Kamaraj, Sony Liv, accessed 12 December 2022.

[15] Orit Kamir, Framed: Women in Law and Film, Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2006, pp. 2–3.

[16] 'Article 15 in The Constitution of India 1949,' Kanoon, n.d., accessed 12 December 2022.

[17] Deivendra Kumar A, 'Jai Bhim: A narrative of downtrodden and the voice of the voiceless,' The Armchair Journal, 8 November 2021, accessed 11 December 2022.

[18] The chaturvarnya system divides people (following the Hindu religion) in accordance with their caste identities (primarily based on occupations) into Brahmins (priests, theological scholars), Kshatriyas (warriors, rulers), Vaishyas (business people, farmers, merchants) and Shudras (servants, labourers, workers).

[19] Nistula Hebbar, 'Mixed response to I&B; Ministry's fiat on "Dalit",' The Hindu, 4 September 2018, accessed 12 December 2022.

[20] Hebbar, 'Mixed response,' paragraph 4.

[21] The term harijan was used by Mahatma Gandhi in 1932 to employ an umbrella identity for the individuals belonging beyond the caste narrative of India. In 1938 the use of the term was criticised by Babasaheb Bhimrao Ambedkar. Eventually, in 2017 the Supreme Court of India declared the term condescending and derisive as it reverberates a religion-specific identity and is used by the upper caste people. The history of the term harijan is brewed from: Ramanathan S., 'Stop calling Dalits "Harijan": SC calls the term abusive, as we remain ignorant and insensitive,' The News Minute, 27 March 2017, accessed 12 December 2022.

[22] Article 15, 01:16:10–01:16:18.

[23] Jai Bhim, 02:30–02:37.

[24] Athena D. Mutua, 'Multidimensionality is to Masculinities What Intersectionality is to Feminism,' Nevada Law Journal 13(2) (2013): 341–67.

[25] Mutua, 'Multidimensionality is to Masculinities,' p. 355.

[26] Article 15, 51:08–51:45.

[27] Elisa Pezzotta. 'Film Analysis: A Comparison Among Criticism, Interpretation, Analysis and Close Analysis,' Wide Screen 1(2) (2010): 1–23, specifically p. 5.

[28] Pezzotta, 'Film Analysis,' p. 2.

[29] Gabriele Griffin, 'Discourse Analysis,' in Research Methods for English Studies, edited by Gabriele Griffin, 93–112, Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2005, specifically p. 93.

[30] Joshil K. Abraham and Judith Misrahi-Barak, 'Contents,' in, The Routledge Companion to Caste and Cinema in India, ed. Joshil K. Abraham and Judith Misrahi-Barak, v–viii, New York: Routledge, 2022.

[31] B. Geetha, 'Ellā Manusanum inga onnu illa: Imag(in)ing the Claustrophobia of Caste in Pariyerum Perumal,' in The Routledge Companion to Caste and Cinema in India, ed. Joshil K. Abraham and Judith Misrahi-Barak, 387–401, New York, NY: Routledge, 2022.

[32] Ajay Gehlawat, '"Aadat Se Majboor"/"Helpless by Habit": Metrosexual masculinity in contemporary Bollywood,' Studies in South Asian Film & Media 4(1) (2012): 61–79, doi: 10.1386/safm.4.1.61_1.

[33] R.W. Connell, Gender and Power: Society, the Person, and Sexual Politics, Oxford: Polity Press, 1987, pp. 183–88.

[34] R.W. Connell, Masculinities, Oxford: Polity Press, 1995, p. 85.

[35] James W. Messerschmidt, Hegemonic Masculinity: Formulation, Reformulation, and Amplification, London: Rowman & Littlefield, 2018, p. 27.

[36] C. Lakshmanan, 'Dalit Masculinities in Social Science Research: Revisiting a Tamil Village,' Economic and Political Weekly 39(10) (2004): 1088–92, specifically p. 1088.

[37] Meghna Mehra, 'The Many Masculinities in Bollywood: 1960s to the Present,' Feminism in India, 16 October 2019, accessed 17 December 2022.

[38] Mihir Bose, Bollywood: A History, New Delhi: Roli Books, 2006, p. 256.

[39] Deewaar, 176 mins, 1975, produced by Gulshan Rai, directed by Yash Chopra, ZEE5, accessed 13 December 2022.

