By: DHERRAN TITHERINGTON
Following three women over the span of four years, ‘A Suitable Girl’ is an opaque depiction of the complexities of modern-day arranged marriage, co-directed by Sarita Khurana and Smriti Mundhra.
Each of the unmarried women, Ritu, Dipti and Amrita are educated and financially secure. Yet, the notion that they are in some way incomplete, bubbles underneath the surface of the film.
Dipti is the eldest, and undoubtably the most inclined to marriage: her entire being is consumed by the desire to marry. Brutally shy, she glows in scenes in which the prospect of a husband seems tangible. Her beauty shone in those close shots, where the hope in her eyes illuminated the screen. After one match falls through, Dipti is portrayed in a period of mourning, with no appetite or desire to go outside. Her dedication and her desperation to the pursuit is, at these moments, unsettling to watch. I’d argue her desire to marry is rooted in a sense of wholeness and completion, in the eyes of her parents and of her culture. Dipti very much chose marriage. She appears happy to be married. But I ask, when one digs a bit, how much of her decision was her own?
For Ritu, with her marriage-matchmaker mother, the pressure becomes a bit more personal. One scene shows the family dining with a client, who converses with Ritu about their economics degrees. Ritu chats excitedly, happy to now participate in the conversation. After raising the topic of marriage, Ritu suddenly quietens. When the mother is asked, how the search for her daughter is going, she seems defeated. A very poignant facet to the film is Ritu’s husband’s outlook on the marriage. Rarely is the male perspective in this considered, as he laments that he had to get married, due to family pressures. The mother is told that it is her responsibility and her dream that she is about to fulfil. Arranged marriage seems to me in this example of Ritu, a very cultural pressure, devoid of liberty and personhood.
Luxuriously clad in a traditionally scarlet saree, embroidered with hints and flecks of gold, a ring of roses frames the face of a tearful bride. Amrita’s tears are wiped, as her now husband looks on with a blank face. A close shot shows her feet nervously shifting around. There are many reasons to explain the scene. Distance from parents, from friends, the possibility of leaving work, the new restrictions- the loss of personal selfhood. A few months prior, she was a free student, enjoying brunches and parties with her girlfriends. Amrita chose this. She makes no mistake in stating this fact. Later, her western clothes are hidden high up, she cannot work, and she is now referred to as Keshav’s wife. She fears she has lost her identity. She wants to be known as Amrita; she wants to be called by her name.
The film was the recipient of the Albert Maysles New Documentary Director Award, making Khurana and Mundra the first Desi women to achieve this status. Alongside this, it has been screened at various film festivals across the world: BFI, Mumbai film festival, AFI Docs, Amazon and Netflix. Arguably, one of its most powerful techniques is its lack of narration, further exemplifying the women’s intention for the film, being that of honest, unbiased exploration of arranged marriage in India.