In Aashiq Abu’s Rifle Club, there is a moment when Bheera (Hanumankind) walks into the club at night and encounters Ittiyanam (Vani Viswanath) having a smoke with Susan (Surabhi Lakshmy). An impatient Bheera, who is there in search of a couple who shot his brother and fled, is unamused to see the women and questions if there aren’t any men in the house. That’s when Ittiyanam steps in and responds with calm assertiveness: “You can consider me as a man.”
Before retreating, Bheera’s brief, nervous smile underscores Ittiyanam’s unflinching demeanour. This superbly staged scene pays tribute to Vani Viswanath’s signature swag and charisma, which continue to set her apart in Malayalam cinema. There are few female actors who can pull off that dynamism with such ease as Vani in Malayalam cinema today. Even in her on-screen comeback after two decades, Vani challenges traditional notions of femininity through her characters. As the first female actor in Malayalam cinema to have a fan club in her name, we explore her fascinating legacy.
The toughie of the 90s
Vani Viswanath debuted in the 1986 Sivaji Ganesan starrer Mannukkul Vairam, followed by her Malayalam debut in Mangalya Charthu (1987). Although these early performances didn’t gain significant attention, they paved the way for a steady stream of projects in Telugu and Tamil. In Telugu, she built a substantial filmography, including several Bollywood remakes, but often found herself relegated to glamour roles within male-dominated narratives. Even her initial notable roles in Malayalam films like Mannar Mathai Speaking and Sipayi Lahala adhered to conventional norms.
It can also be that Vani entered the marquee at a time when female actors—including Urvashi, Shobana, Sumalatha, Revathy, and Parvathy—were largely confined to roles embodying traditional feminine ideals, with little room for experimentation. A majority of the female characters in films such as Vatsalyam, Thalayana Manthram, Mithunam, Meleparambil Aanveedu, Dhruvam, and Devasuram had to conform to patriarchal expectations, often playing second fiddle to male leads, requiring male protection and validation. The 90s were also marked by problematic portrayals of women, including scenes where heroes would slap assertive women, thereby reinforcing toxic machismo.
However, in 1995, her career took a dramatic turn with Shaji Kailas’s The King. For Malayalam cinema of the 90s, Assistant Collector Anura Mukherjee is a stereotype disruptor—a free-spirited, independent young woman from a disjointed family. She refuses to be intimidated by her superior Joseph Alex (Mammootty). When he condescendingly lectures her on India’s poverty, devolving into a misogynistic rant, Anura boldly challenges his sexist attitude. Unfortunately, Anura’s empowerment is depleted to glorify the hero’s valor, thereby reducing her into a pitiful, lovelorn figure.
Having said that, this performance asserted Vani’s ability to convey a sense of agency, confidence, and independence, which was a marked departure from the submissive, passive female characters that populated mainstream narratives.
The King also led to a series of characters where Vani deviated from the typical feminine archetypes. And though they all eventually compromised to assert the hero’s dominion, Vani remained a compelling presence on screen, effortlessly matching wits with male leads like Mammootty. It’s not that Vani Viswanath’s entry revolutionised the industry overnight, but rather, she made significant inroads, gradually challenging traditional notions of femininity.
There was, however, always a catch to it, as narratives were heavily male-dominated back then. This was particularly evident when she donned the khaki in innumerable films, earning her the moniker “Malayalam cinema’s Vijayashanthi.”
Vani as a cop
Vani’s IPS Nambiar in Shaji Kailas’s investigative thriller, The Truth (1998), is arrogant, unscrupulous, and publicity-hungry. Vani tackled the role with a touch of cocky assuredness, showcasing her range and willingness to embrace complex, grey characters. Look out for the superb scene in the lift when she makes her disdain evident about her new replacement to her colleague—unaware that he’s standing right next to her. However, her khaki-clad characters often succumbed to the filmmakers’ testosterone obsession, with the hero ultimately tempering her arrogance. Eventually, she is seen cheerfully helping him with the case. “Vijayashanti’s police outings in Telugu and Tamil inspired me to recreate something like that in Malayalam. In fact I had written the character keeping Vani Viswanath in mind,” admits SN Swamy, scriptwriter of The Truth.