[40] Sholay, 204 mins, 1975, produced by G.P. Sippy, directed by Ramesh Sippy, Prime Video, accessed 10 December 2022.

[41] Dil Chahta Hai, 177 mins, 2001, produced by Ritesh Sidhwani, directed by Farhan Akhtar, NETFLIX, accessed 13 December 2022.

[42] Ladies vs Ricky Bahl, 140 mins, 2011, produced by Aditya Chopra, directed by Maneesh Sharma, Prime Video, accessed 13 December 2022.

[43] Vaastav: The Reality, 144 mins, 1999, produced by Deepak Nikalje, directed by Mahesh Manjrekar, Prime Video, accessed 14 December 2022.

[44] Dhoom 2, 152 mins, 2006, produced by Aditya Chopra, directed by Sanjay Gadhvi, Prime Video, accessed 11 December 2022.

[45] Mission Mangal, 127 mins, 2019, produced by Cape of Good Films, Hope Productions, Fox Star Studios, Aruna Bhatia and Anil Naidu; directed by Jagan Shakti, Hotstar, accessed 12 December 2022.

[46] Chak De! India, 149 mins, 2007, produced by Aditya Chopra, directed by Shimit Amin, Prime Video, accessed 12 December 2022.

[47] Tanu Weds Manu, 119 mins, 2011, produced by Vinod Bachchan and Shailesh R Singh, directed by Aanand L. Rai, JioCinema, accessed 13 December 2022.

[48] Jayeshbhai Jordaar, 124 mins, 2022, produced by Aditya Chopra and Maneesh Sharma, directed by Divyang Thakkar, Prime Video, accessed 14 December 2022.

[49] Gehlawat, 'Aadat Se Majboor,' p. 64.

[50] Jullien Cayla, 'Following the Endorser's Shadow: Shah Rukh Khan and the Creation of the Cosmopolitan Indian Male,' Advertising & Society Review 9(2) (2008), doi: 10.1353/asr.0.0000.

[51] Editorial, 'Top 5 Film Industry in India 2022,' Business Outreach, 11 May 2022, accessed 9 December 2022.

[52] Praseeda Gopinath, '"A feeling you cannot resist": Shah Rukh Khan, affect, and the re-scripting of male stardom in Hindi cinema,' Celebrity Studies 9(3) (2017): 307–25, specifically p. 17, doi: 10.1080/19392397.2017.1411202.

[53] Gehlawat, 'Aadat Se Majboor,' pp. 76–77.

[54] Chhachhi, Amrita, ‘Neoliberalism, Hindutva and Gender: Convergence and Contradictions in the Provision of Welfare,' Feminist Dissent (5) (2020): 50–93, specifically p. 52.

[55] G. Selvin Kasperov, 'An Analysis on the Portrayal of Male Protagonist in Tamil Films,' International Journal of Humanities and Social Sciences 8(5) (2019): 1–6.

[56] Thinnai Talkies is an organisation that works on the extension of dialogues beyond films.

[57] Siddarth Muralidharan, 'On the various shades of masculinity in cinema portrayals,' Frontiline, 7 November 2022, accessed 17 December 2022.

[58] Connell, Gender and Power: Society, the Person, and Sexual Politics, pp. 184–85.

[59] Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, 189 mins, 1995, produced by Yash Chopra, directed by Aditya Chopra, Prime Video, accessed 14 December 2022.

[60] Jeans, 172 mins, 1998, produced by Ashok Amritraj and Sunanda Murali Manohar, directed by S. Shankar, NETFLIX, accessed 12 December 2022.

[61] '96, 158 mins, 2018, produced by S. Nanthagopal, directed by C. Premkumar, Prime Video, accessed 12 December 2022.

[62] Vishal Chauhan, 'From Sujata to Kachra: Decoding Dalit representation in popular Hindi cinema,' South Asian Popular Culture 17(3) (2019): 1–10, specifically p. 2, doi: 10.1080/14746689.2019.1673544.

[63] David Bordwell and Kristen Thompson, Film Art: An Introduction, New York, NY: McGraw-Hill, 2003.

[64] The caste identity of justice Chandru is a point of conflict as there is no direct or oblique suggestion in the film. His urban residence, education and representation of financial affluence suggest an emancipated status. This paper intends to focus on his sense of emancipation and empowerment, which renders him non-vulnerable. He is spiritually liberated from the emotional castigation of the upper caste individuals.

