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by anna jane begley
We all know the corrupt cop drama: films like LA Confidential, Cop Land, Training Day, to name a few. But despite their pertinence (the recent case of Child Q comes to mind), there is usually something melodramatic about them; corruption for entertainment’s sake.
Santosh lies firmly outside this trope. Tackling caste prejudice, misogyny, sexism, and Islamophobia, director Sandhya Suri (whose background in documentaries is apparent here) gives us a film that genuinely feels like it’s trying to incite change – so much so, the government body on film certification has blocked its release in India. It’s not difficult to see why.
Set in rural north India, it follows recently widowed Santosh (Shahana Goshwami) who is offered her late husband’s job as a constable through the government’s “compassionate appointment” scheme. She’s soon in the thick of a controversial case: a 15-year-old Dalit girl (the lowest caste) has been raped, murdered and dumped in a well in a nearby village. As local unrest begins to simmer, Geeta – a confident veteran cop played by brilliantly steely Sunita Rajwar – is brought in and enlists calm and capable Santosh as her wingwoman.
The dichotomy between India’s societal moral code and its federal one becomes increasingly transparent as Santosh – initially comfortable accepting bribes and imposing her newly found power – begins to question not only Geeta’s strange, slightly smarmy, relationship with her, but also her own opaque motivations for finding the culprit.
Goshwami gives us a complex performance as the naive yet stalwart protagonist; Santosh sees herself as pious in her quest for justice, but she’s fundamentally flawed and gullible to corrupt influences. One harrowing scene sees her indulge in violent anger against a Muslim boy, her vulnerability following her husband’s death clearly manipulated and taken advantage of by those around her for their own sadistic gain. It’s at this point the film fully switches from a neo-noir to something akin to horror as Santosh slowly realises the significance of her actions.
Unlike the film’s predecessors, Suri doesn’t tie Santosh up with a bow; it’s a deliberately messy, morally ambiguous feat that takes a nuanced perspective on police brutality and female “empowerment”. It’s a tough watch, and whether it eventually premieres in India – let alone dismantle systematic corruption – the ambition to hold up a mirror to those in power reminds us of the importance of independent film, especially in times like these.
Santosh is now playing on BFI Player.