In K Madhu’s Janathipathyam (1997), Vani took on a far more sinister character as City Commissioner Maya Pillai, showcasing her impressive range. Maya is a ruthlessly ambitious and corrupt officer, who brazenly wields her power to dismiss one of the most talented and honest police officers (Suresh Gopy) in her cadre. It’s her ability to hold her own alongside macho heroes, exuding undiminished charisma and assertiveness, that made her a go-to inspiration for scriptwriters while penning such characters.
There were also, of course, instances when she has been caricatured, tagged with all the stereotypical unpleasant attributes given to a fiery cop. This is evident in Sibi Malayil’s Ustaad (1999), and despite Vani’s valiant effort, Commissioner Varsha Varma ends up becoming just another grateful beneficiary of the hero (Mohanlal)’s benevolence.
Unconventional choices and the eventual undoing
In Sibi Malayil’s Kaliveedu (1996), Vani’s casting as Yamini Menon felt like typecasting. She is an architect and a happy single woman who enters a live-in relationship with Mahesh (Jayaram), a man separated from his wife. Yamini is assertive, calling out his misogyny, but ultimately ends up reuniting him with his estranged spouse. However, her independence and brightness are portrayed as irritating, subtly normalising Mahesh’s sexism.
Vani’s foray into parallel cinema was also marked by unconventional choices. The titular role in TV Chandran’s Susanna (2000), despite Vani’s inability to pull off the character’s aging phase, was a bold choice. Often interpreted as a dark spin on Mahabharat’s Draupadi, Susanna, after her husband’s untimely death, ends up being sexually exploited by five men. Like many of Chandran’s protagonists, Susanna battles alienation and emerges as a resilient survivor in a patriarchal society.
In the same director’s Dany (2001), Vani played Margaret, a calculating and emotionally distant woman. Not only does she marry Dany to conceal her pregnancy, but she also treats him shabbily throughout their marriage. Vani used her own voice to portray both characters, adding depth and nuance to their complexities.
Vani’s career trajectory took a downturn when she attempted to leverage her action heroine image, starring in a string of low-quality, distasteful action films. Ironically, the same actor who had once challenged her male counterparts’ agility in action scenes became a victim of her own poor film choices.
It has to be noted that the late 90s and early 2000s were a tumultuous period for Malayalam cinema, marked by a surge in regressive and poorly made films. Unfortunately, Vani’s career became collateral damage during this era, with her talent and screen presence overshadowed by a slew of subpar films.
Hopeful second coming
That’s why Vani’s portrayal of Ittiyanam in Rifle Club offers a glimmer of hope—a testament to the possibility of her talent being rediscovered and harnessed by a new generation of directors and writers. Those who fondly remember the aura she crafted in Malayalam cinema can now harness her potential. On a profound note, Ittiyanam can be seen as a form of redemption for her earlier character, Anura Mukherjee, who was diminished to a “mere woman” by the protagonist Joseph Alex. This film offers a poignant reversal, reinstating Vani’s character as a strong, empowered individual. The timing of Rifle Club’s release seems fortuitous, marking a ripe moment for Vani Viswanath’s resurgence in Malayalam cinema.
Watch the trailer for Rifle Club here:
Neelima Menon has worked in the newspaper industry for more than a decade. She has covered Hindi and Malayalam cinema for The New Indian Express and has worked briefly with Silverscreen.in. She now writes exclusively about Malayalam cinema, contributing to Fullpicture.in and thenewsminute.com. She is known for her detailed and insightful features on misogyny and the lack of representation of women in Malayalam cinema.
Views expressed are the author’s own.