[65] Jai Bhim, 54:48–54:58.

[66] The song was written by Bob Dylan in 1962.

[67] Jawaharlal Nehru, The Discovery of India, New Delhi: Penguin India, 2008.

[68] Charu Gupta, The Gender of Caste, Ranikhet: Permanent Black, 2016, pp. 114–25.

[69] Mahamadul Hassan Dhabak, 'Vulnerable Manhood and Subordinate Dalit Masculinity: A Critical Study of Select Dalit Autobiographical Narratives,' All About Ambedkar: A Journal on Theory and Praxis 2(2) (2021): 113–27, specifically p. 114.

[70] Judith Butler, Bodies That Matter: On the Discursive Limits of Sex, London: Routledge, 2011, p. xiii.

[71] Dhabak, 'Vulnerable Manhood and Subordinate Dalit Masculinity,' p. 115.

[72] Marginalised masculinity encompasses men who belong to the periphery of the social, economic and cultural space. Within their communities, their masculinities might appear hegemonic, but the acknowledgement of the rest of the dimensions changes the power dynamics. The definition is borrowed from: Mimi Schippers, 'Recovering the feminine other: Masculinity, femininity, and gender hegemony,' Theory and Society 36(1) (2007): 85–102, specifically p. 88.

[73] Dwi Wahyu Handayani, 'The Meaning of Masculine Subjectivity in Responding to the Impact of Climate Change,' Proceedings of the 2nd International Indonesia Conference on Interdisciplinary Studies 2021: 87–92, specifically p. 88.

[74] Ann C. McGinley and Frank Rudy Cooper, Masculinities and the Law: A Multidimensional Approach, New York: New York University Press, 2012, p. 4.

[75] Gupta, The Gender of Caste, p. 112.

[76] Jai Bhim, 46:45-47:57.

[77] Anupama Rao, 'Violence and Humanity: Or, Vulnerability as Political Subjectivity,' Social Research 78(2) (2011): 607–32, specifically p. 623.

[78] Athira Krishnan, 'Representation of Dalit Masculinity in Literature,' International Journal of Science and Research 10(5) (2019): 426–29, specifically p. 428, doi: 10.21275/SR21510193049.

[79] Jai Bhim, 09:40–09:50.

[80] Article 15, 57:05–57:30.

[81] Aditya Nigam, 'Hindutva, Caste and the "National Unconscious",' in Racism After Apartheid: Challenges for Marxism and Anti-Racism, ed. Vishwas Satgar, 118–36, Johannesburg: Wits University Press, 2019.

[82] Article 15, 33:09–33:21.

[83] Connell and Messerschmidt, 'Hegemonic Masculinity,' p. 832.

[84] The word brotherhood is an analogy drawn with reference to the idea of 'sisterhood' within the discourses of feminism.

[85] Parvathy N and Priyanka Tripathi, 'Locating epistemic (dis)privilege of female fans in select Indian narratives,' Feminist Media Studies (2023): 1–14, specifically p. 3, doi: 10.1080/14680777.2022.2161000.

[86] Krishnan, 'Representation of Dalit Masculinity in Literature,' p. 428.

[87] Merry Sylvester and Steven C. Hayes, 'Unpacking Masculinity as a Construct: Ontology, pragmatism, and an analysis of language,' Psychology of Men & Masculinity 11(2) (2010): 91–97.

[88] Priya Joshi, Bollywood's India: A Public Fantasy, New York, NY: Columbia University Press, 2015, p. 123.

[89] P.Y. Shalparni, B. Punyashree and R Ashok Kumar, 'Impact of OTT on Entertainment Industry in India,' International Journal of Engineering Research & Technology 10(11) (2022): 108–11, specifically p. 108.

[90] Óscar Fernández Álvarez, 'Non-Hegemonic Masculinity against Gender Violence,' Procedia: Social and Behavioral Sciences 161 (2014): 48–55, specifically p. 53, doi: 10.1016/j.sbspro.2014.12.009.

[91] Álvarez, 'Non-Hegemonic Masculinity against Gender Violence,' p. 53; Bhagya Shree Nadamala and Priyanka Tripathi, 'Contextualizing caste: review of the book The Routledge Companion to Caste and Cinema in India,' edited by J.K. Abraham and J. Misrahi-Barak,’ Media Asia (2023): 1–6, specifically p. 2, doi: 10.1080/01296612.2023.2200336